by JA Huss
I get a scowl from this and that makes me smile because I know she has no plans.
“Do you have something you’d like to discuss with me, Agent?” She stops walking. The rain is dripping down the sides of her black umbrella, and I’m well on my way to soaked. “Because I already told you what I know and I’ve got nothing to add.”
“Well,” I say, lowering my voice to something just above a whisper, “I’ve got some news.” I clear my throat to give her time to react, but she is passive and still. “There’s been some buzz in the Agency that Nick Tate might be planning a trip to the US.”
She shifts from one foot to the next, like she’s anxious to get away from me. “I’m not sure what that has to do with me.”
“I think he’s coming to see you. And quite honestly, I’m worried about it.” I frown to illustrate my concern. “You’re locked up tight in that house of yours, but you walk to school. Maybe you can let me drive you from now on?”
She shakes her head and starts walking again. “No, thank you.”
I walk alongside her until we get to the corner and have to cross the street. We let a car pass and then step off the curb together. “I’d make it worth your while.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She walks faster now. School is only two blocks away, and we’re not very far from the museum where she has her tiny grad school office. I glance over my shoulder and see one of the students Madrid has placed on Sasha, and give him a nod. He drops back into a crowd of girls and lets them pass.
I only have a few minutes to make my move. “I’ve just noticed you’re not very social. No boyfriend, no dates, not even a girls’ night out. Nothing on your calendar the entire semester. And I get it. You’re not one of those pretty, popular girls—”
“Excuse me?” She huffs out a laugh.
“—so I thought you could use a date.”
Now she lets off a guffaw. “Wow, that was a pretty pathetic way to ask a girl on a date. And even though I might appear hard up and undesirable, I’m going to have to pass on that.”
I take her arm, gently, not wanting to startle her. Something tells me a startled Sasha is a bad thing. I lean into her space. She smells like shampoo and flowers. “Miss Aston, I’m not saying you’re undesirable at all. I’m just saying you could use a night off.”
She looks down at my hand on her arm and I remove it, but when her blue eyes meet mine, I feel a little wave of apprehension. “I said no, thank you.”
She starts walking again. I let her get a few paces ahead, so she can wonder if I will pursue, and once she shoots that glance over her shoulder I jog a little to catch up. “OK,” I say calmly. “But everyone needs to have some fun, Sasha. And I’ve been on this boring job for months. I’d like to have some fun.”
“Agents don’t have fun with suspects.” She laughs.
I like the sound of that laugh. It was real and this girl is so serious. I had started wondering how deep her unhappiness runs. “I told you months ago, you’re not a suspect. We just want to work with you.”
“Agents don’t have fun with prospective agents, either.”
“Since when?” I chuckle.
“So date Madrid if you need to get laid. I’ll let her spies know that you’re interested. She’s pretty, but I doubt she’s getting much action the way she’s all over me.”
“Madrid isn’t even in town.” She is, but she’s behind the scenes. Only watching from remote locations. “Besides, she’s not my type.”
“So what’s your type?”
“Ah, I knew you were interested.” I take her arm and wrap it in mine as we walk. She tries to pull away, but it’s a half-hearted attempt at best. So I grab hold with my other hand. “Madrid is all sorts of tough, you know? Those women who have a chip on their shoulder. They work a man’s job and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! You did not just say that.” She stops again, and by this time I’m good and wet. Rain is dripping down my face. But this is a reaction I can work with. “So she’s a bitch, is that what you’re saying?” A snort from Sasha at that. “She’s serious and goal-oriented, so that makes her tough. Well, I have news for you, Agent Jax, I’m not a soft girl either, so I have no idea what you’re talking about when you say I’m your type.”
We’re at the corner of the last street we need to cross before we get on campus and Sasha pushes the walk button repeatedly.
“You seem soft to me.” I say it in a low voice again. This makes her stiffen a little. “And I’m not disparaging Madrid. I don’t know her very well, actually. I just don’t like career women.”
“Oh my God,” Sasha says, shaking her head. Another student standing at the light with us shoots me a disgusted look. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a career woman.”
“Ah,” I say, waving my hand at her just as the walk light illuminates. We head across the street with her once again struggling to free herself from my arm, but I hold onto her tightly. “You’re not, Sasha. you’re playing at it. Dabbling. You’re filthy rich, you have a thing for dinosaurs, I guess. So you figured you’d waste some time at school because you don’t know what else to do with yourself. Nick left you behind. You never got over it. And so you spend your days immersed in science labs and boring lectures. You stay away from men and friends because you can’t relate. And maybe Nick isn’t coming back. You think about it all the time, don’t you? Are you saving yourself for him?”
“I’d slap the shit out of him,” the girl in front says over her shoulder. “Punch him in the face.”
“Hey,” I bark at the feminist. “This is private.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be saying that shit in public,” she retorts before veering away from us.
Sasha finally tugs her arm from my grasp and starts walking fast towards the museum. We are steps away and I’m not sure my approach is working yet. I did get her to talk, but it’s not enough. I need movement on this case and I need it today. So I jog to catch up and then get ahead of her so I can open the door.
She rolls her eyes at me, but she steps through, folding up her umbrella. I follow her in as she makes her way to the stairs. “What are you doing?” she asks in a hushed, but angry, whisper. There’s no one in here. The museum isn’t normally busy this early in the morning and there’s no classrooms in here. Just the grad school offices on the third floor. “Go away. I’m at work. I’m pretty sure agents are not allowed to harass upstanding citizens at work for no reason.”
The stairs are not enclosed. The building is old and elaborate with dark hardwood banisters and marble steps. But it is a little dark in this area since there are no windows. She takes the steps two at a time but when she gets to the landing between the first and second floors, I grab her hand and pull her close for a moment. “I think that girl was right. We need some privacy.”
“Agent Jax,” Sasha growls. “I’m not interested in your offer, your work, or your interest in me. And if you touch me again”—she pulls her arm away a final time—”I will break all your fingers.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “OK, look. I heard some news, I said. And I think he’s about to make his move. I don’t think you’re safe.”
“I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, Agent.” She says it with determination as she unbuttons her raincoat, but I catch a moment of doubt in her eyes. It throws me for a second. Because I know she’s quite capable. If I had to bet which of us was more capable, I’d put my money on her. So this is interesting. “I don’t need you to protect me, I have not heard from Nick Tate in ten years, and I have no interest in a—”
I cup my wet hands around her face and kiss her.
She drops her umbrella and struggles for a moment, but when my tongue slips between her lips, she stops. Not quite giving in—her hands are gripping my biceps as I play with her mouth—but she doesn’t pull away. I push her backwards until she bumps up against the wall, pressing my wet clothes into her open coat. And I slide one hand behind her neck to draw her closer while the o
ther one fists her hair.
Her tongue responds, twisting together with mine. Her chest begins to rise and fall more rapidly, and then she is panting in my mouth. Fuck.
I pull back and release her hair so I can palm her cheek. I slip my thumb up to her lips and she actually moans. And when I try to slip my thumb into her mouth, she opens for me.
Good God.
I stare down at her as she looks up at me. My hair is dripping water down her face, but she stays absolutely still. “I want to take you out tonight, Miss Cherlin.” She swallows when I call her by her real name. “I’m not taking no for an answer. So I’ll pick you up at eight.”
And then I kiss her again—this time no tongue—and turn away to jump down the stairs.
When I get to the bottom I turn around. “Hey,” I call up to her. She’s still backed up against the wall, her mouth open from the kiss. It makes me grin to see her so caught off guard.
“What?” she whispers, her hand reaching towards her heart.
I hold up both hands, palms out, and laugh. “I’ve still got all ten fingers, killer. Looks like you’ve lost your game.” And then I drop the smile and give her a stern look that makes her face scrunch up. “If we hire you to help us, you’re gonna wanna get that game back, understand?”
I don’t wait for an answer, just turn and walk away. Out of her line of sight from the stairs, and then out of the building. It’s still raining outside, but the only wet thing on my mind right now is that girl’s mouth.
Chapter Six - Sasha
“Who the…”
That asshole. He walks away before I can finish my sentence.
Pick me up at eight. Work for them. Asshole.
“Hey, Sasha,” Mike, my office-mate, says as he walks up the stairs. He stops on the landing in front of me. “What are you doing?”
I let out a breath and mutter, “Nothing.”
“You OK? You sound stressed. And your face is all wet. Didn’t you use your umbrella?” He looks down at it on the floor. “You never get stressed. So the world must be upside down right now.”
I paint on my trademark smile. “I’m fine, just thinking about my orals today. How about you? Are you ready for them?”
“I took mine yesterday.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I’m skipping town for winter break, going to see some family in Europe, so they let me take them early.”
I pick up my umbrella and we start walking up the stairs towards our office on the top floor. “How’d you do?”
“Passed.” He grins. Mike is average-looking in all ways but one—that smile. He’s got a nice smile and I’ve been lucky to be sharing an office with someone so upbeat for two years. “So I get to spend all next semester interning for Professor Ling in Montana.”
“That’s wonderful!” I say it enthusiastically, but I’m ready to explode with jealousy. I wanted that internship. I figured I had it in the bag.
“You’re not mad, are you? That I got it?”
“Oh, no,” I say, patting him on the shoulder like friends do. “Congrats, really. You deserve it.”
“Thanks. I know you’ll get a good one too. Probably that dig site in Utah everyone’s been scrambling for.”
We get to the office door and I throw my bag down on my desk and start pulling out my computer. I have some last-minute work to get my class grades in on time, and then the rest of the day is going over notes for the oral examination later this afternoon. “Yeah, one can hope.” I smile at him, and then his phone rings and his face lights up. Must be his girlfriend. He walks out of the office, chatting happily about his promising future.
I drop into my crappy desk chair and despair over mine.
And then I remember Agent Jax and my anger is back. Kissed me! Said we’re going on a date tonight! Said I lost my game!
I have game, dammit. I’ve got more game than anyone. I’m like a game master. I just stopped playing a long time ago. That game ended and this one began. I’m in a new game.
The only problem with this new game is that I’m really not a VIP player. And it sucks to admit it, but grad school is not as easy as my mom made it sound. She got a master’s in psychology. In a foreign country, for fuck’s sake. Speaking a whole other language.
But I’m here in the US, speaking English, and everything I do seems to be average.
I sigh. This has been my life for two years. I like teaching. I like the dig sites I get to go to in the summer and over breaks. But I don’t have an internship lined up for this break. In fact, this is the first year in a very long time that I won’t be off doing something over Christmas. Usually I go with my parents to New Zealand and we stay for a few weeks if I don’t have academic plans.
And now I’ve got nothing, because they aren’t going to New Zealand this year. The show my dad was producing ended last spring. They’re not even staying home, so I can’t go visit. They’re taking my little genius of a brother, Five, to look at colleges. He’s ten. Ten, for fuck’s sake. And he’s probably gonna have that PhD before I do.
“Ugh.” I pull up my faculty account and start checking messages before I get started. Professor Brown wants to see me in her office at three. Probably to give me encouragement before my orals. Other than that, I’ve got nothing. Finals for undergrads ended last week, so the campus is nearly dead. Only us lowly grad students and work-study people are left.
I get busy on finalizing the grades for my classes. Mike comes back and does the same, interrupted by many, many, many annoying calls from fellow students and faculty members congratulating him on his success.
I’m happy for him. He’s a total anthropology nerd. He deserves all this, he really does.
But I’m jealous. I can’t help it. I’m a nerd. I like anthropology. I love dinosaurs more. But you can’t major in dinosaurs. That was a real bummer when I figured that out. Which is why I got a practical undergraduate degree in geological engineering. I figured that would look really good on a resume. Especially coming from The School of Mines.
But I was wrong about that. Mike has a BS in human evolution. That’s the ticket to anthropology success. Because no one cares about dinosaurs. No one over the age of twelve, anyway. They all go fangirl over human shit.
I could spend my whole life with ancient reptile bones and be happy. But those internships are few and far between. That one I had last summer in Peru was the only thing scheduled for years.
I sigh. Which is why I will be spending this Christmas alone. Shut up in my fortress. Trying to forget about my past and be hopeful about my future.
But I don’t feel very hopeful right now. And I know it’s just nerves before my orals. I can’t wait for those to be over. Once I finish those, I will officially start my research.
Only a few more years, Sasha, I tell myself. Then you can go forth and conquer your passion for dinosaurs with academic support.
It seems so far away though.
“Ugh.” Back to work. I finish up the final grades for my class, send them to the registrar’s office, and then pack my stuff up to go see Professor Brown.
The temperature has dropped since I came in this morning, and the rain is just starting to turn to sleet when I open my umbrella and head out the door. Professor Brown’s office is a few buildings over, so I jog there, trying not to slip in the slush that has accumulated over the day. When I finally pull open the door of the administrative offices, my stomach does all kinds of tumbling. Orals are a big deal. It’s normal to be nervous. Once this is over I will feel so much better. I can start planning my research and really begin moving towards this goal I’ve had since I was a kid.
Professor Brown’s door is open when I get there. I knock politely, just to let her know I’m coming in. “Hey!” I say, cheerfully.
“Sasha.” She smiles. She’s only in her mid-forties, so she is beautiful in a way that says sophisticated and smart. Her blonde hair is styled into a fashionable bob, her makeup is perfect but not overdone, and her eyes are always bright w
ith wonder about the world around her. She’s brilliant and I’m very lucky she agreed to mentor me. “Come in and close the door behind you.”
“Ut-oh,” I laugh, closing the door as she asked. “I feel like I’m in trouble.” I say it jokingly, but when I turn to take a seat in front of her large mahogany desk, she has a frown on her face. “What?” My anxiety starts creeping out.
She takes off her glasses and that’s when I realize I really am in trouble. “Sasha, we’ve cancelled your orals for today. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but I thought this was a conversation that deserved a face-to-face meeting.”
“What?” Oh my God. What’s happening?
“We don’t think you’re ready to commit to your candidacy. You are a smart girl…”
It goes on like that for twenty minutes. I feel the sting of tears. She comforts me. Tells me I’m brilliant. But if I was brilliant, then why are they insisting I take a semester off?
I walk out of her office stunned.
I’ve been ordered to think about my future. What do I really want out of this degree? Why do I want this degree?
What the hell?
Why the fuck does she think I want this degree? I want to study bones! It’s not rocket science! You need a PhD to get grants, and dig sites, and authorization from local governments. You need academic backing and to get backing you have to have a degree!
Of course, I didn’t say that. I told her what she wanted me to say. That I have a passion for anthropology. And it’s a not a lie. I like it. But it’s just a stepping stone to dinosaurs.
I stopped mentioning dinosaurs years ago once I figured out no one would take me seriously. So yeah, this program is not about dinosaurs. This program is about all kinds of old stuff. Fossils and human evolution and all that shit. What I’m doing is not so out of the ordinary. People use degrees to get other places all the time.
