“I can take him.”
She winces, and it occurs to me that when I piss him off, it probably makes things harder on people I care about. Ones who don’t deserve his bullshit but can’t walk away like I can.
I skim the feedback.
The only lectures I don’t skip.
Tough but knows what he’s talking about.
Seems like a different guy from the start of the semester.
My brows lift. “They like me.”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised. Your father was secretly delighted when he had good reviews.”
My laughter fades. “I have a hard time picturing that.”
In the past couple weeks, I’ve gone through some of my dad’s old things, and I’m starting to see what Olivia meant—he seems like a different person since I left.
I’m not ready to let him off the hook for how he raised me, but knowing he was a better man after I left stings less than I thought it would.
Still thinking of Olivia’s request, I pull up my phone and look at the lab schedule. Sure enough, the entire day is blocked out. “Hey. How can I see who’s using the lab? It usually shows who’s in it.”
Betty leans over to look at my phone. “That means a central booking from the dean’s office. Except I’m usually the one to make the booking. Let me check…” She turns to her computer, entering a few keystrokes. “We had cameras installed in the main lab after a prank break-in last year. Except…the lab’s empty.”
It makes zero sense.
My grip on the phone tightens as a text message displays on a banner across the screen between us.
Cherry: You like any skirt without anything underneath, Professor.
Betty’s gaze meets mine.
Fuck.
I clear my throat. “It’s not…”
“What it looks like?”
That hangs between us.
“I want you to be happy, Sawyer. Happy doesn’t always mean following the rules, behaving like society expects us to. But…” She goes on, inhaling sharply, “Not everyone is as open-minded.”
The door behind her opens and the dean appears. “Professor Redmond. Come in. Have a seat.”
He’s powerful on this campus, and dangerous. He can’t ruin my life, but he would get off trying, and he’d ruin a lot of other people that I care about.
So I sit in the chair facing his desk while he claims the one behind it.
“You tried to fuck me over,” I start.
“Excuse me?”
“By inviting Tate here to meet my students after Black Build. It didn’t work, and it won’t.”
“Whatever you’re imagining, it’s pure conjecture. Now, we’re talking about your reviews.” He shuffles papers on his desk. “Faculty can’t return if their reviews aren’t satisfactory.”
I cross my arms. “We both know this was a one-time-only thing. Covering for Lancaster until you can hire someone new.”
He cocks his head, surprised. “Surely you at least want to apply. Do you have any idea how many faculty would kill for this job?”
I want to tell him where to stick his invitation, but Betty’s warning echoes in my head. Pissing him off more than necessary will only make life harder for people I care about, including her. She’ll have to deal with his scorched ego when I walk out of here.
He clears his throat. “You scored a four point oh out of five. This is below the departments’ goal of a four point three review from all faculty.”
“If I’m not mistaken, your reviews last semester were a three point six.”
“How did you…” He turns so red he’s nearly purple.
I lean over his desk, picking up an expensive-looking pen on the blotter. “I have an agenda item, too. I want the faculty’s full support for my Stars team. No phantom lab bookings that don’t exist.”
He grabs the pen from my hand. “It’s an indulgent exercise. We could be investing in faculty instead of—”
“Students? We’re a university. What the fuck else should we be investing in?”
“It’s a research institution! This department has the opportunity to produce leading innovations.”
“And you’re afraid those new ideas will come from the students, not from you.”
He wants success, but only if he can take all the credit. If my team does well, that credit goes to them, and perhaps to me. He can’t stand it.
Students are the lifeblood of this and every school. Faculty’s job is to help them learn from their mistakes, but it’s not a place to find your own glory.
“You have no idea the pressures we’re under. You never wanted to be here,” he sputters. “Even as a student, you thought you were too good for this place. So what changed? You didn’t suddenly start caring for these students. You only care about yourself. Lancaster took you in because he felt obliged. He thought he could tame you, make something of you. But you’re a wild animal no one else wanted.”
The accusations glance off me as I rise from my seat.
“The students are presenting to the justification committee in another week. I expect no further interference, unless you want this elevated to the provost’s office. I’m sure the university would be glad to ensure the team is appropriately supported if engineering is struggling.” I reach into the inside pocket of my jacket to pull out a flyer and set it in front of him. “I hope we’ll see you at the party.”
22
Olivia
“You look like you could use this after all the hours we’ve been pulling this week.” Adam brings me a drink from the long table the caterers set up in Lancaster’s backyard.
“Thanks.” I take the cup and sip. The cider fits the fall vibe, though it’s unseasonably warm enough I’m wearing a denim jacket and Adam’s in his team jacket from basketball.
“How’s the arm holding up?” I nod to Adam’s shoulder, still in a bandage from the accident.
“It’s healing, but I’m off basketball.”
“I’m sorry. But it could have been worse. When I found that bottle…I was scared you were drinking.”
“I had it with me, but only had a sip. And not in the car,” he goes on at my look. “It was a mistake. I seem to be making them a lot. But I hope I haven’t made any I can’t come back from.”
“Meaning?”
“There are things you get over, and ones you can’t.” He shoves his good hand through his hair. “It’s been a rough semester. But we survived, right? Just a week until finals.”
We toast, his cup to mine.
“Couldn’t see Redmond hosting a party before. At least one like this.”
I follow Adam’s gaze to Sawyer, who’s deigning to make small talk with other faculty. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a sweater, nodding as if he’s trying to stay invested in the conversation when he’s secretly itching to bolt.
I have a plan—one that starts with everyone, including Sawyer, having a good time.
I told Sawyer it would be smart for the department to see him like this, but it’s more than that.