Well, this was just great, though he couldn’t really blame Gwen for ditching them both.  Elijah wasn’t offended in any way with her hasty exit.  He’d just met Martin and already a dislike for the man had surfaced.  Under the distinct impression that they were classmates, Gwen had no choice but to put up with the insufferable individual on a regular basis.  Elijah, on the other hand, was under no such obligation.<br/><br/>Hmm, Martin knows about<i>The Fallen Angel.  </i>He wondered how he’d gotten hold of that key intel.  For some reason, Elijah doubted that it happened accidentally like it did with him and Mary Beth.  His original plan was to grab a coffee and raspberry scone and take a load off his feet.  But now that he was left alone with a particular Martin Southeby, that plan was shredded to tiny bits.<br/><br/>No need to be rude, but at the same time, no need to be overly friendly either.  It bothered Elijah after Martin commented about Gwen’s gorgeousness.  The compliment wasn’t the issue, because it was the absolute truth, but rather, it was the manner in which he said it.  Lewd and crude immediately sprang to mind.  He felt somewhat dirty, and Martin’s sexual attention wasn’t even directed his way.<br/><br/>They’d just met, and although the person they had in common was no longer there, Martin felt comfortable enough (or horny enough) to ask for advice and what his chances with the red-haired lass might be like.  Elijah had an answer for that, and he withheld a knowing smirk, seeing as how it was time to test the man’s resolve.<br/><br/>“Well, Martin, I’m of the camp that believes you’ll never know unless you try,” he said, which appeared to bump the man’s confidence.  Little did he know that there was a major “but” involved.  “But, you should also know that Gwen has a six-year-old son,” he explained, noticing a facial flinch at his mention of Toby.  “Kind of a handful, too, but then, maybe that’s just me.”  Now that was totally unnecessary, though at the same time, Elijah believed he was doing Gwen a favor.  Coffee and scone in hand, he bid Martin farewell and good luck, and returned to his shop/classroom to wait for classes to resume.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">&gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt;&lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt;​</div><br/>Another enjoyable class done and in the books, he was 10 paces from the front door and freedom when Roberta Smith stopped him with a dilemma.  Seems a student had left in haste earlier in the day.  Gee, I wonder who that could be, he thought, though he immediately dismissed it as pure coincidence.  Until he spied the customized notebook on top of the stack she held.  Seeing<i>Gwen Whitmore</i>written on it in an artistic hand confirmed what he already knew.<br/><br/>Elijah speculated as to whether or not that “good Samaritan” happened to be one Martin Southeby.  Probably so, but it didn’t matter at this stage of the game.  He shook his head at Mrs. Smith mentioning the non-existent policy, and agreed to take her books and laptop.  After all, if you couldn’t trust a teacher, who could you trust?<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">&gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt;&lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt;​</div><br/>Address verified, he hauled her books and laptop out of his Jeep, shortly after parking it.  As luck would have it, a young woman was exiting Gwen’s building and took pity on him and his stacked handful.  She held the door open for him, as he thanked her for her kindness.  It was a secured apartment building, and who knew if Gwen woulda let him in upon buzzing her.<br/><br/>Standing directly in front of her unit’s door, he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.  He would need his head examined in the morning.  Elijah knocked.  Did his pulse rate just increase?