by Lea Coll
“Thank you so much, Coach. I really appreciate your help. Writing papers is so difficult for me.”
Was she the tall blonde I’d seen on the rowing team? And her tone was flirty. Could she be part of the sorority bet? I couldn’t stop myself from watching them and how she touched his arm.
“Let me know if you need another TA or someone to help around here. I’d be happy to,” the woman said.
Why would he hire a TA who needed assistance in the class? Usually it went to a grad student majoring in history.
“I have a TA, but thank you, Cindy. I’ll see you at practice tonight,” Sawyer said.
“Of course.” She stepped back giving him a little wave and walked down the hallway.
I couldn’t help but wonder if his TA was male or female.
Sawyer stepped out. “Are you okay?” He ushered me inside and closed the door behind us. “Did something happen?”
Realizing I still hadn’t spoken yet, my throat swelled with tears at the sight of Sawyer’s concerned face. I had to be strong in front of my mom and dad, but could lean on Sawyer. I squeezed my arms around his back, rested my head on his chest, and allowed the tears to fall. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually cried. The release felt cathartic.
“Stella? You’re scaring me. What happened?” He pulled back and tilted my chin to see my face.
I sniffled. I couldn’t believe I was crying in front of Sawyer. I usually kept everything bottled up and acted like everything was fine. For the first time, I realized how exhausting that was.
“What happened? Tell me.”
Right then, I felt as exposed as when I’d stood naked in front of him the night before. I flushed at the memory of his slow perusal of my body with nothing but pure desire and appreciation in his eyes. His acceptance was everything. I hoped he’d be as understanding and accepting when I revealed more about my family.
I took a shaky breath and moved to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I went to see my parents today.”
Understanding dawned on his face as he leaned on the desk in front of me and nodded to encourage me to continue.
“Nothing has changed, but my dad wants to get a psychologist in to see her.”
Sawyer gave me a sympathetic smile. “Not a bad idea.”
“I don’t know if it will make a difference, but that’s not why I’m upset. My dad told me everything—what triggered her depression.” I wiped the tears from my face. “She’d had a miscarriage. She was understandably depressed and my dad kept himself busy so he wouldn’t have to deal with it. He wanted to try for another baby but she couldn’t get past it. She got worse and worse.” I was quiet for a minute and then said quietly, “If she’d gotten help back then, she wouldn’t be like this now.”
“It’s possible, or you could be in the same position. There’s no way of knowing for sure.”
Sawyer crouched down in front of me, placing his hands on my knees. “Your dad was grieving too, you know? He handled it the best way he knew how. They left you with this burden as a child and that’s not right, but he’s stepping up now.”
He was right. I chewed my lip, staring down at my hands, which he’d taken into his. “What I can’t get over is how you can grieve an unborn child but forget about your living children.” And that’s what was bothering me the most. Tears started flowing down my cheeks and Sawyer’s hand cupped my cheek wiping the tears.
“I don’t know. As much as it hurts I don’t think it was a conscious decision to ignore you or your sister. Your mom couldn’t get past her grief over the baby.”
“I know she has a medical condition.” This was always my struggle. She had a medical reason for her actions so I felt the inevitable guilt over my hurt feelings. “But it still hurts.”
Cradling my face in his hands, he said, “I’d do anything to take this pain away from you, but something tells me you need to feel it before you’re able to move on.”
If I was ever able to move on. Is this why I had so much trouble with men? I picked unavailable men on purpose? In some sick twisted way I was reliving my mother’s rejection over and over again. My head was starting to hurt from the stress and the crying.
Then Sawyer stood, tugging me up with him, and enveloping me in his strong arms. I shoved my face into his chest as the rest of the tears fell. When they finally stopped, he grabbed a water bottle from the small fridge under his window. “Drink.”
I took a large sip of water, then more, not realizing how thirsty I was. “I’m probably dehydrated from all the crying.”
“Sometimes it’s necessary.”
“That’s true, but something tells me you never cry.”
“I don’t have anything heavy in my life right now.” Smiling softly, he said, “Things are pretty great.”
Hope surged in my chest that he was talking about us.
“I don’t like seeing you sad, but I’m happy you came to me. It means a lot that I was able to be here for you—to take care of you.”
I liked it a lot too—probably too much. Laura’s words from earlier today rang through my head. I couldn’t forget about the bet, but now that I was standing in Sawyer’s arms it was hard to believe he’d ever betray me. I hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake.
THE NEXT MORNING, I FIRED up my computer as soon as I sat down in my cubicle.
Then Bob was hovering over me. “Have you made any progress on a story?”
I sighed. I was hoping he’d give me more time or forget about it entirely. I should have known he’d never let it go. Once I told him about this story I couldn’t go back. Which was more important—my job or Sawyer’s tenure? I kept hoping there was a way to protect my job and Sawyer.
At the very least, giving Bob something to go on now would give me more time to figure things out. “I have a possibility. The Zeta sorority performs crazy pranks each year, but this year a few of the women made a bet to see who can sleep with a professor.”
He nodded his approval. “Good work. I don’t care much about the pranks, but professors sleeping with students has a nice ring to it.”
“Since when did we become a gossip rag?” I was so disappointed with his reaction. “Shouldn’t we be coming from the angle of protecting the students and not sensationalizing the story?”
“You know what I mean, with the Me Too movement, there’s interest in sexual harassment and assault, especially in supervisor/student relationships. The imbalance of power makes it a bigger story—raises the stakes.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “Something like this could get picked up by larger media outlets.”
Which meant it could be a big story for me too, but was my career worth risking my relationship with Sawyer?
“Keep up the good work. I’d like a printable article in the next day or two. Focus all of your attention on this. I’ll take any of the town events this week.”
“Okay.” Now I had full permission to spend all of my time on campus investigating the sororities and professors. What was I going to tell Sawyer? I could interview him. He’d mentioned how there was a balance between keeping distance between students and getting positive student evaluations. But could I keep my fears from him? Or would he know that I suspected he was involved?
Despite Bob’s direction to work solely on this new story, the online articles were my sole responsibility. Quickly checking the social media sites, I realized I hadn’t posted anything lately. Not since my disastrous online date. I quickly drafted a post depicting my date and inviting others to share their horror stories. As uncomfortable as my meeting with Nate was, I knew there were worse stories out there. Satisfied I’d generate some interest, I powered off my computer and gathered my things.
I could work and eavesdrop on campus. As I walked to campus, a plan formulated. I’d hang out on campus as much as possible and with Sawyer during rowing practice. Hopefully, I’d get lucky again and overhear or see something important. As paranoid as I was, the likely target had to be Owen. Sawyer said Owen dea
lt with a lot of flirting from the students. If a sorority girl showed interest, I was sure he’d be all over it. My initial internet search of Owen’s work history hadn’t generated any leads, but I hadn’t investigated deeper. Ducking into a coffee shop, I pulled out my phone and notebook so that I could make some calls.
I dialed a younger female professor in the history department at Brooklyn College, Owen’s most recent job, hoping she’d be willing to talk. “Dr. Howe.”
“Dr. Howe, I’m so happy I was able to catch you. My name is Stella Lewis and I work at Washington College with Owen Mason. We’re planning a little end of the year celebration for the professors and Owen was voted most popular professor by the students.” I worked with the student paper so it wasn’t entirely a lie. And I didn’t say my job title, but I’d found over time that if you gave enough details things like that got lost in the shuffle of a phone call. “I’d love to get more anecdotes about him to add to the awards ceremony. I’m preparing pictures and a little speech on his philanthropy, his research, articles, anything I can find, really. But the whole thing is a surprise so I can’t ask him directly.”
“Oh, okay. I’d be happy to help. A student might walk in with questions though. You called during my open office hours.”
“Oh, of course. I totally understand.” I kept my tone upbeat with a smile on my face.
“What can you tell me about Owen?”
“The students love him, as you already know.”
The question was how much did the students love him?
“He would dress in period pieces to keep his lectures interesting. He liked being involved in other activities on campus too, sporting events. He thrived on mentoring the students. He had an open-door policy twenty-four seven.”
“Interesting. Don’t professors keep office hours to set times?” Who would want to be interrupted all of the time?
“We do. But that was his thing I guess and it worked for him.”
I needed to find out how many TAs he had, female or male, and how closely he worked with them. Should I get the student newspaper on this too? They had access to more gossip and knowledge on campus than I ever could.
“Anything else you can think of?”
“No, we weren’t friends or anything.”
The way she said that made me feel like she had more to say, but wouldn’t in a professional setting. I wished more than anything we were face to face so I could read her body language and facial expressions, but traveling was not a possibility with our limited budget.
“Well, thank you so much for your time. Please contact me if you think of anything that could be useful.” I made sure she had my number and we got off the phone. The next thing I did was send an email to the newspaper staff on campus for a meeting this afternoon.
“Hey!” Ashley plopped into the seat across from me at the tiny table with her coffee. “Are you taking a break too?”
“Hey. I was on my way to campus and then forgot I needed to make a phone call.”
Ashley laughed.
“I know. I’m so scatterbrained.”
“True. Do you have a few? I haven’t seen you since your birthday.”
Was that true? My birthday felt like a lifetime ago. “So much has happened I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about Sawyer?” She wiggled her brows. “I hope that’s why you’ve been MIA lately.”
“Partly. I invited him over for dinner after my birthday and things took off.” Everything he did drew me in more—every touch, every kind word. “Something just clicked and I knew I needed to tell him my feelings had changed.”
“It went well?”
“I told him about my family.”
Ashley leaned onto the table focusing her attention on me. “You did? That’s huge. You must really trust him.”
Did I? I didn’t feel capable of truly trusting anyone. Not with my history. “I told him somewhere along the way it had gone from pretend dating to real for me.” My mind shot back to that moment when I’d laid myself bare. When I’d asked if he felt the same, he’d responded what do you think? The only thing I could think about after that was how fast I could remove my clothes and feel him skin to skin. I looked around to see if anyone was nearby and lowered my voice. “It was amazing.”
Ashley paused her coffee cup halfway to her mouth. “Wow. Your face is all dreamy. The sex must have been phenomenal.”
“Amazing, Ashley. So good. You have no idea.” Then I felt heat rise up my face. I was usually forthcoming about my sex life with Ashley because we’d been close forever but wasn’t sure it was a good idea to discuss Sawyer or any specifics. Something about what happened the other night felt special—like speaking about it to anyone else would burst that bubble.
“Oh, I think I have some idea.” She smiled knowingly. “He wasn’t shy in bed?”
I snorted. The idea was laughable and I couldn’t resist sharing this detail with her. “No. He’s a dirty talker and he’s one-hundred percent confident in everything he does. I don’t know why he thought he was nerdy and awkward, because he wasn’t.” Not at all.
“Maybe you bring it out in him.”
“Maybe,” I said, remembering at the dance when he’d referenced my pretty lips, my breasts hanging out of my dress, and my ass. “It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for.”
Ashley’s phone buzzed then. After checking it, she sighed. “That was Samantha. As much as I love talking about your love life, we need to help plan Samantha and Jack’s engagement party.”
“I didn’t realize they’d scheduled anything.” I’d been so wrapped up in Sawyer and my family, I’d neglected my friends.
“They want to plan it for June. Samantha’s mom is pushing for it. I need to contact Jack’s sister, Lucy, and see if she can come and if she wants to help.” She started scrolling through her contacts.
“I love planning parties. This will be so fun.”
“As long as Samantha’s mom isn’t too involved—she’s already talking about booking the yacht club for the party.”
“Isn’t that a bit much just for the engagement party? Maybe Samantha and Jack want to save their money for the wedding, itself.”
Ashley raised her head from her phone. “I think money was offered.”
It was hard to forget that not all parents were absentee. Samantha dealt with the opposite problem. Her mother was controlling. “Oh, nice. If you provide the money, you get to be involved in planning.”
“Right. Samantha is already stressed out so I want to help out.”
“Of course. Has she picked bridesmaids yet?” Come to think of it, Samantha had texted me last night to get together but I was so worried about the story I completely forgot to respond.
“Unofficially, you, me, Emma, and Lucy.”
“Nice. It will be good to see Lucy again. It’s been so long.” Jack’s younger sister was a few years younger than us, so I remembered her growing up, but we weren’t friends.
“Then Luke, Logan, Sawyer, and Wyatt for the groomsmen. That makes it even.”
“Wyatt Carter?” He was in Lucy’s grade and I’d seen him driving around town in a Maryland Department of Natural Resources truck. “I didn’t realize they were close.”
“Apparently, Luke and Sawyer work closely with him because of their jobs and Wyatt sees Sawyer at the college because Wyatt helps out with the River & Field Campus.”
“Oh that’s right. I do remember them talking about that the last time I saw him. Will it be awkward between Lucy and Wyatt? I think they dated after we graduated.”
“I know. She stayed in the city after college so how serious could it have been?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let me grab a refill on my coffee since we’re gabbing. You want something?”
“Yes, just a coffee.”
Ashley went to stand in line to order and a few minutes later, she handed me the to-go cup. I removed the lid to allow it to cool. “This morning has been so crazy
I haven’t even had time to drink any coffee yet.”
“I texted Lucy when I was in line and she said she’s not sure she’ll have time to plan, much less get off work to attend.”
“What? That sucks. Not even on the weekend?”
“Jack said she’s working at a marketing firm with crazy hours. Going to happy hour is a requirement if you want to get raises at this kind of place.”
“Yikes. That sounds awful.” I took a sip of my coffee. “I hope she can come. It’s her brother’s engagement party.”
“Me too. I don’t want Samantha to be stressed about her wedding. What do you have to do this morning?”
“I went into the office, but Bob is on my case about a potential story at the college. He wants something that will bring in readers, and if what I dug up is true, could have potential to be a larger story.”
“Wow. That would be great for you, right?” She took a large sip of her coffee.
I grimaced. “Sawyer might be involved, or at least impacted, if I print a story.”
“What?” She looked up from her drink in surprise. “Tell me more.”
I trusted Ashley. She’d never passed on anything I’d ever told her about a potential story and I needed a friend’s advice. A few people were standing in line but no one was seated next to us, but I still lowered my voice, “I overheard students talking about a sorority bet to sleep with professors.”
“What?” Her eyes widened. “That’s so ridiculous. They’re not serious, are they?”
“That’s what I have to find out. Apparently, the Zetas perform pranks every year, but it’s usually something dumb. Last year, they removed the boats and placed them all the place.
Ashley nodded in understanding. “Just silly pranks.”
“Right, but this year is different.”
Ashley’s finger traced the coffee lid while she thought about it. “If a professor is involved with a student, he could be fired, and isn’t Sawyer applying for tenure this year?”