The Professor's Predicament

by Dianne Harman

  "Relax, Mom, I'm fine. He never laid a finger on me," Lacie assured her.

  "Well, you were beginning to worry me. I've heard some things about him today that have made me question his character and integrity."

  "No surprise there. Everyone on campus knows that at the beginning of each semester, he scopes out all of the girls in his class to see which one he might want to have help him with what are commonly known as his special assignments," Lacie explained. "But in reality, the woman who gets to help him with his special assignment just happens to be the one he's picked to have an affair with for the remaining length of the semester. He thinks he's being sly about it, but girls talk. It's become common knowledge not just among his English students, but pretty much anyone who's heard his name."

  "If girls talk so freely, how have they kept it a secret from his wife, Deborah, or the school authorities?" Kat asked. "His wife works on campus as well, actually she's a dean, and I would think that his students and her students would interact enough that her students would know."

  "Mom, I have no idea why his wife hasn't found out about it. I guess none of the students wants to be the person who gives him away. The arrangement is usually a pretty good deal for the girls, which may be another reason his wife hasn't learned about it. The girl always gets an A in the class without having to work very hard for it, if you know what I mean. A lot of them are perfectly happy to make the sacrifice and keep the secret.

  "And really, it's not that much of a sacrifice if you think about it, Mom. Professor White may be a lot older than his students are, but he's super handsome and smart, and he has a great sense of humor. If he weren't known to be such a creep, he'd be a lot of fun to be around."

  "I'm glad you think he's a creep, and I'm thankful you've kept out of his clutches," Kat said. "He sounds far too friendly with his female students for my liking. Between you and me, that man is about to get himself in a world of trouble."

  "Well, based on his past conduct, I'm sure it had to be only a matter of time until someone blew the whistle on him, but from what I hear, he's managed to do it for a number of years, and hasn't gotten caught. Listen, Mom, I have to run. I'm meeting a study group in ten minutes to prep for a test in the morning. Tell Blaine hi for me."

  "Will do, sweetie. Thanks for calling. It's always great to hear your voice."

  After the two women had ended the call, Kat brought Jazz and Rudy inside and went upstairs to write for a couple of hours. When she'd reached a good stopping point in the story she was crafting, she headed back downstairs to the kitchen and started assembling the ingredients she needed for the gourmet dinner she was planning for Blaine.

  CHAPTER 8

  Kat had chopped the vegetables for the salad, seared the steaks, and was finishing the sauce when she heard Blaine pull into the garage. Jazz and Rudy dashed out of the kitchen to greet him. They'd been hovering near Kat hoping that some tidbits from her cooking would land on the floor. Kat quickly wiped her hands on a dish towel and removed her apron, but before she could walk out to the garage, Blaine came into the kitchen with Jazz and Rudy following right behind him.

  "Wow, it smells heavenly in here," Blaine said, wrapping his arms around Kat and kissing her softly. "The food smells pretty good, too."

  Kat laughed and threw her arms around him. "I've missed you today," she said, returning his kiss.

  Blaine eyed the makings of the feast Kat had prepared for their evening meal. "From the looks of dinner, you've been keeping yourself busy this afternoon."

  "I wanted you to come home to something special," Kat said. "We didn't get to spend much time together while you were working on the case against Cameron Baker, so I thought tonight we could have a leisurely evening together."

  "That sounds great. I'm looking forward to it. Let me change clothes, and I'll join you shortly." Blaine kissed her once more before he released her from his arms and headed upstairs.

  While Blaine was changing, Kat set the table and plated the food. Blaine walked back in just as she was taking a fresh loaf of sourdough bread out of the oven.

  "Really, my love, you've outdone yourself," Blaine said, surveying the food on his plate which consisted of steak Diane, a colorful bowl of salad, a baked potato with all the trimmings, and steaming hot bread.

  "You're worth it," Kat said with a wink. "I also opened a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. It's over there on the counter. Would you mind pouring us each a glass?"

  The two of them sat down in their chairs at the table and clinked their wine glasses together in a toast.

  "How were things at the office today?" Kat asked, swirling her glass and inhaling the earthy scent of the red wine.

  "After Ryan and I talked about our upcoming cases, we spent most of the rest of the day preparing for a trial that's about ready to start. It's a white-collar crime in which a local banker has been ripping off some of Lindsay's elderly population and stealing their retirement savings," Blaine answered with a frown.

  "I think we have a good case against him, but unfortunately that doesn't mean that everyone will get their money back. I'm giving Ryan the lead on the case. When Judge Dickerson berated him during the Cameron Baker trial for being incompetent, it was a serious blow to his self-confidence. I'm hoping a win on this one will help to restore it."

  "I don't see why Ryan took it so hard. The judge's accusations against him were completely unfounded. In the end it became quite clear that Judge Dickerson's tirade was simply an attempt by him to hide his internet pornography addiction. Who knew that Ryan would have struck a nerve when he mentioned internet pornography in his opening statement?"

  Blaine cut into his tender steak, which was pink in the middle. "You know that, and I know that, and I think deep down Ryan knows that, but he's had to deal with the fact that a lot of people heard what the judge said and likewise knew that the judge had removed him from the case. I'm sure every attorney in this county knows about it. Anyway, this next trial will give him an opportunity to really shine and to show this town, as well as the lawyers in the county, that he's as talented as I know he is. But what about you? What have you been up to today?"

  While Blaine continued to eat his steak, Kat recounted how she'd resumed writing her latest book before her hair appointment and then she'd had lunch at the country club.

  "Who'd you have lunch with?" asked Blaine.

  "Deborah White, the professor at the university I met with about pornography addiction during the Judge Dickerson debacle," Kat answered. "Both Susie at the salon and then Deborah herself dished to me that Deborah's husband, Geoffrey, has been having an affair with one of his students, a young woman named Courtney Adams."

  To Kat's chagrin, she started to cry.

  "Kat, what is it? What's wrong?" Blaine asked as he stood up from the table and quickly walked around to where she was sitting. He put his arms around her, and at the same time pushed her chin up so she was eye to eye with him. "Are you all right?"

  "Oh, Blaine, I'm sorry for blubbering. It's just that I was talking to Lacie this afternoon, and she told me she'd been approached by Geoffrey White, and she was lucky to escape with her virginity intact. Apparently, he's been doing this kind of thing every semester for years, and its common knowledge among the students. When I think of what could have happened to Lacie, I feel sick to my stomach. He's a despicable predator taking advantage of vulnerable young women."

  "I don't blame you, honey," Blaine said, rubbing her back. "If he ever touched Lacie, I think I could understand for the first time why some people commit murder. The idea of some middle-aged man using his position as a professor to seduce young college girls makes me furious. And to think it could have been Lacie. She may not be my biological daughter, but I couldn't love her any more if she were. So help me, if I ever found out that sleaze ball had laid a hand on her..."

  "Well, fortunately he didn't," Kat interrupted, drying her tears, "but I'm with you. I'm not real proud of it, but while I was talking to her I felt like going in the
other room and getting the gun Greg bought for me, and that's a pretty sick thought."

  "Well, if it's any consolation, I had the same thought." Blaine returned to his seat and reached across the table for Kat's hand. "Mine's in the bedroom. As you know, district attorneys have their share of nut cases who want to take a pot shot at them, so I always have mine with me when I leave the house. The thought did cross my mind that maybe I should go and get it. If you'd told me something had happened between Lacie and him, I very well might have. Anyway, when and how did Deborah discover her sicko husband's indiscretion?"

  "Today. Can you believe it? She'd hired a private investigator, and she got the news literally as I walked in the front door of the country club."

  "Nice timing, Kat. What do you think she'll do now that she knows?"

  "I have no idea, and I don't think she does either. The Whites have been married such a long time, I hope they'll get some marriage counseling, and Geoffrey will recommit to his marriage. Deborah told me they've known each other since their first day in college, and they've been married for twenty years. She also said what was ironic is that's what she does in her private practice, giving people advice on matters related to sexual behavior. Now she finds herself in that very predicament."

  "That's a long life together to throw away for an illicit fling or flings. I feel sorry for her," Blaine said. "Well, my love, thank you again for this amazing meal. I think I'll pass on dessert, if you don't mind. I'm thinking I'll head to bed a bit early tonight. I need to be at the office bright and early to get Ryan ready for the trial I mentioned."

  "Sure, go ahead. I'll probably try writing a chapter or two before I turn in for the night."

  Blaine and Kat stood up from the table and carried their dishes to the counter next to the sink. "Go to bed. I'll take care of the dishes," Kat said.

  Blaine turned to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Don't stay up too late. Save some of Sexy Cissy's romance for me."

  "I'll never run out of romance for you, Blaine," she said, as she kissed him goodnight.

  CHAPTER 9

  After her lunch with Kat, Deborah White drove back to the university campus feeling shaky and out of sorts. Her mind was spinning with images of her husband, Geoffrey, running around clandestinely with a female student less than half his age. Every time she remembered the words the private investigator had said to her on the phone, she was overcome with both a blinding rage and a deep sadness.

  She had no idea what she was going to do or say to Geoffrey when they met at home that evening, but she knew she had to tell him what she'd found out. Secrets didn't come naturally to Deborah, unlike her errant husband, or so it seemed.

  She presented her afternoon lecture on autopilot, reciting a lesson she'd taught hundreds of times before to her students. The rest of her appointments and meetings that afternoon went by in a blur, and then finally it was time for her to go home. All she wanted to do was be alone.

  Deborah knew Geoffrey wouldn't be home for about another hour, so she had some time to compose herself and think through the best way to approach the issue with him. She changed clothes and began preparing a light supper of roast chicken and vegetables. When Geoffrey arrived and saw a table set for a nice meal, he'd likely assume they were going to enjoy a routine quiet evening at home together.

  She'd just finished prepping dinner and was resting on the living room couch idly skimming through Vogue magazine when Geoffrey walked into the room. She looked at him as he walked in, taking in the sight of his face and physique, as if for the first time in a long time. Despite some greying around his temples and a few crow's feet around his eyes, he was still as ruggedly handsome as the day she'd first met him in an undergraduate lecture hall so many years ago. Her attraction to him had never waned, even if they were intimate far less frequently than when they had first known one another. Deborah had never considered that to be a problem, but now she questioned herself.

  Where had their marriage gone wrong? How had they drifted so far apart that he was having an affair with one of his students? And worse, that Deborah had no idea he was having one? She watched him set his briefcase down on the desk across the room that he often used for grading student papers that he brought home. He casually walked across the room towards where she was sitting, a smile plastered across his face.

  Geoffrey's greeting interrupted her thoughts. "Hi, honey, how'd your day go today?" he asked, bending down and kissing Deborah on the forehead.

  "More or less like any other day, I suppose," she responded. She feigned a smile. "Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes."

  "That sounds great. How about some wine, or better yet, champagne? Our latest shipment from the wine society arrived yesterday, and the French champagne should be nice and chilled by now," suggested Geoffrey, with a casual grin. "Let's start our evening with a toast."

  "Are we celebrating something?" she asked, trying to keep the anger she felt out of her voice. She felt cynical about toasting a man who was cheating on her and acting as if nothing was wrong. For some reason she had the fleeting thought of the Middle English term for a woman whose husband had cheated on her. She guessed she could now officially be called a cuckquean, as opposed to male cuckold.

  Geoffrey cocked an eyebrow. "We never need a reason to crack open a bottle of wine, do we?"

  He walked into the adjacent dining room toward a chest of drawers where they stored their wine accessories. Geoffrey and Deborah had been wine aficionados since they were legally old enough to buy alcohol. Among their accessories, they owned a full complement of wine glasses for every type of wine, decanters of all shapes and sizes, and a variety of corkscrews and wine openers.

  Geoffrey's favorite accessory, however, was a wine saber that had been gifted to him by a member of the prestigious wine society to which he and Deborah both belonged. The society was an exclusive, invitation-only type of organization headquartered in California's Russian River Valley that sponsored numerous events throughout the year. He and Deborah frequently traveled to California to attend as many events as they could.

  Geoffrey pulled out a pale pine box from a large drawer and opened the lid. Inside was what looked like a miniature cavalry sword, a curved stainless-steel blade nearly sixteen inches long with a brass handle that had a gold braided tassel tied to the guard.

  As she watched Geoffrey remove the saber from the box, Deborah wondered what he was feeling so enthusiastic about. Sabering champagne bottles was usually a trick Geoffrey saved for parties and dinner guests. Had he been with his mistress earlier? Was he daring to come home feeling excited about his conquest of today, so much so that he wanted to celebrate the occasion over dinner with his wife? Deborah wasn't quite ready to bring up what she'd found out from the private investigator, so she kept quiet.

  "Let's do this in the backyard, shall we?" Geoffrey said, heading for the fridge to pull out the bottle of French champagne.

  Reluctantly, Deborah got up from the couch, pulled out two champagne flutes from the dining room cabinet, and joined him on the back patio. It was already dark out, and she shivered standing next to Geoffrey. He lined up the back of the saber blade along the seam of the wine bottle. He put the champagne bottle on the patio table, ran the saber along the seam in one swift motion, and sent the cork and neck of the bottle flying twenty feet into the yard. Deborah held the glasses out to catch the foaming wine as it gushed out of the bottle.

  "Here's to us and our spring break trip to the wine country," he said, clinking his glass with hers.

  They went back inside and settled into their seats at the dining room table, discussing the plans they'd made to visit various wineries in Northern California during their next spring break. Deborah wondered whether they'd still be together by then, but it wasn't until the meal had concluded that she finally got up the nerve to initiate the conversation she'd been dreading ever since she'd talked to the private investigator.

  "Geoff, we need to talk about something," Deborah said
in a somber voice. She finished placing the dishes in the dishwasher and turned around so she could look him straight in the face.

  She thought Geoffrey's cheeks drained a bit of color, but he composed himself with a smile. "Sure, honey, what's on your mind?"

  Deborah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She held her gaze steady, her eyes never wavering from his as she spoke. "When I was going through your clothes to take to the cleaners, I found something in one of your pockets. It was a credit card receipt for a motel south of town."

  A flicker of something crossed Geoffrey's face before he recovered. "Oh, that was likely for an offsite faculty meeting...," Geoffrey began, but Deborah cut him off before he could finish making an excuse she already knew was a lie.

  "What do you take me for?" Her voice was raised. "Do you think I'm some kind of idiot? You and I both know faculty meetings are never held off campus, Geoffrey, so don't try and give me that nonsense." Feeling empowered, she took a step closer to the man who had vowed to love her "til death do us part." Now, he was a stranger to her.

  "I hired a private investigator to find out if my hunch was right. The investigator called me back today and confirmed he had ample evidence you've been having an affair with one of your students, a young woman named Courtney Adams."

  Geoffrey's face fell and his shoulders drooped. If Deborah had been holding out any hope that maybe the private investigator had made a mistake, and someone else was having an affair with Courtney Adams, her husband's body language was all the confession she needed.

  "Geoffrey, how could you!" she cried, stepping backwards again until she reached the kitchen counter where she slumped and buried her face in her hands.

  "Babe, I'm so sorry, really, I never meant to hurt you," he said, walking towards her with his arms outstretched.