Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Dexter
I’m sitting in the lounge chair closest to my office window reading fiction entries in the newest publication of the Colorado Literary Journal.
But no matter how hard I try to focus I keep rereading the same sentence.
I honestly believed I had my thoughts under control concerning Alis, but then we walked into each other and the smell of her perfume overtook me.
A combination of cedarwood, vanilla, and maybe something floral?
I have no idea what perfume she uses, but it’s intoxicating.
Distinctly, Alis. I’ve never met another woman who wore that same perfume, yet somehow her scent reminds me of an old friend.
No one in particular, but the scent calms me and excites me at the same time, making me feel like everything is right in the world.
Her lingering scent on my shirt triggers thoughts of the two of us standing close, my hand on her jaw as I was about to kiss her the night we met.
I wish I could go back to that moment and freeze time while I bury my nose in her hair and then trail kisses from her earlobe, down her neck, and to her collarbone.
I bet her skin tastes as delicious as her scent.
Her kiss tasted of vodka and pomegranate lip balm; her lips, full and soft, felt like coming home.
I shake my head and rub my eyes, trying to push thoughts of Alis from my mind.
I’m a words man, but I’ve never mentally articulated personal feelings like this before.
My work has never competed for my attention, not even with Laura.
When I’m working, I’m working. When I was with Laura, I was with Laura.
She had her own compartment in my brain, and she stayed there.
I loved her, she was always a priority in my life, but my work was always my favorite pursuit. It’s still my favorite pursuit, right?
Focus, man. She’s your grader. She won’t always be my grader.
She won’t always be off limits. And I know she wants me just as badly as I want her.
Every time she turns me down I can’t help but think her lips say one thing, while her heart says another.
Dumas always did have a way with words. Perfectly poetic truths that cut to the core.
Just as I’m about to give up on reading and work on emails instead, a line in the student author’s bio catches my eye: “in collaboration with Dr. Jonathan Ryan, PhD, Grant University.” I smile.
I haven’t seen that man in years. I wonder how he’s doing?
He and I both presented at the Surrey International Writers’ Conference five or six years ago while I was drafting my dissertation.
I was stuck in a rut and couldn’t dig my way out of writer’s block no matter how hard I tried, and one conversation with him cleared away the fog and put me back on track.
I would have finished my PhD with or without his advice, but there’s no doubt in my mind that our conversation over lunch that day was the catalyst that transformed my research from good to incredible.
I’ve met a few of his pupils at various conferences, and simply having his name attached to their studies has secured them tenured positions at universities across the country.
Oh, to be a disciple of Jonathan Ryan. I laugh to myself.
I didn’t have the advantage of “who you know” when I began my hunt for a faculty position.
The closer I got to finishing and defending, the more anxious I felt about the lack of job prospects coming my way.
Finally, I lucked out meeting Abigail Matthews while finishing my PhD in French Literature at the University of Montreal.
She served as a guest lecturer in an intensive seminar co-taught by my major professor and ended up serving as an external reader for my dissertation.
I had just finished my first year post-PhD adjunct teaching online for a few universities across Canada when I received a call from Dr. Matthews asking if I’d be interested in teaching at Middle Peak.
Their French language professor was set to retire before the beginning of the next academic year and, being the head of the Literature and Languages department, she was tasked with finding his replacement.
Originally I had hoped to stay closer to home in Montreal, but teaching here has been a dream come true.
I attended undergrad in New England before returning to Canada for graduate school and PhD work, so I was no stranger to America.
I can say, however, that eastern culture is vastly different from western.
Aside from being in the same country, Rhode Island and Colorado are two different worlds.
My mobile alarm sounds and promptly ends the mental stroll down memory lane.
As I stand to gather my things and head to a faculty meeting, I see Alis out my office window.
She’s walking across campus with Brody Davenport, and she’s smiling up at him.
I clench my fist at the thought of her cozying up to him, giving him her undivided attention and affection.
Calm down, Dex. They’re just walking and talking.
People do that. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, releasing the tension that took hold of me at the sight of them together.
One, I have no right to feel possessive of her.
Two, Brody’s a good kid, but he’s too young for Alis.
He’s what, twenty-three? I have no clue.
Either way, I don’t see Alis being interested in younger men.
It doesn’t matter if she is or not, because she’s your grader and she turned you down — TWICE.
I can’t think about this right now. I have five minutes to get across campus for the faculty-wide beginning of the semester meeting and walking in frustrated can only result in a hundred probing questions from Leo about my sour mood.
Just as I arrive at the auditorium door a small hand slides down my arm, caressing my bicep. “Hey, Dex. I haven’t seen you in, what, two months?” I cringe at the sound of Savannah’s voice but plaster on a smile as I turn to greet her while walking to find a seat.
“Hi, Savannah. Yeah, it’s been a while. How have you been?” Be pleasant. Be kind. Don’t be an asshole.
Her eyes light up at my inquiry. “I’ve been great!
I spent most of the summer traveling …” she shakes her head and laughs, “but you already knew that. I still wish you and Leo had decided to join the group of us in Florida. The beaches were to die for and the little bungalow we stayed in had a private beach just for us. I can’t begin to express how incredible it was to lay out in the sun without worrying about tan lines. ”
Of course, she went there. I don’t even know how to respond to that.
“Uh, yeah. Sounds like you had a great time. You know why we couldn’t tag along, though.
Leo and I both had a shit ton of work to do this summer and besides, you went with your sisters.
Don’t you think it would have been a bit awkward taking a trip, just the five of us? ”
I see Leo about halfway down on the left. I lift my chin in acknowledgment and head in his direction. I failed at ending this conversation before it even began, so Savannah follows close behind, speaking quietly so only I can hear.
“I think we could have had a great time,” she croons. “And it wasn’t just my sisters — a few friends from college came, too. You guys missed out on a week of relaxation, surrounded by topless women. We could have enjoyed the hot tub together, or the outdoor shower.”
I swear, this woman is disgustingly forward. I don’t want to hear another word about her trip but I also don’t want to cause a scene by telling her to fuck off. I stop at the end of Leo's row and, before making my way toward my seat, turn and look down at Savannah.
“Look, Savannah, I’m glad you had a good summer and had fun with your friends in Florida.
However, I’ve told you more than once that I’m not interested and I’d appreciate it if you respect that.
” Direct, but considerate. I try my best not to beat around the bush when it comes to women, but no matter how many times I say no to her, she still thinks we are going to happen.
She laughs and slaps my arm, no doubt an attempt to make everyone around us think I’m telling her some hilarious anecdote. Her mouth may be laughing but her eyes are … sad? Angry? Resentful? I’m not sure but I think it’s some combination of the three.
Gripping my bicep once again — much harder this time; fuck her nails are sharp — she finishes her laughing charade.
“Oh, Dexter. You are too much. I’d love to chat some more but I need to go find Jessica.
Talk later! Hey, Leo!” Savannah twiddles her fingers his way and then walks off to find her friend and colleague.
Leo looks at me as I sit down next to him, a questioning look on his face. “What was that about?”
“Not worth rehashing. Where’s the dean? I have so much to catch up on today; I hope this meeting doesn’t drag on.”
Leo drops his voice, impersonating our ancient dean of faculty who speaks slower than a turtle crawls. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming today. It’s always a pleasure to begin a new semester surrounded by such competent faculty and staff.”
I shake my head, rubbing my forehead. “One day he’s going to hear you and then you’ll be fucked. You know that, right?”
Before Leo can respond, Dr. Daniels clears his throat in the podium microphone, calling all to attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming today …”
As I walk back into my office suite nearly an hour later, I see Deborah typing away at her desktop. I swear that woman is like the Energizer Bunny. I’ve never seen fingers fly across a keyboard as quickly as hers.
“Deborah, have you already set up my weekly meetings with Alis Gilmore?” She looks up at me, pushing her sliding glasses up her nose.
“Not yet. She took my card and said she’d reach out, but I’m happy to email her and get them on your calendar if you’d like.” Yes, I would like. I would like very, very much. The sooner the better.
“Perfect. I know Wednesdays I have an hour open for lunch. Can you put her down for 11:30 and tell her to meet me at Nico’s?”
Deborah eyes me suspiciously. “Nico’s? Isn’t that place packed during the lunch rush? How are you supposed to have a productive meeting surrounded by frat kids with no concept of volume control?”
I rub my chin. “Good point.” But I want to share a meal with her. A non-date meal, of course. Strictly professional.
“They deliver around campus, right?” Deborah opens a drawer to her right and shuffles through a stack of menus. This glorious woman is always prepared for anything. She finds the Nico’s trifold and scans the front page from top to bottom.
“Yep. Thin crust, pepperoni and bacon?”
I smile at her. “You know me so well. What would I do without you?”
She smirks. “Forget every meeting, be late for class, walk around with coffee stains on your shirt. My ability to remember superfluous details like your topping preferences should garner me a raise, yeah?”
“You know I would if I could. Next time we do employee evals I’ll drop a hint to Matthews, sound good?”
“Most definitely. And until then, Dr. Belanger, don’t forget I accept gifts of appreciation in the form of coffee and breakfast pastries.”
I wink at her before heading to my office. “Only for you, Deb. You’re a gem.”
“A diamond!” she hollers at my back as I enter my office and close the door behind me.