Which was why when she heard a rumor that Professor Pacciani intended to apply for a job in her very department, Christa made an appointment to speak with Professor Barini.
Because she was so intent on revenge, she hadn’t had much time or energy to devote to Professor Emerson and Julianne. In fact, she’d almost forgotten about them.
Since she was early for her appointment, Christa decided to check her departmental pigeonhole. From it, she retrieved a business-sized envelope, emblazoned with the name and address of a prominent New York law firm. She hastily ripped open the letter and read the contents.
“Damn it,” she muttered.
The Professor hadn’t been kidding when he said that he was going to shut her up. She held in her hand a cease-and-desist letter that accused her of several incidents of public defamation of character. Each incident was described in painstaking detail, along with the legal implications of her statements. The letter threatened further action if she persisted in making slanderous remarks about Gabriel or his wife, reserving the right to take action on those incidents that had already occurred.
Fuck, she thought.
Part of her wanted to pen a saucy reply to the law firm. Part of her wanted to continue her crusade to ruin the Emersons simply out of spite.
But as she looked at the other pigeonholes, she realized that such an act would be foolish. If she ever wanted to be admitted to the PhD program and actually graduate, she couldn’t do anything that would embarrass her department.
(And besides, she had a much larger fish to fry.)
As she crammed the letter into her purse, she resolved to forget about the Emersons and focus her attention on ending the career of one Professor Pacciani. To do this, she was going to expose her affair with him.
And, playing the part of the insecure and easily controlled graduate student in Professor Barini’s office, that was precisely what Christa did.
Chapter Twenty-four
Across the ocean, Gabriel switched the light off before pulling Julia into his arms. He began to kiss her neck ardently.
She tensed.
He paused. “What’s the matter?”
“I can’t, remember? I’ll probably be finished the day after tomorrow.”
“I’m not kissing you because I expect sex.”
She arched an eyebrow in the darkness.
“I have a fairly good memory. I remembered that you were on your cycle.” He pulled away, sounding chippy.
She tugged at his arm. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to get your hopes up.”
He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Hope springs eternal.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll show you. Eternally.”
She laughed and curved herself into him.
“So much witty repartée, Professor. I can almost imagine I’m in a Cary Grant movie.”
“You flatter me.” He kissed her eyelids. “Are you excited about being a big sister?”
“Yes. I want the baby to know me. I want to spend time with him or her. I’ve waited my whole life for a sibling.”
“We were planning to spend part of our vacations in Selinsgrove, anyway. As Rachel’s and Scott’s families expand, we’ll want to spend time with them too. Selinsgrove is the best place to do that.”
“That’s another reason to be glad that Richard decided to move back into the house. We’ll all be together.”
Gabriel pulled a lock of her hair thoughtfully. “I’ve come to like your shorter hair. It suits you.”
“Thanks.”
“Although I like your hair long, too.”
“It will grow back, I promise.”
Gabriel stopped his movements.
“I have half siblings.”
“Oh?” Julia forced herself to sound casual.
“When my mother was upset, she used to say that my father left us because he loved his real family more.”
“What a terrible thing to say to a child.” Julia’s tone was severe.
“Yes. She was troubled, but beautiful. Dark hair and dark eyes.”
Julia gave him a questioning look.
“I have my father’s eyes, apparently. I remember my mother being tall, but I can’t imagine she was more than a few inches taller than you.”
“What was her first name?”
“Suzanne. Suzanne Emerson.”
“Do you have any photographs of her?”
“A few. There are baby pictures of me, as well.”
“You’ve been holding out on me. Why have I never seen them?”
“They aren’t hidden. They’re in a drawer back in Cambridge. I even have her diary.”
Julia’s mouth dropped open. “You have your mother’s diary?”
“And her father’s pocket watch. I use it, on occasion.”
“Did you ever read the diary?”
“No.”
“If Sharon had left me a diary, I would have read it.”
Gabriel gazed at her quizzically. “I thought you didn’t have anything of your mother’s.”
“They sent my father a box of her stuff when she died.”
“And?”
“And I have no idea what’s in it. Dad used to keep it in his closet. I’m assuming he still has it. Now that you’ve reminded me, I should probably ask him to let me see it.”
“I’ll go with you.”