by Parker, Ali
“Leaked it?” I squeaked.
“Yes, despicable,” he muttered. I watched as he pulled out an envelope from under a stack of papers. He pulled out a picture and I thought I would absolutely die. “Do you know this man?” he asked.
He handed me a picture of Christopher. I remembered the moment vividly. “No,” I blurted out. “I don’t know him.”
I remembered what Kami had said about my lying ability. I had to lie. It was my only choice. I couldn’t give up Christopher.
“I have the picture floating around. I’m convinced someone will recognize him.”
“Do you have a picture of the other person?” I asked, hoping I sounded casual.
He wrinkled his nose. “The only clear picture we got isn’t exactly something that could be used to identify the woman.”
Again, I was convinced I was going to melt into the chair. I was beyond embarrassed and humiliated. My white ass was likely the angle he was referring to. I supposed I should be happy they didn’t actually get a shot of my face. However, it was only a matter of time before I was named. If they had the footage from the alcove, they would likely search the library surveillance cameras and find me walking up with Christopher.
“I see. Well, what do you plan to do once you have the people in the video identified?”
“Expel them,” he said bluntly.
“For what reason?” I asked, automatically going on the defensive.
He puffed up his chest. “That kind of behavior is not going to be tolerated at my school.”
“Sex? You’re going to banish sex?”
I was pushing my luck. I figured my luck had probably run out already and I may as well finish myself off. The dean’s self-righteous attitude was starting to piss me off. Maybe if he got laid, he wouldn’t be so damn uptight.
“I am absolutely going to forbid it from happening in public places on school grounds,” he snapped. “It’s deplorable. The young people of today have no manners. They have no morals. They need to be taught some stern life lessons.”
“And you’re going to do that?”
“I’m going to do all I can to impose higher standards for the young people under my care.”
I rolled my eyes. “They are adults. Every single person that attends school here is an adult. The man in that picture, he looks old enough to make sound decisions.”
“Are you telling me you think this kind of behavior is acceptable?”
I had to choose my words carefully. At the moment, I still had a job. I knew it wouldn’t be long before my identity was exposed. I had to decide just how big of a hole I wanted to dig for myself. “I’m saying, I think there could be exceptions.”
He shook his head. “No exceptions.”
“Is it somewhere in the handbook?” I questioned.
“Is what in the handbook?”
“That students, assuming that man is a student, are not allowed to have sex on campus?”
His face turned lobster-red. “Well, no, but that is not the point. Do I really have to explicitly tell people not to have sex in the library?”
I sighed. “No, probably not.”
“You’re free to go back to class,” he said. “I expect the identity will be revealed by the end of the day.”
I got the impression he was enjoying the search a little too much. He looked downright giddy. I dreaded the moment he realized it was me in the video. “Good luck,” I said getting to my feet.
“I’m sorry to have brought you in on this.”
“Why did you bring me in?” I asked.
He waved a hand. “One of the other professors I spoke with this morning thought the guy might have been in your class during break. He remembered because he thought it odd an older man would be taking a Greek mythology class.”
I nearly fainted. “Oh?”
“You don’t remember him?”
“No, sorry, I don’t. I suppose I tend to get tunnel vision. I should pay more attention to the faces.”
He shrugged. “Obviously they were mistaken. Thankfully, there aren’t a lot of mature men on campus. His identity won’t be too hard to uncover.”
I offered a smile. “I suppose not. Maybe he didn’t re-enroll. There’s a chance it was a one-off.”
He made a face. “I certainly hope so. I don’t want his kind in my school.”
“Good luck on your quest,” I said with no real feeling.
I walked out of the office, doing my best to keep myself from showing any kind of emotion. I pasted a smile on my face, nodding at his secretary and the other administration. I wouldn’t let them see me sweat. I was freaking out on the inside. My first thought was I needed to call Christopher and warn him. His face was out there. The dean was right, it wouldn’t be long until they identified him.
I knew he wouldn’t throw me under the bus, but I had to think of all the times we’d been seen together in the cafeteria, after class, in class and there had been a few people in the library that day. I couldn’t imagine the dean putting out a bulletin for the entire campus to try and identify the miscreants in the video, but it could happen.
I walked into the ladies’ room, checking each stall before going into one and locking it. Confident I was alone, I pulled out my phone and called Christopher. It rang several times before going to voicemail. I hung up and called right back, hoping he would get the idea it was important and answer the damn phone.
I checked the time and realized he was probably in class. On the third call, I realized he wasn’t going to answer. “It’s me. The dean is looking for you. He has a video of the library incident. Call me back as soon as you get this.”
I ended the call, waiting to see if he would call me back. I heard the door open and realized I was no longer alone. I flushed the toilet and shoved the phone in my pocket before walking out. I washed my hands before walking out, making sure no one suspected I was doing anything suspicious. It was probably all in my head, but I felt like everyone was watching me. I felt like there were eyes everywhere.
As I walked out of the bathroom, I cursed myself for not being smarter. I knew there was a chance there would be a camera up there. I had initiated that little sexcapade. I was to blame for the hot water we were both in. I considered falling on the sword and taking the full blame, but part of me hoped there was still a chance there was some kind of deniability.
There wasn’t. I knew there wasn’t. I considered ditching class for the rest of the day and going home to work on my resume. I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. I pushed open the door, stepping out into the bright sunlight and immediately squinting. I pulled on my sunglasses and started the trek to my building on the other side of campus.
I checked my phone several times to see if Christopher called back. I was afraid to send him a text. What if someone got their hands on his phone and read the message? With that reasoning, someone could listen to his voicemail if he didn’t have it password protected.
I groaned, shaking my head. I was not cut out to be an investigator or a spy or anything else that required subterfuge. It was all too much for me. I was a black and white kind of girl. I hated all the secrets.
“Oh Leila, why would you be so reckless?”
I needed to come up with an actual answer to that. When I started interviewing for a new job, it was bound to come up. I needed to be prepared to explain the situation. As if there was a way to explain it. I got horny. That was my reason for banging a student in the library. I was horny. He was hot and willing. End of story.
Chapter 60
Christopher
I felt the phone vibrating, letting me know there was a voicemail after the three phone calls. I hated when people called and didn’t leave a message. I hadn’t dared pull the phone from my pocket to check to see who was calling. I kept it tucked in my pocket, as it always was when I was in class. The professor was a stickler on the no phone rule. The first day I had witnessed the professor snatch a phone and read the text messages aloud. I did not want to suf
fer the same humiliation. I didn’t want to make a name for myself as a rebel.
An old rebel was not quite as sexy as a young rebel. I would look desperate and old. I wasn’t necessarily trying to impress any of them, but I also didn’t want to look like a total loser either. I had some pride. I shifted, reaching my hand in my pocket to push the button on the phone that would stop the vibrating. I was worried everyone would hear the damn thing and call me out.
The lecture was underway when someone dared to break the rule of opening the door after class had started. I couldn’t help but look. It was a free show. I wasn’t the only one who stared at the door. I glanced back to look at the professor’s face and saw the anger. It was going to be good.
The professor stomped over to the door. There was a very quiet, short discussion before the two men turned to the class. I watched as they scanned the faces of my fellow students. The man who had violated the closed-door rule pointed at me.
“You,” the professor’s voice boomed. “Go with him.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Me?” I asked, pointing at my chest.
“Yes, go.”
I grabbed my stuff and headed for the door. My first thought was Olin. As soon as we were in the hallway, I had to ask. “Is my son okay?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” the man snapped.
“Who are you?” I asked stopping dead in my tracks. I wasn’t quite so naïve that I went anywhere with a stranger.
“I’m an assistant to the dean,” he answered. “The dean would like to speak to you.”
“To me? Who am I?”
He checked a piece of paper in his hand. “Christopher Evans,” he answered.
“And the dean wants to see me?”
“Yes.”
We started walking again. I pulled out my phone and looked at the missed call log. There were three missed calls from Leila and a voicemail. Something told me shit was about to hit the fan.
“Do you know what this is about?” I asked. “I mean, I paid for a class, I think I have a right to attend that class.”
“You’ll have to talk to the dean,” he answered his tone unfriendly.
I looked up and happened to notice Leila hurrying away from the very building we were headed into. I didn’t think she saw me. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes, but the set of her jaw told me she was stressed.
Dread washed over me. It couldn’t be anything good. I wanted to go to her and make sure everything was okay. I followed my escort and was led to the dean’s office. I was taken right in.
“Hello,” the older man sitting behind the desk said. “Have a seat please.”
I sat and waited. I wasn’t going to give him any information. “Good morning,” I greeted, hoping to disarm him a little.
“Good morning, Mr. Evans,” he said, folding his hands and resting them on his desk. “I have a problem.”
I shrugged. “Sorry to hear that. Is this a problem I can help you with?”
“Yes, I believe you can,” he said and pulled out a picture. He waved it in the air. “This is my problem.”
He slid the picture across the desk. I picked it up, saw my face and immediately recognized the background. I was long past the age of being shamed by someone who thought he knew how I should live my life. We’d done nothing wrong. I wouldn’t let him turn something beautiful into something dirty.
“How is this your problem?” I asked.
“Are you denying it’s you?”
I shrugged again, slowly shaking my head. “No.”
His lip curled. “You find this funny?”
“I find this to be none of your business.”
“I have a video of you having sex in my library!” he bellowed.
“You have a video of me having sex in the school’s library,” I corrected, refusing to be intimidated by the man. I hated what he had done to Leila over the years. The man had an inflated sense of power. He was the dean—not the police or the president.
“I find this behavior reprehensible. I want to know who is in this video with you.”
I felt immediate relief. He didn’t know it was Leila. “Didn’t you say you had a video?”
“I do, but unfortunately, the angle was such that we didn’t get an image of the woman’s face. We got other clear images of her, uh, body, but not her face.”
I couldn’t help the smirk that erupted over my face. “I see.”
“Who was it?”
“Why? Why is that any of your business?”
He cleared his throat. “This is a serious offense. It isn’t funny. I want to know who your cohort was. I will not tolerate this kind of behavior in my school.”
“Do you honestly think that is the first and only time something like that happened in your school?” I questioned.
“I am not here to be interrogated by the likes of you. I want to know who it is.”
I smiled. “You won’t be finding out from me.”
He leaned forward, his face twisted in anger. “You will be expelled. You will never take another class at this university. By the time I am done with your file, you won’t be allowed to enroll at any respectable institution. You will never finish your degree.”
I grinned. “I suppose I’ll just have to go fishing more often.”
“Excuse me?” he snapped.
“Fishing. You put a worm on a hook and toss it in the water with the hopes of catching a fish. You’ve heard of it, right?”
“Do not get smart with me young man.”
I leaned forward. “No offense, but I’m guessing you might be ten years older than I am. I appreciate the compliment, but I haven’t been called a young man in a very long time.”
“This isn’t a game. I will ruin you.”
“I don’t think you understand, your threats are empty.”
He leaned back. “You think because you are wealthy, rules don’t apply to you.”
“I never said that.”
“Look, I can see you care about furthering your education. It’s important to me everyone has access to higher learning. I’m willing to make you a deal.”
“A deal? You’ll let me finish the semester?”
He nodded. “In exchange for a donation to the school and the name of your partner in crime, I won’t put this on your permanent record.”
“A donation?” I questioned, skeptical about his change in heart.
“Yes. A donation worthy of the crime.”
“I didn’t commit a crime,” I reminded him.
He smiled. “In your opinion. In my opinion, which is the one that matters in this situation, you’ve violated school policy. You can either make amends or destroy your chances of getting the degree you’re after.”
“If I give you a name?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
I sighed. “If I pay you off—”
“A donation is not a pay off.”
“If I donate to the school, why does it matter who the other person was?”
He frowned. “Because that person will be held accountable.”
“You’ll expel the person?”
“Yes.”
“Will you offer that person the same deal?”
“No.”
Something didn’t feel right. I hadn’t been a successful real estate investor by not trusting my judgment. I knew a scam when I saw one. The dean was offering me a deal in exchange for me giving up Leila. Which made me wonder how he knew my name.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you know who I was?” I questioned.
“A professor, whom I trust, identified you.”
I felt like I had been kicked in the gut. I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind to deal with later. “I’ll think about your offer and get back to you.”
“I wouldn’t think too long. If I find out the identity of the other person, I won’t need your testimony.”
I smiled. “But you’ll still need my donation.”
“I’m
not sure I will.”
I had a feeling he was going to try and wheel and deal with Leila. It would come down to who could afford to pay the most restitution. I knew I would be able to outbid her in that war any day, but I wouldn’t do that to her. I knew how important her job was.
“If that’s all you need me for, I’ll be going now.”
“You’re excused from the rest of your classes until this is resolved,” he said as I stood up.
It was another threat. “I’ll enjoy the break,” I said and walked out.
My mind was plagued by the thought Leila had given me up to save herself. It hurt. I felt betrayed. I would have taken the blame to save her, but to be sold out, that stung. I wondered if she knew what would happen. She had to suspect I would be expelled.
I remembered her phone calls. As I walked back to my truck, I checked the voicemail. She sounded urgent. I checked the time. She would have likely just got done with her own meeting with the dean. Was she calling to tell me what she had done?
I got in the truck, not starting the engine just yet. I replayed everything I knew, putting the facts on one list and my suspicions on the other. No matter which way I looked at it, everything pointed to her selling me out.
I let out a long sigh and started the truck. I pulled out of the parking lot, looking in my rearview mirror and feeling a strange sense of loss. I wasn’t sure I’d be back. I knew in my heart I would never give the dean her name. That didn’t mean I would accept her easy betrayal. What kind of woman was I getting myself involved with?
I wasn’t sure I could bring a woman that would give me up to save herself into my life—into Olin’s life. I was upset with myself for falling so hard. I didn’t really know her. I thought I knew her, but the Leila I thought I knew would have at least discussed her options with me first.
By the time I got home, I had myself well and truly worked up. I was in a shitty mood and didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed down to the dock to do a little self-reflecting.
I thought about my conversation with Olin that very morning. How in the hell was I going to explain to Olin that I had been wrong about her? I felt like an idiot. I should have waited to introduce the two of them. It would be much easier to eat humble pie without an audience.
