“Wow, that’s great!” Sophie was swept up by the enthusiasm in her mentor’s voice, as usual. That woman could convince her to try anything, to do anything—the sky was the limit. “I’m so happy for you, Anita.”
“Oh, just wait, my dear. You haven’t heard the half of it. I need to hire a visiting instructor to teach my fall-semester classes. We were interviewing some candidates but nobody looked promising. Then I got a phone call and the idea just came to me. I need somebody to teach my classes and, Sophie, that somebody is you! I talked it over with the department chair, and we want to hire you to be a visiting instructor.”
Sophie collapsed into a chair, sitting in stunned silence.
“Sophie?” Anita’s expectant voice filled her ear. “Did you hear me?”
“Yeah. I think so. Um, are you offering me a job?”
“Yes, precisely! We want you to teach in the psychology department.”
“But the state board took away my license, Anita.”
“I heard that, but you don’t need your license to teach, just to practice.”
Sophie took a deep breath. She remained mired in disbelief, but a tiny spark of possibility ignited inside her.
“I thought …” She gulped. “I thought I disgraced the entire psychology department when I went to prison.”
“Oh, Sophie, why would you think that? You made a mistake, that’s all. And when you tried to make up for it, you landed in a huge mess. You were one of our best and brightest grad students, and it would be impossible to mar your excellent reputation with just one mistake. But I didn’t get the chance to tell you any of this because you never contacted me! Why haven’t you called me this whole time?”
“I thought you’d be ashamed of me,” Sophie said. “You worked so hard to train me, and then I went and messed it all up.”
Anita sighed, feeling unsure what to say. Sophie had arrived at graduate school with little self-esteem, and it had taken Anita years to build up the young woman’s confidence. It appeared her stint in prison had landed her back at square one.
“I’m not ashamed at all. I’m just happy to hear your voice again. I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Sophie smiled wistfully, then asked, “Wait a minute—how did you get my number? I mean, how did you find out I’d been released?”
“Let’s see, a man named Grant, um, Grant … Madsen, yes, that’s his name. He called and asked if I knew of any job opportunities for you.”
Tears sprang to Sophie’s eyes.
Anita broke the silence. “He told me you were the smartest woman he’d ever met, and it would be a travesty if the field of psychology did not utilize your expertise. Who is he, Sophie?”
“He’s … he’s the man …” Her emotion-laden voice trailed off as she pictured his compassionate crystal-blue eyes boring into her. This was the kindest, most thoughtful gift she had ever received. Despite her earlier frustration, intense warmth filled her heart, and she realized how she really felt about him. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “He’s the man I love,” she finally managed.
“Why are you crying?” Anita inhaled sharply. “He doesn’t have anything to do with the man who put you in prison, does he?”
“Oh, no,” Sophie reassured her. “Grant has nothing to do with Logan Barberi.” She sniffed. “It’s just that nobody has ever done something so incredibly and unexpectedly nice for me.”
“Sounds like Grant means a lot to you.”
“Yes. I’m a little overwhelmed by this.”
“Well, you deserve it, Sophie. You’ve had quite a string of bad luck, and it’s time for things to start going right. Listen, I have to get back to packing. My flight is tomorrow night, but I want to meet with you before that to review some things. Can we meet in the morning? Let’s say around nine?”
“Sure,” Sophie agreed, still in shock. Then, after mentally thinking through her next day, she cried, “Oh, wait! Tomorrow is Wednesday.” She sniffed and then bit her lip. Her voice lowered to barely above a whisper. “I have to meet with my parole officer tomorrow at nine.”
“Well, how about right after that then?” Anita suggested, not fazed at all. “We need at least a few hours to get you settled with the teaching duties.”
“A few hours? Hmm … I’m supposed to be at work at eleven.”
“Really? What’s your job?”
Sophie grinned. “Serving drinks on an architectural cruise.”
“Oh, that sounds, um, nice.” Anita was not sure how to respond, and Sophie rescued her with an attempt at humor.
“I still get to use my training, though. You know what they say—bartenders are just like therapists.”
Anita laughed, and Sophie said, “I’ll call my boss and ask for a day off tomorrow.” She crossed her fingers that she’d find Roger in a good mood. Dieting had made him irritable and kind of depressed of late. “I’ll be there, Anita,” Sophie promised.
“I look forward to seeing you in my office, Sophie. Have a good night.”
“Anita?” Sophie added. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But you should thank Grant for calling me in the first place.”
Sophie hung up and sat back with a sigh, slowly and thoughtfully running her tongue across her upper lip. Anita was thrilled to receive a grant, and Sophie was equally pleased to get her Grant. She would definitely thank him. Properly.
*
Logan crouched behind a line of bushes fronting a brownstone apartment building in the Gold Coast, Chicago’s wealthiest neighborhood. He knew the area well. Across the street was his Uncle Angelo’s mansion, alight with activity tonight: Ben’s sixteenth birthday bash. Expensive cars rolled to a stop as parents dropped off the teenage guests. Logan was amused as he observed the low-riding, baggy jeans of the boys and the plunging halter-top necklines of the girls. Strains of Fallout Boy or Chris Brownblasted from the house each time Ben opened the door for one of his friends.
Catching a glimpse of his son in the doorway, Logan’s jaw clenched. He should be there, celebrating this rite of passage. But as a man wanted by the police, Logan was stuck watching the festivities from afar. It crushed him that Ben didn’t seem very happy as he greeted his guests. He wore a morose expression and didn’t even crack a smile as he accepted haphazardly wrapped gifts from the arriving teens. Logan wanted to smack his son upside the head for his rudeness.