by Elle Kennedy
“There’s me. I’m the evidence. I saw him groping you. I heard you say no. Loud and clear.”
“Summer, you know there’s no point,” she says bleakly. “The cops will give him a slap on the wrist. They probably wouldn’t even charge him.”
I have a sinking feeling she’s right. I bite my lip as I work over our options in my head. There aren’t many, but one rises to the forefront of my brain. “I think I know who won’t give him a slap on the wrist,” I say slowly.
“Who?”
I take her hand and say, “Come with me.”
“We can’t just show up at the dean’s house,” Nora hisses more than an hour later. She’s in the passenger’s seat of my Audi, and she’s been protesting this course of action since the moment I told her.
“We’re not just showing up,” I remind her as I drive through the wrought-iron gates at the entrance of David Prescott’s property. The dean lives in a gorgeous mansion in Brookline, a wealthy neighborhood outside of Boston. I’m pretty sure Tom Brady and Gisele live around here too. I suddenly have a vision of Gisele jogging past the dean’s house, noticing my fabulous outfit, and inviting me over to her house for a drink. Oh my God. That would blow my frigging mind.
Unfortunately, we’re not here to celebrity sightsee. We’re here to report an attempted sexual assault.
“My father called ahead to tell him we were coming, remember?” Because my dad is awesome. Never mind terrifying when he needs to be.
And I guess Dean Prescott called in reinforcements as well, because he’s not the only one waiting for us on the doorstep. Hal Richmond is with him, and he’s the one who greets us.
“Ms. Ridgeway. Summer.” As usual, his “accent” contains a patronizing note. “What’s all this about?”
I let out a breath. “Something happened tonight, and, well, Nora doesn’t want to go to the police, but I told her I couldn’t in good conscience let it go unreported.”
Prescott’s eyes widen. “The police?” He opens the door wider and gestures for us to come inside.
Nora shoots me a panicky look.
I squeeze her arm. “It’s fine. I promise.”
As we follow the two men into a living room the size of my townhouse in Hastings, I dial my dad’s number on my phone. He answers immediately. He’s been waiting for my call.
“Hey, Dad, we just got here. I’m putting you on speakerphone.” I glance at Prescott. “Dean, you know my father. I hope you don’t mind if he listens in.”
I see Richmond’s lips tighten. I assume the word cloud in his snotty brain is now flashing “Preferential treatment!”
He can eat a dick.
“I know this is weird, but I’m from a family of lawyers,” I explain to the men. “I’m not allowed to have any important conversations without legal counsel.”
A chuckle floats out of my phone. “You got that right, Princess.”
Nora seems to be fighting a smile. I’m surprised when it actually breaks free, and it’s genuine. “Family of lawyers?” she murmurs to me. “Me too.”
“Look at that,” I murmur back. “And you thought we didn’t have anything in common.”
Maybe if she’d given me a chance instead of assuming I was an airhead, we could’ve been friends. But deep down I know that will never be the case. I’m a super-jealous person, and the fact that she went on one date with Fitz means I’ll always want to claw her eyes out.
But I also watched her almost get raped tonight, and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.
With Prescott and Richmond’s rapt attention on me, I repeat the story of what happened tonight. Nora fills in her side of it, explaining how Laurie bought her two drinks and flirted with her all night until finally making his move after everyone had gone home. Both men wear murderous expressions when I mention where Laurie’s hand had been when I opened the bathroom door.
“So I karate chopped him and—”
There’s a choked laugh from my dad.
“Daddy,” I scold.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. It’s just that you took karate for three months before you quit. And you were twelve. I can’t believe you still remember any of the moves.”
“I don’t. Just that one,” I admit.
“Well, it came in handy tonight,” he says, and his pride practically pours out of the phone speaker.
“Anyway.” I finish the story by admitting that this wasn’t the first time Laurie made a move on a student. Nora stares at me in surprise as I reveal, “I had a meeting in his office and he tried to kiss me.”
My father roars. “I’m going to kill—”
“Daddy, hush! You’re a defense lawyer. You can’t threaten to kill people. And he didn’t push the issue when I told him I wasn’t interested. Tonight he’d had a lot to drink, so maybe that contributed to his behavior.” I level Prescott and Richmond with a stern glare. “But he can’t get away with it. We can’t have someone like that teaching at Briar.”
“Absolutely not,” Prescott agrees, while Richmond gives a grim nod. “Don’t worry, ladies. Briar will be taking swift action. And, Nora, please remember you have access to counseling at the student health center. I encourage you to take advantage of that.”
She nods weakly.
My dad speaks up. “As for contacting law enforcement, obviously nobody can force you to press charges, Nora—you need to do whatever you feel is right. However, should you change your mind, I will gladly serve as your counsel. Summer will give you my contact info. You can call me any time, day or night.”
She bites her lip, her gaze slightly awed. “Thank you, sir.”
Our late-night visit to the dean’s house comes to an end. Nora and I thank them for listening, and as the men walk us out, I take my father off speakerphone and murmur, “Love you, Daddy. Thank you.”
“Love you too, Princess. Oh, and by the way, I looked into that matter you’d asked about while I was waiting for your call. I didn’t do it before, because…well, because your mom said it would be enabling your craziness.”
“Dad!”
“Her words, not mine. Blame Mom.”
“But you looked into what?” I prompt.
He answers with, “West Yorkshire.”
I wrinkle my nose. “West Yorkshire?”
“That’s where the fellow you’re overly interested in hails from. Leeds, West Yorkshire. England.”
My gaze flies to Richmond, who’s walking ahead of us. He’s actually British? I can’t even.
“Thanks for telling me,” I say glumly. “Love you.”
When we reach the front door, Richmond stops me from exiting by saying, “Summer, a word?”
Sum-ah. Dammit. I hate being wrong.
“I’ll wait in the car,” Nora says.
I nod. “I’ll only be a minute.” I wait until she’s out of earshot before crossing my arms. “What do you want?”
“To apologize.” There’s genuine remorse in his eyes. “I’ve been behaving like a bit of a wanker, haven’t I?”
“Just a bit,” I say flatly.
“I must confess—I went into our relationship with a hefty bias.”
“You think?”
He gives me a look. “May I continue?”
“Sorry.”
“I didn’t grow up with money, Summer. I worked myself to the bone in order to attend university, as I wasn’t offered a scholarship. Over the years, I suppose I developed resentment toward people like you, the ones who come from wealthy families that can pull strings for them. I didn’t get into my first choice uni. Nobody called in a favor for me.” He hangs his head. “I’m sorry for my behavior. And I’m especially sorry because you tried to warn me about Professor Laurie. You tried to tell me how uncomfortable he made you, and I dismissed those concerns.”
“Yes. You did.” I can feel the disapproval radiating from my pores.
“And you have no idea how deeply I regret that. It’s ghastly enough, what Ms. Ridgeway endured tonight. But if
something had happened to you because I’d ignored your claims?” He shudders. “I’m terribly sorry.”
I exhale. “It’s done now. And I hope that in the future, if a student comes to you with these kinds of concerns, you actually heed them.”
“I will. I promise. And I also promise to be a little friendlier during our meetings.” He chuckles dryly. “But please, don’t expect me to transform into a warm and fuzzy creature overnight. I am British, after all.”
34
Fitz
I’ve been reduced to a basket case by the time I hear the key turn in the lock. It’s nearly midnight. I left the party the moment Summer called to tell me what happened to Nora and that they were on their way to see the dean. I would’ve hopped in my car and met her there, but she insisted I stay home. Something about too many cooks in the kitchen.
Apparently, her father attended the meeting via speakerphone, which is a relief. I feel better knowing someone close to Summer was there to support her.
Now I dive off the couch and take her in my arms before she can even shut the front door. “I’m so glad you’re back,” I groan. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she assures me.
“How’s Nora?” I ask as Summer unbuttons her coat.
“She’s fine too. I karate chopped the bastard before he could do any real harm.”
I take the coat from her cold hands and hang it up for her. “And the dean?”
“He said he’d take care of it.”
“He freaking better. There’s still no chance of Nora going to the cops, though?”
“Even my dad said there’s no point.” Summer runs both hands through her blonde hair. “I hate this world we live in, Fitzy, where shitty people can get away with shitty things.”
“I know,” I say soberly. Shitty things do happen, but I’m confident Erik Laurie will face real consequences.
Only last week I was reading online about three professors from major institutions who had been fired in the last month alone. One of them had even had tenure. Sexual harassment is a huge topic in the news these days—no way will Briar let something as serious as this slide.
I press my face to Summer’s neck and breathe in my favorite scent on earth. Chanel No. 5. The only scent a lady should ever own, someone told me once. “I was worried when you told me what happened.”
“I was worried when I saw it happen.” She takes my hand and leads me toward the stairs. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. I just want to take a hot shower, and then get in bed and catch up on The Bachelor.”
My mouth tips up in a wry grin. I never dreamed I’d fall for a girl who’s into cheesy reality shows. Ever.
But luckily, that’s just one facet to Summer Heyward-Di Laurentis.
There is a plethora of other sides to her. The side that teases her older brothers. The side that adores her parents. The side that instantly becomes best friends with people, because she goes into every relationship with a full plate of trust. Other people remain guarded when they meet new people, but not Summer. Summer is trusting and open.
And she’s smart, in spite of her writing difficulties. Her vocabulary rivals mine. She listens to longwinded fantasy tomes on audiobook and actually discusses them with me. I’ve never had a girlfriend who could sit there and dissect Sir Nornan’s journey to the Glass Forest and recite all the reasons he was stupid to use the angel’s sword, prematurely revealing its existence to the cave dwellers that protect the Great Beyond.
So yes, Summer is everything.
She’s my muse. My sketches of her are already being transferred onto my computer to create the assets for the new video game I’m designing.
She’s my laughter, because everything she says makes me laugh.
She’s my trigger, because holy shit do we scream at each other sometimes. I never knew I was capable of expressing raw emotion, didn’t think I even had it in me.
She’s my desire, because I can’t take a step without wanting to be inside her.
But most of all, she’s my heart.
“I love you,” I tell her as we walk down the hall to my room.
“Love you too,” she whispers.
Her gaze flickers briefly to Hunter’s door.
“He’s not home,” I murmur, and I know we’re both thinking about how much we hate that our roommate is still pissed at us.
But Hunter will get over it. And if he doesn’t, then I’ll take that L. With a heavy heart, of course, but I’ve gained something I know can heal the pain of the loss. I’ve gained Summer.
For the first time ever, I truly feel like I’m living life instead of hiding in the shadows. My folks can keep hating each other, but the next time one of them calls to spew their hatred, I’ll make it clear that I don’t want that negativity poisoning my life anymore. Even if it means hanging up the phone. Hell, I had no qualms hanging up on a billionaire earlier.
When I was waiting for Summer to come home from the dean’s house, I did take the time to think about Kamal’s job offer. And I’ve concluded that maybe he does need someone like me at Orcus Games. Someone who won’t kiss his ass. Someone who’ll tell him when he’s being a jackass. So I’m toying with the offer, but I’ll decide later.
Right now, I want to take a shower with the woman I love and then climb under the covers and watch a silly reality show with her.
“You have the worst taste in in television shows,” I inform her as we enter my room.
Her green eyes dance mischievously. “But you love me anyway, right?”
I tug her toward me, my lips seeking hers. “Yup.” I give her a slow, teasing kiss. “I love you anyway.”
The End
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Exclusive Excerpt: The Risk
Exclusive sneak peek of THE RISK, the next standalone book in the Briar U series. Coming February 2019!
Brenna
My date is three minutes late. Now, I’m not a total bitch. Usually I’ll give guys a five-minute window. I can forgive five minutes of tardiness.
At seven minutes, I still might be somewhat receptive, especially if the lateness is accompanied by a heads-up call or text informing me he’s going to be late. Traffic is an evil mistress. Sometimes she fucks you.
At ten minutes, my patience would be running thin. And if the inconsiderate ass is both ten minutes tardy and didn’t call? Later, jerk. I’m walking right out the door.
At fifteen minutes, shame on me. Why the hell am I still at the restaurant?
Or, in this particular case, the diner.
I’m sitting in a booth at Della’s, the ’50s-themed diner in the small town of Hastings, which is where I’m calling home for the next two years. Luckily, I don’t have to call my father’s home ‘home.’ Dad and I might live in the same town, but before I agreed to transfer to Briar University (where he coaches the men’s hockey team), I made it clear I wouldn’t be moving back in with him. I already left that nest. No way am I flying back to it and subjecting myself to Dad’s overprotectiveness and terrible cooking again.
“Can I get you another coffee, hon?” The waitress, a curly-haired woman wearing a white-and-blue polyester uniform, eyes me sympathetically. Yeah. I’m pretty sure she knows I’ve been ditched.
“No, thanks. Just the bill, please.”
As she walks off, I pick up my phone and shoot a quick text off to my friend Summer. This is all her fault and therefore she needs to face my wrath.
ME: He stood me up.
Summer answers instantly, as if she’s been sitting by her phone waiting for a report. Actually, forget ‘as if.’ She totally has. My new friend is unapologetically nosy.
SUMMER: OMG! NO!!
ME: Yes
SUMMER: What. a. dick. I am so so so so sorry, Bee.
ME: Meh. Part of me’s not surprised. He’s a football pla
yer. They’re notorious douchecanoes
SUMMER: I thought Jules was different
ME: U thought wrong
Three dots appear to indicate she’s typing a response, but I already know what it will be. Another long-winded apology, which I’m not in the mood to read at the moment. I’m not in the mood for anything but paying for my coffee, walking back to my tiny apartment, and taking off my bra.
Stupid football player. I actually put makeup on for this jerk. Yes, it was just supposed to be an evening coffee date, but I still made an effort.
I bend my head as I rummage around in my wallet for small bills. When a shadow falls over the tabletop, I assume it’s the waitress returning with my check.
I assume wrong.
“Jensen,” drawls an insolent male voice. “Got stood up, eh?”
And then, to my horror, the very last person I want to see slides into the other side of the booth.
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Other Titles by Elle Kennedy
If you enjoyed Summer and Fitz’s story, make sure to check out the next title in the Briar U series, as well as the Off-Campus series that started it all:
The Risk (Coming Soon)
The Deal (Garrett’s book)
The Mistake (Logan’s book)
The Score (Dean’s book)
The Goal (Tucker’s book)
For other retailer links and information about print or audio versions of these titles, visit the series pages on my website.
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