The second I sat, she picked up a phone. Her voice was low, but I could still catch what she said. “Dr. Foster? Yes, I know, but Seb Owens is here, wanting to schedule an appointment. You’re pretty booked up but…right now? Okay, okay, I’ll let him know.”
She replaced the phone on the receiver and pinned me with that phony smile. “You can go on back now, he had some time free up unexpectedly.”
Yeah, sure. I bet he did. Right after he heard who was waiting for him outside.
“Thanks.” Angry, quick strides propelled me toward his office. I rapped and then opened the door before Dr. Foster had time to open his mouth and grant permission to enter. He jumped a little when I stormed in. Good. Let him sweat. How does it feel to have someone barge in on your life without invitation? Maybe the university was only doing it metaphorically but I guaranteed metaphorically felt a shit-ton worse.
“Ah, Mr. Owens! I was hoping we could chat soon, so it’s fortuitous that you stopped by my office. Close the door, please.” Dr. Foster leaned back in his chair, the picture of a leisurely gentleman with his silver-streaked dark hair and crisp suit paired with a tasteful navy blue and gray tie. His purple Harvard gown fluttered from a prominent position on the back of his door when I closed it.
Of course he kept his Harvard gown on display in his office, the pretentious prick.
“Fortuitous? I guess that’s one way of putting it.” I took a few steps to stand behind one of the empty chairs but didn’t sit. “Actually, that’s not how I’d put it at all. Not when we’re talking about discrimination.”
A muscle twitched in Dr. Foster’s jaw, but apart from that, he hid any signs of anger well. “That’s quite an accusation, son. You should be careful of throwing such things around. I can see you’re upset. Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll talk this out.”
“I prefer to stand, actually.” If only because it gave me a height advantage over him. Sitting before that elaborate wooden desk would make me feel like a peon appealing to a king. Hard pass.
The professor shrugged. “Suit yourself. So I take it you’re here about your education grant.”
“Yes. Are you really threatening to take it away if I don’t hide the fact that I’m gay? Because there’s no way I’m doing that.”
For the first time, I had the satisfaction of seeing Dr. Foster flinch. What, did he have a problem with me saying the word out loud? Too fucking bad. It was all I could do not to open my mouth and start taunting him like a five-year-old. Gay, gay, gay.
“Has anyone here asked you to hide the fact you’re…of a different sexual orientation?”
Holy shit. This guy killed me. He acted like God might smite him down just for the hell of it, for having the balls to even utter the word gay. “ If they have, please let me know, and we can file a complaint. Well?” he demanded, when I didn’t respond at first.
“No,” I said, with extreme reluctance.
“Exactly!” His pompous smile made me want to shred his Harvard robe, right in front of his eyes. “No, the matter at hand is the morality clause that forbids students from dating professors.”
“Right. Because a twenty-six-year-old dating a professor who doesn’t even teach in his department or oversee him on any courses at all is clearly a big conflict of interest.”
“We may not always like the rules, Seb, but they’re there for a reason. To protect students.”
“I don’t need your protection. Also, give me some credit. If I was a female grad student and dating David, I bet everyone would look the other way. This is bigotry, and it’s bul…utter crap,” I amended at the last second. Yeah, I was pissed as hell, but that didn’t mean I needed to burn down every bridge.
Dr. Foster studied me for a few stressfully long moments, before sighing and reaching for his phone. “David? It’s Bob. I need you to come to my office right now, it’s urgent. Yes, thank you.”
My heart did a funny little leap in my chest before dropping into my gut. He’d called David! But also, he’d called David! Who, based on previous experience, probably would flip his shit when he realized why he’d been summoned.
For the first time, my nerves fired up. I looked at the chair longingly, but I felt stupid sitting now. So I stood and fidgeted and prayed this would all be over soon. Huh. Guess as it turned out, I cared more about David’s reaction to all of this than my education grant. Good to know.
David swept into the office about a minute later, all tall and authoritative and looking damn fine in a tailored sport-coat and snugger than usual jeans. He caught sight of me clutching the back of the chair and his mouth tightened into that firm line like it did when something irritated him. In the blink of an eye, he’d schooled his features into a reserved, cordial mask and greeted us both.
“David, Bob. What can I help you with?” He eased into the open chair closest to him. With a single sharp look at me, he had me sinking obediently into the other one.
Dr. Foster steepled his fingers and oozed fake concern. “I hate to be in this position, but there have been rumors of your involvement with Seb off campus. This came up in Seb’s TA interview today,” came up? Yeah, right, more like a surprise ambush, “and Seb seems misguided and a little agitated about the reason for our concern. He suspects bigotry is at play, when all we’re doing is our due diligence to ensure you are both following our code of conduct. Oh, the hot tempers of youth. I was hoping you could talk to him for us. Assure him we’re merely following protocol.”
David frowned at me. “Is that true?”
Goddammit. If he threw me to the wolves, aka, the pompous Bob Foster, I might actually scream. Right here in this office. “That I’m a little agitated? Yeah. They threatened to pull my education grant over some archaic morality clause that wants to dictate what I do in my free time.”
David stiffened when I mentioned the education grant. His mouth hardened even more, and his blue eyes flashed. “Is that true, Bob? Did you tell Seb that he’d lose his grant if we continued to…fraternize? A thing that we’ve been doing for the past two years, I might point out. With no one ever commenting one way or another.” His deep voice held a dangerous edge, that given the situation, shouldn’t have sent a tingle down my spine, but absolutely did.
For the first time, Dr. Foster appeared flustered. He fussed with his papers and cleared his throat. “Did I tell him that? No. That’s coming from the dean of the department. Dr. Lang was the bearer of bad news, and referred Seb to me. I don’t make these rules.”
Wow. Apparently, that was the go-to line to dodge blame on this campus.
“I’m glad to hear it,” David said in that same dangerous voice. “Because I’m sure you can see Seb’s point—the whole thing does reek a bit of discrimination. Now we both know that you don’t have any power here, so why don’t Seb and I quit…wasting your time and let you get back to work.”
Thankfully, Dr. Foster seemed so grateful to get rid of us that he didn’t show even a hint of annoyance at David’s insulting tone. “Yes, thank, you, I know you all are busy too. Thanks for coming in on such short notice,” Dr. Foster said. I did my best not to snicker.