Trust in Me: A Fake Relationship Opposites Attract Romance (All I Want Book 4)

by Lea Coll

  “Have you talked to Sawyer yet?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did you write it?”

  “I didn’t. I mean I did, but I didn’t print it. I didn’t mean for anyone to see my notes. It’s complicated. My boss took my notes and wrote the article. It wasn’t me. My story was Owen’s history of getting fired, not the stupid bet.”

  “You better talk to Sawyer before someone else does.”

  “That’s where I’m going.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Then I was rushing down the street to campus for the second time today. I’d run out without my purse. When I saw that article in Bob’s hands, all I could think about was getting to Sawyer. Telling him the truth. Hoping he’d believe me.

  I practically ran across the quad and up the steps to the Gibson Center and the steps to Sawyer’s office. I skidded to a stop outside his door where Sawyer was reading something on his computer. Please don’t let it be—

  “Stella, I’m surprised you’re here.” His face was tight with anger and I knew he’d seen it.

  “I had to talk to you about something.” My shoulders slumped. I was too late.

  “Is it this?” Then he turned his screen toward me and the headline read in big black letters History professors sleeping with sorority girls. All part of a bet.

  I winced even though I’d already seen it. “That’s not my story. You have to understand.” My words sounded weak and pathetic even to my own ears.

  Then he pointed at the byline. “It clearly says Stella Lewis. It’s your story.”

  His face was tight with anger, his eyes closed off. I’d never seen him look at me this way.

  “Sawyer, you have to believe me. I didn’t write that story.”

  “So these aren’t your words?” His eyes dared me to deny it.

  “Well, technically they’re my notes, but I didn’t write an article. I dictated my notes about the bet. I never meant for it to become a printed story. I was researching something bigger than this.”

  “What could be bigger than the history professors sleeping with their students?” He slammed his hand down on the desk causing me to jump. “It doesn’t say my name, but it doesn’t have to. How many professors are there? Owen and I will be the first ones accused. I’ve already received calls from the dean and the president. Jesus, Stella. How could you do this to me?”

  I’d never seen Sawyer anything other than calm and controlled. “I didn’t. You have to believe me. I was researching Owen’s history, how he’d been fired from other universities for sleeping with his students. I didn’t want to write about the bet.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s out there now. My job is on the line.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t deal with this right now. I have to meet with them and tell them something. You know they won’t believe me. You know how this works.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sawyer. I’ll do anything to fix this.” I stepped toward him wanting to touch him, wanting to soothe him, but I hesitated, the distance between us so much greater than his desk.

  “Don’t. You’ve done enough. Stay away from me and don’t interfere in my life or my job anymore.” He was silent and then said quieter, “I knew this would happen.”

  Then the words he’d used to describe me at Ashley’s barbeque came flooding back to me. Had he lied when he’d said he’d been mistaken about me? Had he always thought I was flighty and impulsive? “What do you mean you knew this would happen?” I asked slowly my eyes narrowing on him.

  “I knew you were impulsive, didn’t think things through, but I never thought you’d do something like this. Did you even care for me at all?”

  Pain sliced through my chest. I thought he’d seen me and appreciated me for who I was. “Did you care for me?” I asked quietly. How could he think so little of me if he did?

  “You need to leave.”

  “I care about you, Sawyer, and I came here wanting to fix it. You don’t know the whole story.” Now I wasn’t so sure it was worth fixing. Not if he thought that way about me.

  “Everything I need to know is in this article.” His hand slapped down on his monitor.

  I turned so he wouldn’t see my tears. I didn’t want him to see how his words had hurt me. I’d worried that he’d cheat on me or my inability to trust would be our demise. I never imagined he still thought of me as impulsive and flighty.

  I walked away, because he was the best thing that had ever happened to me and I had completely screwed everything up. If only I’d talked to him before this came out he’d understand. He wouldn’t be saying those words or looking at me in disgust.

  I walked slowly down the hall, hoping Sawyer would come out and tell me he’d made a mistake. That his harsh words were spoken out of anger and he didn’t really think I was impulsive. That he wanted to talk to me to hear my side of the story. That he wanted to let me help him, but he didn’t.

  AS I SLOWLY WALKED DOWN the steps from Gibson Center my brain was foggy but I knew I needed to do something to make this right for Sawyer. I had to do something. I needed to call Owen’s first employer. It was my only option, but I didn’t have my phone. I’d run all the way here with nothing. I needed to get back to the paper before the office was closed for the day because everything was in there—my keys, my purse, my phone, my laptop. And I no longer trusted Bob. I couldn’t dictate notes on the network anymore.

  I hurried across campus and through town until I came to my office, rushed in, grabbed my stuff and was back out the door. I didn’t want to stick around and risk Bob overhearing me and my plan. I wouldn’t dig into Cindy’s background or slut-shame her like he wanted.

  Ducking back into my car, my office for the day, I frantically dialed every number at the first college until I got someone on the phone from the dean’s office. I wanted to speak to someone in an official capacity now that the article had hit the papers.

  “Hi, I’m Stella Lewis, reporter for the Kent County News.”

  “What is this in reference to? The dean rarely speaks to reporters,” the woman said.

  “I’m calling because one of the professors at Washington College worked at your school six years ago. Owen Mason?”

  “I’m not allowed to discuss prior employees or their history here.”

  “I figured that but it’s come to my attention that he’s been fired from at least one other school for sleeping with his students.” I waited to see if she’d respond but when she was quiet, I continued. “There’s a report of him doing the same thing here at Washington College. There’s an article running tomorrow morning in the paper and I’m writing a follow-up piece on colleges’ practice of covering professors’ transgressions and allowing them to move to another school with a glowing recommendation.” I had no idea if the recommendations were glowing but I figured the stronger language got my point across.

  “I told you we’re not allowed to discuss prior employees.”

  I had no intention of backing down. “I want to talk to the dean or the president because I believe his employers knew this happened, fired him, but allowed him to move to another school where he could continue doing the same thing. Does your college want to go down as one that covered this up? This story has potential to be picked up by the Associated Press.”

  I was bluffing but I hoped she didn’t know that. The woman was quiet for so long I thought she’d hung up. “Hold for Dean Price, please.”

  I let out a long sigh. I’d gotten past the first hurdle.

  “Dean Price, may I help you?” a man asked.

  I relayed everything I’d told the first lady to answer the phone. I could practically hear him weighing his options through the phone. The only thing worse than the initial cover-up was continuing to deny any wrongdoing once the story blew up. I knew he’d talk with the right amount of pressure.

  “This is going to get picked up by the Associated Press. You can get ahead of this story or wait for it to find you. Your choice.” I was coming on str
ong but I needed this information now if I had any chance of fixing things for Sawyer.

  “Can you hold while I pull up Mr. Mason’s file? I want to make sure I know the full story.”

  “Of course.” I waited a few minutes, biting my nails.

  “Ms. Lewis?”

  “Fine. Yes, he was fired for his relationship with a student. Only one came forward. It’s common practice to provide them with a recommendation based on their work not the infraction for legal reasons.”

  “I understand that.” It wasn’t anything I hadn’t already suspected but it still made the school look bad. “Do I have permission to print everything you’ve told me today?”

  “You do but only with my statement.”

  It wasn’t unexpected. Colleges were all about public perception and spinning stories. “Which is?”

  “George Washington College deeply regrets any harm caused by Owen Mason. As soon as the inappropriate relationship with his student was discovered he was terminated. We greatly regret any harm this caused to his future students in not disclosing this information.”

  Was that enough? I didn’t think so. I got that schools could be sued by prior employees, but which was worse? Which was more problematic for the school: public outcry, new victims, or a disgruntled employee? I would think the employee was the least of their issues.

  Once I finished taking notes and got off the phone with Dean Price, I dictated the new article with the working title: Colleges Dump their Problematic Professors onto Other Unsuspecting Schools. I would post a poll just like Bob did, asking what people thought the school should do, with a link to the new article. I had no power to get the article printed, but I could post whatever I wanted online at least. Now the question was when to do it? As soon as possible, or wait until the first article was printed tomorrow? From the paper’s perspective the next day would have the most impact. But what would be best for Sawyer? I knew without a doubt that writing this second article wasn’t enough. I needed to fix things for him. But how?

  I looked at the calendar, realizing my appointment with Dean Strauss was the next day for my online media class proposal. I hadn’t worked on it at all lately. I’d need to pull an all-nighter to put everything together and to prepare my presentation. I didn’t want to talk to Sawyer until I had something concrete to show him.

  I finally fell asleep at three AM, my syllabus and outline completed. I had recurring dreams where I pleaded for Sawyer to listen to me but he’d refuse and walk away. Over and over again, I watched Sawyer walk away from me.

  I WOKE UP, SHOWERED, AND put on my only suit. I wanted to dress the part. I didn’t know how my job would work out at the paper if I couldn’t trust Bob. If he would continue to require me to write stories I didn’t feel right about or before they were properly researched. The fact that he’d stolen my notes and used my name on the byline really got to me. So this meeting with the dean was more important than ever. I might need a new job very soon.

  My phone buzzed frequently with updates on the newspaper’s poll Bob posted and well-meaning messages from my friends checking up on me, but nothing from Sawyer. Not that I expected anything. I’d hurt him in the worst way imaginable. I might have cost him his job and there was no coming back from that. All I could do was try and fix it the best I could.

  In the end, Sawyer would have to make a decision. I tried not to think about the fact that he might have already made his decision and had no intention of changing it.

  I arrived at the office early to post the new poll and added a second question: Do you think Dean Price’s statement from George Washington College is enough? What do you think needs to be done in this situation? I posted a link to the new article focusing on Owen Mason’s history and emailed it to Bob, hoping he’d print it too. I didn’t have high hopes. I walked to the campus for my nine-thirty AM meeting with Dean Strauss. When I passed Ms. Gladys’s home she was already on the porch. Seeing I still had time before my meeting I stopped to greet her, “Morning Ms. Gladys.”

  “Stella, what are you doing out walking this early?”

  “I have a meeting at the college. Just wanted to clear my head first.” I walked up the steps to her porch and sat in the rocking chair next to hers, remembering the last time I was here. When she told me how Sawyer and Luke had painted her shutters and cleaned her porch for her. How she tried to set us up. However misguided she was, it was a good memory. I wished I could go back to that day and start over. If I’d never overheard Laura’s conversation about the bet, none of this would have happened.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I closed my eyes, having a hard time believing everything that had happened in the last few weeks, the last few days. I’d had everything and now I had nothing. I said, “How do you know something’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you without a smile on your face. Whether it’s real or manufactured, it’s there. Today you look like someone kicked your puppy.”

  “I don’t even have a puppy,” I said, finally smiling. It was good to talk to someone else. I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom I’d felt as soon as I saw that online poll I hadn’t written.

  “You know what I mean. Tell me.”

  I relayed everything that had happened between me and Sawyer since the day she had me take him a basket of muffins.

  Smiling, she said, “I knew those muffins would do it.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “I did. You two are perfect for each other and I have every faith that you’ll figure this out. You have a good heart. You mean well and Sawyer has to see that.”

  “Does he?” But I knew he didn’t. I was trying to relieve my guilt by attempting to fix the situation. This is what I always did. I planned, I schemed, I made things better so the people around me would like me. I’d seen the devastated look on his face when I left his office yesterday. “I messed up.”

  Her eyes were sympathetic and shone with years of experience in life and love. “I know it seems like a big deal right now, but you’ll move past it. I promise.”

  “How?”

  “Well, you’re printing a follow-up article and now you’re meeting with the dean.”

  “Yeah, for my proposed course.”

  She gave me a pointed look. “You have a meeting with the dean.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  She waited quietly until I’d figured out her meaning.

  “Oh.” I could use my meeting with Dean Strauss to talk about Sawyer. To fix it. “You’re a genius.” I hadn’t even thought about how I’d have the dean in a room to myself. He could refuse to talk to me but I’d never know unless I tried. And I was pretty good at convincing people of things. I could do this. I had to for Sawyer.

  “And before you go. Let me give you a piece of advice.”

  “Sure.” I could use it right now.

  “I’m not your mother or your grandmother, but you’ve always needed a motherly figure. I hope I’ve been that for you since your grandmother died.”

  I nodded because she had been. “You have.”

  “Be yourself. If Sawyer is the right guy for you then that will be enough.”

  “That’s it?” I was hoping for something more groundbreaking than that. Being myself had never worked out for me in the past so I was highly doubtful.

  “The most profound things are the simplest sometimes.”

  “That’s true, I guess.”

  “Don’t be what Sawyer needs. Don’t be what your parents need. Be you. And everything will fall into place.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t sure I understood, but maybe it would make sense once I had time to think about it. Right now, I needed to speak with Dean Strauss.

  Ms. Gladys stood when I did and hugged me. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I need it.”

  I continued walking toward campus considering the best way to approach Dean Strauss about Sawyer. Start with my course first or the bet? Which was more important? Which would make the most sense?
I’d lead with Sawyer in case it was the only opportunity I’d get to speak to the dean. I had to make him listen.

  I waited in the sitting room outside the dean’s office, feeling a little like I had all those times outside the high school principal’s office, where I found myself frequently, since I had been the class clown. I wiped my sweaty hands on my skirt and took deep breaths. I’d come a long way since I’d covered up things with silly antics. I was a professional now. Ms. Gladys’s words floated through my head on repeat. Be yourself.

  “Dean Strauss will see you now.”

  “Thank you,” I said to the secretary as I walked past her into the large office.

  Dean Strauss rose. “Thank you for meeting with me today, Stella. It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

  I shook his outstretched hand. “It is. How are your twins doing? Applying for colleges yet?”

  “I can’t believe I have daughters graduating from high school next year. Where has the time gone?” He gestured for me to sit and waited before he sat in his overstuffed chair.

  “It sure does fly,” I agreed.

  “More so with kids. Now you’re here to wow me with your class proposal.”

  I took a deep breath. This was my chance to speak with him and when I was done he might not want to hear about my class proposal. That was a chance I’d have to take in order to help Sawyer. “Actually, I’d like to talk to you about something else first.”

  He raised his brows.

  “There was a story in the paper this morning about the sorority girls’ bet involving some of your professors.”

  “Yes, I saw that. We’re investigating that now. I’m sure you’re aware of our no-fraternization with students policy.”

  I shifted, knowing this was a possibility, but I’d hoped the story hadn’t gotten too big yet. “First of all, I’d like to apologize because I did not write that story. I had a different one in mind. And I certainly would have spoken with you or a representative of the college before I printed anything. I researched and found that one of your professors had been fired from his last two jobs for sleeping with his students and I know he’s done it here. The women provided their stories to me but would like to remain anonymous if possible.”