by Blaire Drake
I’d have nothing.
Dear Professor, we’ve got this, right? Right. Xoxo, Darcy.
My summons had come early. The e-mail had been glaring back at me from the top corner of my phone screen when I’d killed my alarm this morning.
Now, I was standing outside the university director’s office with my heart in my throat, my stomach hurting, and my hands trembling.
I was terrified.
Although I had always known that my life choices since coming to Chicago could have ended up in this way, I hadn’t thought they actually would.
How naïve of me.
The door opened, and Dr. Lewellyn appeared in the space.
“Miss Hamilton?”
“Yes, sir.” I took his offered hand.
“Please come in and take a seat.”
Blood thundered through my body, and my heart beat so hard that it was painful. I walked into his large office and perched on the edge of a leather chair. I couldn’t describe how I was feeling, except for sick. I was just sick.
The door closed, and I briefly shut my eyes as the finality of that sound seeped into my skin. Dr. Lewellyn took his sweet-ass time walking around his desk and sitting down. When he finally did, he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Help me out here, Miss Hamilton,” he said in a gravelly tone. “I’ve been over and over your records for the past two hours, and I can’t find a single thing that enlightens me as to how you managed to get yourself into this situation.”
“Well. I…um…” I sighed heavily and looked at my hands. “I have a somewhat…unorthodox, but entirely legal, way of funding myself through college. Sir.”
“I think I can imagine without any further details.” He set his glasses down and peered at me with steely, gray eyes. “But that doesn’t explain to me how you got into a relationship with Dr. Keaton. It is, of course, against university policy, not least the law.”
I didn’t know what to say. When Jordan had said that he’d handle it, then I’d assumed we’d be here together. He wasn’t, and since I had no idea of his plan, there was nothing I could do. I dropped my eyes once more and flicked my thumbnails against each other.
I didn’t want to get him into any more trouble than he was going to be in, but I also wanted to get myself out of it. The two were warring inside me, and I couldn’t think for a second which one was the strongest desire.
Three knocks at the door echoed through the room.
Dr. Lewellyn looked up. “Come in.”
I turned my head as the door opened. I didn’t need to—I felt him the moment he stepped into the room.
“Dr. Lewellyn,” Jordan greeted him. “Miss Hamilton.”
“Professor,” I said softly, focused on a spot on the carpet. It was slightly lighter than the rest, like something had been spilled and bleach used to clean it up.
“Take a seat, Dr. Keaton,” Dr. Lewellyn told him. “I’d like to get to the bottom of this before I make any immediate decisions. The cat seems to have his claws in Miss Hamilton’s tongue, so perhaps you can help me.”
“Of course.” Jordan took the seat next to mine. “Sir, I need you to understand that I am solely responsible for the commencement of this relationship.”
I snapped my head up.
“Was it not consensual?” Dr. Lewellyn looked between us.
“Yes, it was,” I answered.
“I pursued Miss Hamilton,” Jordan continued. “It was with a great deal of coercion and a force I’m not proud of using that she agreed to this.”
I stared at him. What was he doing?
“I had information about her she preferred not be spilled.”
“You blackmailed her?” Dr. Lewellyn queried, his eyebrows raised.
“Yes, sir.”
“Miss Hamilton? Is this true?”
Jordan’s eyes were brighter than usual—they were like beacons, and they were imploring me to agree with him.
I understood.
He was crucifying himself to protect me. Screwing his whole life so that I still had mine.
“Yes,” I whispered, holding my breath. “But I consented to everything that happened between us, including the relationship.”
“Would it have happened had Dr. Keaton not been privy to personal information?”
“I can’t answer that, sir.”
“Try.”
“Probably not. I hated his damn guts this time last month.”
Jordan’s lips twitched into a half smile.
“Sorry. That was a little blunter than I’d have liked.” I grimaced, my cheeks flushing.
Dr. Lewellyn coughed. “Your honesty is…appreciated, Miss Hamilton.” He scratched his nose. “So, to summarize, Dr. Keaton, you initiated the relationship via blackmail, forcing Miss Hamilton to agree. But, Miss Hamilton, you say you consented to everything from the start.”
I nodded, averting my eyes again.
He sighed. I heard the helplessness as it reverberated through the air.
“I’m trying very hard to think of a way in which this can be resolved with minimal damage to reputations, but I’m struggling.”
“Dr. Lewellyn,” Jordan started, leaning forward. “My reputation precedes itself. With all due respect, it could probably do with a bit of a blemish. I might get a few less e-mails being asked for private consultations on rusty spoons people’s children buried when they were three.”
My downward gaze hid my smile.
“This situation is all on me. I will offer you my resignation now, starting immediately, if Miss Hamilton’s reputation can be saved. She is, after all, the innocent party.”
Once again, I snapped my eyes up. This was his other great plan? Take the blame and resign? Was he insane?
And innocent my ass. The man had a video I’d sent him of me shoving a vibrator inside my vagina, for goodness’ sake.
Dr. Lewellyn pinched the bridge of his nose once more. “I need to think about this situation in more detail. Miss Hamilton, I’d prefer not to make any rash decisions regarding your future here or, indeed, at whichever law school you may be accepted to. Your grades are exceptional, so you will be suspended for the rest of the week, effective immediately.”
I nodded. “Of course, sir.”
“Dr. Keaton, your resignation is accepted. This will also be effective immediately. I appreciate your heroics, but if you didn’t offer a resignation, you would be fired.”
“Understandably.”
“The resignation will, perhaps, allow you to retain a shred of dignity when leaving this establishment.”
“Thank you, Dr. Lewellyn. I appreciate that.”
He nodded and faced me again. “You will be contacted for a meeting first thing on Monday morning. Please be ready. I will take Dr. Keaton’s words into consideration while I make my decision.”
“Thank you, sir,” I responded softly.
“You’re both free to leave. Dr. Keaton, your classes will be canceled today. Please clear out your office.”
“Absolutely.” Jordan stood, shook Dr. Lewellyn’s hand, and headed for the door.
I kept my head down as I scooted through the open door and down the hall. I didn’t even think about him being behind me. As thankful as I was that he was trying to do what was best for me, I was angry at him.
Yes, he’d initiated this. Yes, he’d backed me into a corner.
But I’d still agreed.
I’d still agreed to every single thing that happened between us.
There was no way I should have gotten away with that. Surely, I had to pay the price for my part? It didn’t seem possible that my squeaky-clean school record and his admission would get me through this. It seemed too good to be true.
I pushed the main doors open and breathed in the fresh air. It’d started raining at some point during the meeting, and the relief the cold water droplets gave me as they hit my face was welcome. I stood there in the pouring rain until I was soaked through, waiting to hear his voice or f
eel his hand on my back, his lips on my ear, his fingertips on my arm.
But none of it happened.
Jordan hadn’t followed me out of the building.
Jordan closed his office door with more composure than he felt. Although he’d known that it was coming—after all, it had been his grand plan to try to protect Darcy—it still stung. He’d come to love his job at the university. All he had now was the hope that his plan had worked. That Darcy would come out of this situation relatively unscathed.
He’d had to try. He’d put her in this situation, after all.
He’d thought that that would make him hate himself, but for the first time in a long time, he realized he didn’t. He felt guilty, sure. Maybe even a little regretful. But not hateful.
It was the strangest feeling.
He pulled two flat, cardboard boxes from his office storage. He’d even been prepared for his dismissal, something that had been, of course, avoided due to his resignation.
Better to have resigned than have a firing blot his record. He would have taken the firing if he’d had to, but he was thankful not to.
He looked out of his office in time to see Darcy’s little, black Hyundai pulling out of its parking space. He didn’t know if she knew, but her favorite area to park in had always been right behind his office. He’d seen her come and go more times than he wanted to admit.
She was mad at him.
He had seen it in her eyes when she’d glanced at him before she’d gotten up. She was angry he’d taken all of the blame when she could have shouldered some. That was the kind of person she was deep down. On the surface, she was hard and protective of herself, but once her defenses had been broken down, she was the sweetest woman he’d ever met.
He hoped she understood. She was smart enough to.
More than anything, he hoped he wouldn’t lose her.
She’d imprinted herself onto his life in a way he’d never thought anyone else would again. She’d opened his heart back up to the possibility of happiness that didn’t involve loneliness, and he was afraid that, with this new development, it’d be all over.
’Cause fuck it all—he was falling for her.
His phone rang, and he put the photo frame he was holding down. Briefly, he paused. It was a picture of him and Amanda on their wedding day. Her smile was so bright, so light and airy, before her addiction had fully taken hold.
He stared at it for what felt like an eternity before a smile touched his lips.
Darcy would never be Amanda; that was okay. No one could ever replace his first love, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t room for more than one woman in his heart. He didn’t want anyone to be Amanda. The years they’d been married and he’d battled as she’d fought with her demons had changed him irrevocably.
He didn’t want that again. He didn’t want to feel the constant worry that accompanied the mood swings, the dip in the savings he’d thought he’d hidden better, or the constant dance to hide the car keys. He was only happy that Amanda was at peace, because that’s what she’d given him.
Peace.
He just needed Darcy to see it. Not someone like her, exactly her. He needed Darcy to scale the walls he’d built and break through the army he had guarding his heart.
He needed Darcy, and he wasn’t ashamed of that.
It was a clouds-opening-to-let-the-sunlight-in-epiphany kind of moment, one that solidified that he’d made all the right choices, despite the outcome from them.
He had hope that all would be okay in the end.
His phone ticked over the answering machine, and the familiar, British-accented voice of his old friend and colleague, Stan Rosenbaum, filled his office.
“Jordan, sorry to miss you, old friend. I was calling to let you know that one of the gentlemen signed up for the UK trip in three weeks has had to step back. I know you asked before you got the job there in Chicago. There have been some minor discoveries about the sixteenth century, particularly in Wales, that might be of interest to you. It’s a long shot, but you’re welcome to join us. I can give you a few days for a decision. Give me a ring on…” He trailed off, leaving his number.
Jordan stilled. His eyes cut to the phone.
What was that they said about one door closing for another to open?
The thought of traveling again brought a smile to his lips—and perhaps this was for the best.
But it wasn’t just him he had to think about now. And, for once, he didn’t find himself minding that at all.
I pulled my covers up higher. Ever since I’d returned to Dalton House yesterday, my emotions had ranged from downright pissed off to some pretty severe self-loathing.
My entire future was hanging in the balance, and in essence, I only had myself to blame for it.
While there was a good deal of responsibility in Jordan’s court, I had to accept that the majority of it would have been shouldered by me. After all, if I’d never become a cam girl in the first place, he never would have had grounds to blackmail me.
God, it was such an ugly word. Blackmail. I hated it. I hated that whatever it was we had would always be blighted by how our relationship had begun.
Well, perhaps blighted was a strong description.
Haunted?
No. That’s even stronger.
Whatever it was, it’d always be there. If I were one of those motivational quote posters on Facebook, I’d be thinking, Well, everything happens for a reason! or something equally as uplifting. Maybe things did happen for a reason, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
“I can’t believe you’re having sex with him,” Jenna stage-whispered.
“Please, say it a little louder. I don’t think the whole house heard you,” I muttered, ignoring the emotional lump in my throat.
“What happens now?” Bella asked, stroking my hair. Her tiny frame was curled up next to me on my bed, while Jenna was sitting cross-legged at the end.
I’d had no choice but to tell them. They had known that something was wrong with me the second I’d walked through the door. Probably because I’d been fucking crying.
I shrugged and picked at a loose thread. “I’m suspended for the week. He resigned. Other than that, I have no idea.”
“What about Harvard?” Jenna asked, biting her thumbnail. “Will it go on your record?”
Again, I shrugged. “Probably. Harvard was only a pipeline dream anyway, Jen. Something I had to try. The chances of it were very small. But…I don’t know. Jordan took all the blame in the hope that my record won’t be affected.”
“Jordan,” she mused. “So strange to hear you say his name like that.”
“Like what?”
“All…soft.”
Bella nodded. “It’s just…different, you know? Like when you’re in a pet store and you’re looking at puppies. You say, ‘Aw,’ every time, but there’s always that one puppy that makes you say a different, better kind of, ‘Aw.’ Maybe he’s your puppy.”
My eyes slid to her. “Sure. He’s my puppy.”
“Wouldn’t he be her ‘aw’?” Jenna questioned.
“No, her puppy. The puppy is what makes her say, ‘Aw.’ She says his name differently because of who he is, like you say, ‘Aw,’ differently because of who the puppy is.”
Jenna paused. “You’re right.”
“Guys. Stop with the fucking puppies.” I rolled onto my side, tucked right into my covers. “My life could be falling apart and all you’re concerned with is whether or not he’s a fucking ‘aw’ or a fucking ‘puppy.’”
They both stopped talking immediately. They could decide that all they wanted, but apart from a text message from him last night wishing me sweet dreams, we hadn’t spoken.
I figured he was giving me a little space. I hoped that was what was happening, at least.
“You just need to go and talk to him,” Bella finally said after several minutes of silence. “You both need to know where you’re going and what you’re doing. Because, hey… He isn’t your
teacher anymore, is he?
She did have a point there.
“But what if the university finds out we’re still seeing each other?”
Jenna grabbed one of my throw pillows and hit me with it. “They can’t say a thing, Darce. You’re no longer his student. He’s no longer your teacher. How you started screwing be damned!”
“Nicely put, Jen.”
“Thank you, Bella.”
I was in an alternate universe. That was the only explanation. They were never this nice to one another.
“So, you’re proposing I march down to his house and demand to know where our relationship is going?”
“Well, yeah.”
I glanced at Bella. “You agree with her?”
“You could maybe try and cook…” she hedged. “But I’m kind of afraid you might poison him.”
I winced. “Seriously, one time almost two years ago and you’re still butthurt?”
“I was in bed, throwing up, for three days, Darcy! Three days!”
“I told you not to give me the chicken, but you didn’t listen.” I sighed and sat up. “I can’t cook for him. I will probably kill him.”
“True. What if I baked you cookies?” Jenna asked. “Cookies are the cure for everything.”
I’d have argued if I’d believed she were wrong. “That would be great.”
She slid off my bed then paused. “You have to take some to him. You know that, right?”
I smiled innocently. Yeah…I knew. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t eat them once I’d given them to him.
My car smelled like a kitchen that had just had freshly baked cookies removed from the oven. My stomach was growling, something that was a nice switch from the nerves of the past several days. I didn’t know how this was going to go, but I had told him that I was stopping by to talk.
I was terrified.
It’d always amazed me how quickly feelings could change. My feelings toward Jordan were no different. I’d gone from being desperate to get away from him to being terrified that I might not get to be around him in what seemed like no time at all.
The dark clouds rolling across the house matched my despondent mood. I sighed heavily as I grabbed the plate full of cookies from my passenger’s seat and locked my car.
