Chapter 28
CECE
I was pouring coffee into a travel mug when I got a text. I glanced at my phone and saw it was from Dean Carver. “Shit,” I muttered.
That was not the way I wanted to start my day.
I used my finger to hit the button to open the message and then went back to fixing my coffee.
The text was a request for me to meet her in her office before lunch.
It was cute that she phrased it as a request when we both knew there wasn’t really an option to decline.
I sent back a quick reply promising to be there after my first class and shoved the phone into my back pocket. Whatever Carver wanted, it couldn’t be good. Nothing good ever came from being summoned to the dean’s office.
“Sophie, baby, come give Mama a hug before I go!” I called out, screwing the lid onto my travel mug.
The sound of tiny feet thundering down the hallway preceded my daughter’s dramatic entrance into the kitchen. Her red curls were already escaping from the ponytail I’d wrestled them into this morning, and she had what looked suspiciously like marker on her cheek.
“Are we going to finish the castle today?”
I crouched down to her level, smoothing one of those rebellious curls behind her ear. “Yep. When I get home, we’ll finish the whole thing. The castle, the drawbridge, even those tiny little knights.”
I didn’t know who the creator of the Lego sets was, but I would love to have a conversation with them.
I wanted to know why they thought thirty-two million pieces the size of a pen tip was a good idea for kids.
But Sophie loved the kits. Every Christmas, birthday, and whenever she could persuade us to buy her a new set led to us owning enough to start our own Lego store.
But I told myself Legos were better than screens.
“Promise?” She stuck out her pinky finger with the solemnity of someone negotiating a peace treaty.
“Promise.” I hooked my pinky with hers and sealed it with a kiss to her forehead. “Granny’s going to take you to the park today.”
“Really?”
I grinned and stood up. “Yep.”
I collected my things and headed out. I sat through my first class thinking about the looming meeting with Carver. I had a feeling I knew what was coming. She wanted to know if I had any information on the professor.
Me telling her I got the goods in more ways than one was not a smart idea.
I was supposed to be a spy. If there was a spy school, I assumed fucking your target was a bad idea.
No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. Some spies were supposed to fuck their targets to extract information.
But that did not apply to my situation. My mission was a failure.
Well, she would see it as a failure. I saw it as mind-blowing sex that rocked my world and made me question what I wanted in life.
And then it all exploded. That was definitely a failure. But she couldn’t know about that.
At appointed time, I knocked on Dean Carver’s office door at exactly eleven-thirty, hoping to get it over with quickly.
Her voice called out for me to enter. I stepped inside to find her seated behind her oversized mahogany desk like some kind of dictator.
Her hair had been fluffed and she’d smeared on a red lipstick that did not look good on her.
She gave me that placid, polished smile. “Cece, thank you for coming. Please, sit down and shut the door.”
I did as she asked and turned around to see it wasn’t just me and her in the room. Professor Stone was seated across from her.
He looked calm, unreadable, professional. Too professional. Like someone about to testify under oath. He barely looked my way.
Alarm bells started clanging in my skull. Danger! Danger! Danger!
My palms prickled. What do I do? Where do I sit? Should I just run and never look back?
I just nodded and stepped forward on numb legs.
My throat was dry and the room felt too hot.
I sat down in the chair next to Grady. I had to resist the urge to scoot the chair away from him.
That would be just a little too obvious.
I was close enough to catch his scent. He hadn’t looked at me yet.
Just sat there, hands folded politely on his lap.
No one said anything. The tension in the room was thick enough to make me gag. I started sweating. If I ended up with pit stains, she was going to notice and that would make her think I was guilty. I was guilty but she didn’t need to know it.
Did Grady confess? Did he crack under pressure?
Or had Carver somehow found out on her own?
My mind raced, my stomach twisting into knots.
I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t risk even a glance.
If I did, I’d give everything away. My face would betray me, my body would betray me—hell, even my breathing would probably scream guilty .
I would look at him like I’d seen him naked. She’d see it and we’d be busted.
I was supposed to be the spy, the one gathering intel on Grady’s so-called “philandering.” Instead, I’d become the philanderer.
The irony wasn’t lost on me, but it wasn’t exactly comforting either.
I’d crossed a line when I chose to fuck him.
I’d obliterated it and now I was sitting in the suffocating room with the two people who could ruin my life with a single sentence. I wanted to scream.
Carver’s smile was too sweet, too calculated.
She was waiting for one of us to break. Was this an interrogation?
A negotiation? A trap? I didn’t know the rules, and that made it worse.
My palms were slick with sweat, and I clenched them into fists to keep from wiping them on my jeans.
If I moved too much, she’d notice. If I stayed too still, she’d notice.
There was no winning here. What did a normal person sit like?
I wanted to speak, to fill the silence with something—anything—but I bit my tongue. Speaking first felt like admitting guilt. But staying silent felt like guilt too. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure they could hear it.
Dean Carver finally spoke. “I called you up because I’d like to discuss your TA appointment under Professor Stone,”
I braced myself. “Of course.”
“Professor Stone mentioned you expressed interest in a transfer to another professor’s course. Is that correct?”
My brain spun. What the hell? I never expressed anything like that. Well, yes, but that was in the heat of the moment. That was when I was talking to him in a very private conversation.
But clearly Grady was trying to get rid of me. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of looking surprised. Or hurt. I was definitely not going to look angry. I licked my lips, swallowed the lump in my throat, and focused. “Yes. I thought it might be better.”
Dean Carver folded her hands. “Thank you for being honest. Tell me, is there some concern with Professor Stone’s leadership or your interaction?”
Her gaze flicked to him and then back to me. I knew exactly what she was asking. It was the moment she’d been salivating over. She wanted me to tell her I wanted to transfer out of his class because he was a lascivious man whore.
Nope. I’m the whore. I’m the horny one that couldn’t get enough of the sexy professor.
Grady sat still as a statue. I swallowed again. Everything inside me urged confession. There was an overwhelming need to unburden my soul and tell her all about the drama. But I held it in.
I shook my head. “No, ma’am. Professor Stone has been great to work with.” My heart beat like a hummingbird.
Dean Carver studied me, a faint crease of concern around her mouth. She tilted her head like she was trying to see into my brain. I knew she had hoped I would tell her something she could use against him. “I see.” She paused and looked at Grady, then back at me. “Then why the desire to transfer?”
It was my turn to look at Grady to try and understand what was happening. But dammit, he wouldn’t fucking look at me.
“It was mainly due to the scuba trip,” I said. “Professor Stone explained he had safety concerns about my participation due to my responsibilities. And I wondered if the fit was right.”
Dean Carver raised an eyebrow. “Responsibilities being…?”
I didn’t know what to say. This whole thing was Grady’s big idea. I hadn’t come running to the dean when things got complicated.
The dean leaned forward and leveled her gaze at Grady. “Professor Stone, is there a safety issue? What’s going on here?”
He exhaled and finally looked at me. His eyes were tired. Not angry. “I was being cautious. She shouldn’t be on the dive. There’s a good chance there will be a storm coming in.” He swallowed hard.
Dean Carver took a slow breath. She flipped through notes. “Well, it appears you haven’t canceled the trip.” She tapped her pen on the desk. “I don’t see any reason why Ms. Monroe shouldn’t accompany the team.” She looked at me. “Is that acceptable?”
I felt a rush of relief and nodded. “Yes.”
Stone hesitated, but he nodded also, more tightly, like he was conceding territory.
Carver shifted to the next point, her tone casual again.
“I’m denying the transfer request.” She leaned back.
“At this time, I don’t think that will serve departmental goals.
We need you on this project. You’re talented, and this is expected to be a major discovery—it would be unfortunate to reassign one of our best students now.
If it’s safe enough for Lina, I don’t see the problem. You’re taking her.”
I watched Grady close his eyes for a moment. I didn’t know if she caught the disappointment on his face, but I did. That stung. It was a blow to my ego. I didn’t know I was such a burden.
Fuck him.
“Thank you, Dean,” I said with a smile.
Carver offered a polished smile. “Cece, I’ve known you as a strong, capable presence in the department. If something’s bothering you with Professor Stone, I hope you’ll tell me—especially if it involves conduct or professional boundaries.”
Grady coughed. I had to fight back the smile. It was his turn to feel like he was in the hot seat. “The boundaries are fine.”
Carver nodded. “Then you’ll continue as Professor Stone’s TA and participate in the dive trip.” She clasped her hands. “Understood?”
“Understood,” I said.
She leaned forward with a smile that made me feel very uncomfortable. “Excellent. I’ll let you resume coordination with Professor Stone. Cece, make us proud. This dive could bring in funding for the next five years.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said.
I stood up, smoothing my hands over my jeans like I could wipe away the tension clinging to me. Grady rose too, his movements stiff, his jaw tight. He still wouldn’t look at me. Fine. If he wanted to play the stoic professor, I could play the dutiful TA.
“Thank you, Dean Carver,” I said, my voice dripping with sweetness. “I’m so grateful for the opportunity to continue working with Professor Stone. I’m sure I’ll learn so much from him.”
Grady’s head snapped toward me, his green eyes narrowing just a fraction. I gave him a bright smile, the kind that said “fuck you” without anyone else catching on.
Carver didn’t seem to catch the jab. If she did, she chose to ignore it. “Good luck to you both,” she said, her tone final. “I expect results.”