Chapter 22 #2
The walls are matte gray, the bookshelves lacquered lavender, and the opposite wall without a bookcase is dotted with colorful shiny lavender and mauve framed photos of her designs, most of which I recognize as award-winning.
The largest photo is of her accepting an award at Paris’s fashion week two years ago.
“Come in. Sit.” She waves her arm in the direction of one of the two fluffy white guest chairs, and it turns out they’re also comfortable.
“Gorgeous office.”
She nods, but her smile is unconvincing.
“I asked you to come in to discuss your project, but first I want to update you on the campus police investigation into the vandalism. They checked the classroom last night, and since there was no sign of forced entry, they think it was an inside job, that someone had a key.”
“A key? Like maybe a janitor?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. They’re not ruling it out.
They also checked all the cameras in the area, and they saw a person near the building’s entry who they described as a female with a black hoodie, torn jeans, and heavy dark work boots.
They were in the area the night before we discovered the vandalism. ”
I open my mouth, but I can’t say what pops into my head out loud.
“Sound like someone you know?” Professor M arches a brow, nodding with a world-weary look on her face.
“You don’t think…”
“I do. Darcy fits the profile.” She pauses as if to let the absurd notion sink in. It does, and with it, a sick feeling comes with it.
She continues, “I gave her a key to the classroom so she could drop off a belt.” She shakes her head. “I should have known better.”
“But…” I don’t want it to make sense, but the pieces are falling together, and I realize Darcy’s attitude toward me has been more than rude. She’s jealous. Which is crazy because she—
“I told the police that I gave Darcy the key and that she almost always wears ripped jeans and work boots, which gives her opportunity and possibly puts her in the vicinity.” She takes a breath. “I also told them she might have a motive.”
I stare at her, hoping she’s not going to confirm my crazy suspicion, but her sad expression tells me otherwise.
“I told them Darcy is jealous of you. It’s been clear to me almost from day one. I tried to talk to her about it, but she brushed me off, saying I was being ridiculous.”
“Wow.” It’s all I can say because I’m too confused and still not willing to believe that Darcy is a jealous psycho.
“I’m afraid she’s a troubled young lady.
The police will be questioning her once they check the janitorial staff and anyone else who has a key.
It may take a few days. They probably won’t be talking to her until after the fashion show.
I realize that will be awkward at the very least under the circumstances, but I hope you can—”
“We’re roommates.”
Professor M frowns. “Oh. That’s unfortunate.”
I nod. “But don’t worry. I’ll handle it. I’m not a fragile daisy.”
“Good. I suspected as much. In the meantime,” she straightens and uses a brighter voice, “let’s see if we can create another glam dress for you by tomorrow night.”
A smile develops as I latch onto the lifeline she’s throwing me.
“Absolutely. I already have a sketch and a list of readily available materials.”
“You gather up the materials and I’ll get started on making a pattern. Email me your sketches.” She stands.
“Really? You’re going to…”
“You bet I am, and don’t let anyone tell you it’s cheating. When emergencies come up in any design shop—and in life—people need to work together. All the decisions are yours. I’ll be an ordinary workhorse, your assistant until we’re finished.”
“You are the best, most generous professor I’ve ever had.
I can’t thank you enough.” I want to jump over her desk and give her a big hug, but I know she’d be horrified because it might disturb her picture-perfect outfit and hair.
Even her jewelry is arranged with delicate precision from the dangling earrings to the multiple ropes of pearls and silver beads to every one of her curated bangled bracelets.
“No need. Get to work and make me proud.”
After rushing around buying up materials at the Coop, including a few hockey jerseys, glittery trim, glue, and two jackets for their silver buttons, I rush home, drop my bags on my bed, rip off my coat, and throw open my closet door.
There are a couple of gorgeous dresses and a sweater that I’m going to have to cannibalize.
Ricci comes into the room and follows me to where I stand in front of my closet like I’m a surgeon getting ready to operate on a dying patient.
“What the flick are you doing?”
I turn to her.
“And why do you have scissors in your hand?”
Later, with my head still down over my sewing machine, I’m startled to hear Trick’s voice through the closed door. It opens, and there he is with Nina standing behind him.
“Sorry,” she says as I keep my eyes on Trick. He stalks toward me.
Nina follows. “There’s no stopping Trick when he wants to see you. He threatened to pick me up bodily and toss me onto the couch, and as much fun as that sounds—”
Trick reaches me, and I jump to my feet and throw myself into his arms. The story spills out, though I’m careful not to directly accuse Darcy; he’s a smart guy.
“Where’s Darcy now?” His voice and expression are darker than I’ve ever seen except with Vincent. He’s normally so chill, using humor to deal with problems and a make-love-not-war mentality.
I don’t know, and I glance at Nina. He turns to her.
She shrugs. “She went out early, carrying a bag, and said not to expect her back for a while. She wouldn’t say where she was going when I asked, but she has a cousin who lives in Portsmouth that she’s visited before, so maybe she’s staying there?”
“Shit. Why would she leave now when we have the fashion show and Winter Snow Ball Saturday night?”
“Maybe because she found out about Professor M helping you on the project,” Nina says. “She was monkey-ass mad about it. Said it was cheating, but I defended you.”
“Thanks, Nina.” I give her arm a squeeze.
“Good riddance,” Trick says. “How can I help you?” He tightens his hold, and it’s a good thing he does because my knees are about to weaken at the raw emotions I see in his eyes, the earnest compassion that warms me like a hot chocolate fortified with a shot of whiskey.
I take his face in my hands. “Trick, I would love more than anything to have you at my side, but unfortunately, you’re too much of a distraction and you don’t have sewing skills.”
“I could be your model. Drape your dress on me.” He grins, and I decide he’s not serious, although I’m enjoying the image.
“Stop tempting me. Seriously. I’ll be meeting Professor M at our classroom first thing in the morning, and we’ll be working on this new design together,” I say. “I’m in good hands. Besides, I want this design to be a surprise for you.”
“For me? You have me all wrong; I’m not into wearing dresses—”
Nina rolls her eyes. “You two are disgusting.” She tugs on Trick’s arm. “Let’s get you out of here. Don’t you have to go skate or shoot a puck somewhere?”
“Now that you mention it. If I hurry, I can make it for the end of team dinner.”
“I can’t believe you’re missing the team dinner. Isn’t that a capital offense?”
“No, Zabra might only chop off a finger on my non-dominant hand if he’s in a good mood.”
“Ew,” Nina says, still tugging on Trick’s arm, though he doesn’t budge an inch.
“Okay, I’ll leave, but I’ll see you after the game Saturday, before the Snow Ball.”
“I’ll be in the Granite State room at the Memorial Union Building while they’re setting up for the fashion show.”
“I know.” He gives me a kiss, a long, slow, melting kiss until I’m leaning into him so hard I wonder why I’m letting him go. But I do.
It’s late when I emerge from my room, stretching and starving, and surprised to find Ricci and Nina at home, lounging in their PJs with the TV uselessly playing in the background like a comforting relic from childhood while they scroll on their phones.
Ricci looks up. “She lives.”
“Not for long if I don’t eat.” I open the refrigerator and take out a protein drink. “What are you looking at? Anything interesting?”
Ricci looks at Nina, and they exchange one of those looks like they’re considering their options.
“Spill it.” I take my drink and sit between them, waiting out their silence.
Nina breaks first in spite of Ricci’s glare.
Darcy retaliates by tagging Vincent on social media with a pic of Fifi & Trick kissing and not-so-subtle hints that there’s something serious going on between Trick and Fifi and a bride and groom emoji.