Chapter 44 Chloe
chloe
I sit with my hands under my thighs to keep from fidgeting, but it does fuck all to stop my foot from practically tapping its way out of orbit. The plastic chair I find myself in is both cold and uncomfortable, and the waiting room is quiet enough that I can hear my own heartbeat.
When I set this meeting with the dean of students, I did so in a blind rage. I let my emotions take control of me, which isn't par for the course, but now that I’m here, it’s the first time I’ve thought about how my actions might affect me and my future going forward.
With that thought, my foot stops tapping, and I sit up a little straighter because I know that whatever comes of this meeting, at least I wasn’t complacent. I refuse to be quiet about how this university treats its best, brightest, and most hard working students. And I’m not referring to myself.
A door opens, but it’s not the one I’m waiting for.
A woman roughly my age, with soft blonde hair, carrying an oversized bag enters the waiting room.
She’s dressed in a pair of straight leg jeans with a plain white T-shirt tucked into the top, but it’s the oversized bright pink and orange cable knit sweater that steals the show.
Her hair is pulled back and wrapped in a bandana hair tie, and other than a light dusting of mascara, I don’t think she’s wearing any other makeup.
She offers me a small smile with an even smaller wave before sitting down on the chair beside me.
“Excuse me,” she whispers. “Are you waiting for the meeting with Dean Meyer?” She looks over my shoulder with something like worry etched on her beautiful doll-like face.
I nod and she breathes a sigh of relief.
“Okay, good. I was worried I was going to be late.”
My eyebrows bunch, and when my head tilts to the side, I know I’m not hiding my confusion.
She smiles softly. "If a student requests a meeting with the dean regarding another professor or department head, they typically bring in your advisor to support you, as well as another random faculty member to be an impartial witness.
" She clutches her large bag to her chest with a small shrug. "That's me."
“Are you a professor?”
“Technically? No.”
“What about not-technically?”
“I’m a visiting writer,” she says with a soft smile. It’s a pretty smile, but it's her big doe eyes that catch my attention. One eye is hazel and the other is blue. She folds her lips between her teeth, and I realize I’ve been caught staring.
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect…” I scratch my eyebrow before running my fingers through my hair. “I mean, you can’t be much older than me.”
“Oh, you might be my new best friend,” she says with a laugh. “I just had a baby last semester, so I really needed that.”
“I’m Chloe,” I say, extending my hand to her.
“Summer.” She takes my hand in hers, and I notice the sprinkle of dainty tattoos along her wrist.
The door that I’ve been waiting for finally opens behind me; Summer and I both turn and stand.
“Ms. Cooper, they’re ready for you.”
Shane Meyer has been the dean of students the last four years.
Meaning, he’s likely close to his last year depending on what his turn over looks like.
I’m not sure if that's good or bad for me. His office is smaller than I imagined, and a lot less crowded with stuff than I would expect from someone who’s been here for so long.
I’m probably just used to Ms. Lawson and her eclectic taste.
“Alright, Ms. Cooper, you know Mrs. Lawson,” he says, pointing a hand at my advisor in the corner. “And you must be Ms. Beaumont?”
“Yes, hi.”
They exchange a brief handshake before she takes a seat beside my advisor.
“Ms. Cooper, since you called this meeting, and my office aide scheduled it under the guise that it was urgent, why don’t you go ahead and start.”
“Oh.” His no-nonsense tone doesn’t exactly leave room for this to be a friendly meeting. My knee-jerk reaction is to attack, but when I take a glance over at the women behind me, and they both give an encouraging dip of their chin, I steel my breath and square my shoulders.
“Well, I thought for the integrity of your university, you might be interested in knowing about the unfairness in the hiring process going on here. I say this, assuming it maybe hasn’t been brought to your attention before.”
He remains seated up right in his chair, and other than the tap of his finger on his desk, he shows no other reaction. “Go on.”
The urge to slam my hands on his desk and start screaming at him is almost overwhelming, but I tamp it down, focusing on what I came here for.
“I was recently denied a teaching assistant position for next semester, not because I didn’t earn it, or based on any merrit, but because of who my boyfriend is.”
Out of my periphery, I catch the way Summer’s eyes narrow, and I’m assuming no one told her when she was called in what this meeting was about.
Dean Meyer’s eyebrows raise, and he keeps his eyes on me when he leans forward on his desk. “Do you have any claims to back this accusation up?”
“I wouldn’t call it an accusation, sir. I’m just relaying the information. I was told by the department head, Professor Peterson, that I was, in fact, the best suited for the position, but who I”—I pause, lifting my finger quotes—“associate myself with matters.”
Dean Meyer looks at the two women over my shoulder. Either looking for someone to back up my claims, or for help, I’m not sure.
“If this is true, we would need to have a meeting with Professor Peterson and—”
“Respectfully—” I hold up a hand, cutting him off.
“I’m not looking to get the job anymore.
I didn’t call this meeting to have you go changing anyone’s mind.
I just wanted you to be aware of what kind of hiring—or lack thereof—is happening at one of the top universities.
” I put a little extra emphasis on ‘top university’ to remind him of Linden Creek's standings.
He at least has the decency to look ashamed when he holds his hands open atop his desk. “Be that as it may, we can’t allow this to continue.”
I look over my shoulder, and Summer’s lip is curled until we lock eyes. Her mouth softens into a smile, and from under her giant bag, she puts her little ring decorated thumb up. Ms. Lawson has a slight sheen in her eyes when she smiles and nods approvingly at me.
I turn back around, facing the dean. “Also, I’m fairly certain that Professor Peterson has been persuaded by another student's dislike for me.” If I had to guess, it’s Nathan’s dislike for Maverick that made him talk to his uncle.
Either so he could swoop in himself when things fell to shit, or as a punishment just to rub it in my face.
If I had to put money on it, I’d say it was the latter.
Dean Meyer’s eyebrows raise, finally giving me some sort of reaction, but I continue, “I might not be able to prove that part, but if I were you, I would be very concerned with how people will react when they find out that a department head can be so easily influenced by a student. Proven or not. We all know how a label can stick with someone.”
The dean's lips twitch, but he quickly covers it with his hand. “Well, Ms. Cooper, I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, and I can assure you, the situation will be rectified.”
I nod my head once, feeling a small weight lift off my shoulders. It was never about getting the job, or getting another chance at it, it was about making sure they didn’t win at tearing him down.
I stand from my chair, smile at the women behind me, and move to the exit.
“Ms. Cooper,” the dean says, stopping me with my hand on the door. “Maybe if you don't end up pursuing assistant teaching, you might find you have a natural talent for persuasion.”
“Maybe,” I say. “Or maybe I’ll just save the situation for the plot of a future book.”