“That was unpleasant,” she remarks.
I almost smile. At the very least.
“Hey, thanks,” I say, not sure how to express how much her support means. “For telling him that. I appreciate it.”
“It’s true. You’ve done great things for the department.” She crosses her arms and fixes me with a stare. “However, Dean, if Ms. Hamilton’s accusations prove true… I’ll gladly watch you fall while I protect this department and university from blame.”
“Understood.”
“Good.” She tilts her head toward the door. “Go get some sleep. You look like hell. Are you going back to California?”
“Flight leaves tomorrow. I should be back in Mirror Lake next weekend, after my father is released from the hospital.”
“I’ll keep you apprised of any developments via email.” Frances sits behind her desk again. “Have a safe journey. There’s an eastern storm approaching, so check your flights.”
I leave, glad to get out of the stuffy office. I’m hungry since I haven’t eaten all day, but I need to work off this tension first. I stop by my office to get my duffle bag.
“Professor West?” Jessica, one of my PhD students, waves at me from down the hall. “Thought you were out of town.”
“I’m leaving again tomorrow.” I stop, one hand on my office doorknob.
A week ago I’d have told her to have a seat so we could discuss her research, the grad seminar, whatever she needs to hash out. Now I’m scared to even let her into my office.
I grip the doorknob harder. Anger seethes.
“I found that paper you suggested.” Jessica digs into her satchel. “Do you have a minute to talk about it?”
“No.” I close the door. “Sorry, I’m… I’ve gotta get going.”
“Oh.” She seems a little disappointed, but shoves the paper back into her bag. “Sorry, caught you at a bad time.”
“No.” I swallow a rising tide of shame as I literally back away from her. “Just an early flight tomorrow. Email me your questions, okay? I’ll get back to you soon.”
“Okay.” She gives me a quizzical look as I turn and head for the elevators.
Jesus. I suddenly have the sick feeling I’ll be on guard with all my students from now on.
I try to shake off the thought as I head for the university gym. A few rounds on the heavy bag, weights, four miles around the indoor track. By the time I’m done, I’m too tired to feel anything. On the way back to the locker room, I grab a towel from a shelf.
“Hey, Professor Marvel, seriously?” Kelsey’s voice cuts into my foggy brain. “Your department made you come back for one meeting?”
I turn to face her. She’s standing by an elliptical machine, all righteous indignation in her workout clothes, her eyes blue lasers behind her rimless glasses.
“What kind of department tells you to come back for one meeting?” she asks.
I swipe the towel over my face and force in a breath. “I’ve got that conference coming up. A book deadline. New faculty possibilities. Lots of stuff going on.”
“One meeting? They couldn’t wait a week?”
I can’t deal with her nosiness. I turn and head toward the men’s locker room, holding up a hand to stop her from following me the way she once did.
“Liv and I will be back in town in a few days,” I tell her. “Take care of her plants until then.”
“Dean, you had a family emergency, and I think you should mention to the provost’s office that your department is—”
“Leave it, Kelsey.” The order comes out harsh and cold.
Kelsey blinks and takes a step back. “Wow. Okay.”
I don’t have the energy to feel guilty for snapping at her. I shove through the locker room door and head for the showers.
On the way home, I pick up a pizza and then eat almost all of it while watching a sports channel. There are two messages on my cell phone from Liv. Finally I call her before it gets too late. For the first time ever, I almost don’t want to talk to her.
Then I hear her voice, like warm honey, and the tension slides away.
“I got your note, Picasso,” I tell her.
“That’s called representational art,” she replies.
“I’m more of an abstract artist, myself.”
“Yes, I know.” There’s a smile in her voice. “I tried to call you earlier. How did the meeting go?”
“Fine. Lasted most of the afternoon, then I went to the gym. Saw the pit viper there.”
She chuckles. “How is she?”
“Viperous.”
“I’ll tell her you said that,” Liv remarks.
“She’ll want an award.”
“Hey, I was watching the news, and they talked about a storm hitting the Midwest tomorrow morning,” Liv says. “They said it could become a blizzard. I’m worried about you driving to the airport.”
“I’ll check the flight and weather status before I leave.”
“Okay, but don’t try and get to the airport if it’s unsafe,” she says. “You can always catch a later flight. Promise me.”