Reservation (Preservation Series) (16 page)

I froze with my back to him as water from the faucet overflowed and spilled down the sides of the coffee pot in my hand.

“Name ring a bell?”

“What do you want to know?” I asked with hesitation. I attempted to feign a calm demeanor as I poured the water into the coffee maker and spooned grounds into the basket.

“Her name popped up on The Daily Fill this morning. Mostly rumors, the gossip mill working overtime. She hasn’t gone to the press herself...yet. But I don’t doubt it will be long before she does. I need to know some specifics, so I know what we’re dealing with here.”

“There are no specifics. We fucked around for a while, and that was that. It’s been over for a while now. End of.”

“I’m aware of that, but there are some rumors circulating that suggest you two frequented certain...establishments… together. In addition to your on-campus rendezvous.”

I moved to pour my coffee. “And?”

“And it’s opened up a whole can of worms.”

Lifting the mug to my lips, I turned to face him, my face stone. All of this shit was in my past, and that was exactly where I intended to keep it, no matter what. “What are you saying, Danny?”

“I’m saying the media thrives on this stuff, Ryan. To them, it’s scandalous. They’ll eat it up. I’m not saying the public will dislike you for it by any means, but it will certainly paint a different picture of you. One I don’t believe we want to paint at the time being. Not right before this book tour.”

“Well there’s not a damn thing I can do about that, is there?” I flexed my fingers around the coffee mug handle. “This is my past. You said you were aware of it, and that they would dig it up. Well, they’re digging it up. You, Bob, and Neda are the ones who wanted me to play celebrity. This is your mess, now. Can’t you take care of it?”

Danny stood and sauntered over to me, his expression unreadable. “Take care of it?”

“Yeah, find a way to keep it quiet.”

“You won’t be able to control what the media says about you, Ryan. We can do our best to manipulate what is said, but that’s all. Even if you were a saint, they would find something scandalous to pin on you. They’d use the fact that you were a saint to make you a bad guy, do you get that?”

“Yeah, I get that. Look, please just figure out a way to keep this shit under the radar, will you? Talk to Neda, maybe she can help. I don’t do...those things anymore. I’m in a monogamous relationship now. I don’t want that shit in my present, don’t want all that following me around. I’m a different man now.”

“I’ll do what I can, but there are no guarantees.”

I sipped my coffee, eyeing him over the brim of the cup. I was suddenly alert and ready to resume our conversation from last night. “So you came over here at eight a.m. to tell me I’m screwed? Funny, you didn’t seem concerned about tarnishing my image last night when you ambushed me with Melanie outside the limo. I won’t forget that bullshit, Danny. And I won’t put up with it again. I’m just a fucking writer. I’m nobody. I have no desire to put myself through that shit for the sake of ‘celebrity’.” I used one hand to draw quote marks in the air. “Thought I made that clear.”

“We discussed this last night, Ryan. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was bringing Melanie as your date, but it truly was a last-minute decision, and it was far from image tarnishing. These details about your past, on the other hand—”

“I don’t care. I won’t be discussing them. Not with you, not with anyone.” I took another sip, letting it sit in my mouth for a second.

He turned for the door, chuckling. That patronizing tone of his was really starting to grate on my nerves. “I should’ve known you’d be difficult. Okay, well, if you change your mind and decide you want to share any other details about you and this Amy Mercer, give me a call. Unlike the pregnancy claim by Ms. Anders, it’s clear there is truth to these rumors, which means we need to do all we can to keep the upper hand and calm the storm. It’s best if we address them publically before she or any of her sources do first. Just keep that in mind. And I hope for your sake that what happened with those girls at Henson’s won’t happen again, because I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to rescue you a second time.”

“I won’t need rescuing again. Nothing happened with those girls. They cornered me. You showed up just in time.”

“Yeah, sure. See you later, Ryan.”

The second he was gone, I slumped against the counter and felt my shoulders sag. It was days like this I wondered if my past would ever truly stay where it belonged.

Or whether it would follow me until my present was choking in its cloud of dust.

***

The rest of the day was packed. After my morning wake-up call from Danny, I had enough time to race to the university, grab a swim and some breakfast, and get to my first class. I still hadn’t heard from Kate, and I was on the verge of losing it. She hadn’t even texted me back or left a voice mail. My mind migrated from images of her accidentally sleeping in and missing work, to those of her being swept away and drowning in the Caribbean Sea. I pushed the irrational thoughts out of my head.

I was about to grab some lunch before my afternoon session when I was summoned to speak with Dean Sinclair. I stepped into his office and took a seat, then planted my feet wide and leaned back in the green leather chair, resting my arms casually on my lap. Minutes ticked by until he finally came in to join me, glancing at me over his glasses as he made his way around to the other side of his desk.

“Ryan, I would ask how you are, but that seems a senseless question, don’t you think? The news says it all. You’re on cloud nine, no doubt.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Yeah, this guy really didn’t like me.

I straightened in the seat, propping one leg on my thigh. “I guess you could say that. How are you, Mr. Sinclair?”

He leaned in over his desk and pressed his fingers together into a steeple under his chin. “I’m well, thank you. Forgive me, Ryan, for being so forward, but I doubt much would shock you in that department.”

I bristled.

“So, I’ll just cut right to the chase, shall I?”

“Sure, be my guest.”
Asshole
.

“This is quite unconventional, what I’m about to propose, here. It’s usually something the entire board discusses with you. However, due to time restraints we feel we’re up against, we—the board and university representatives—have already discussed the matter privately, and the task of speaking to you was left up to me. We felt it was best to keep everything as quiet as possible, and we wanted our proposal to be low key, presented to you in a non-threatening manner.”

My teeth sank into my bottom lip, and the material of my dress shirt began to itch my skin. “This sounds serious.”

“It is serious, but it doesn’t have to cause a scene. It all depends on your response to our offer.”

“Your offer?”

“Yes. Simply put, your new star status has caused much commotion as of late. As you can probably guess, the need and the cost to provide additional security both in and out of your classroom has caused us a bit of an inconvenience, but that’s certainly the least of our concern. Your presence has become a distraction, not only for your students, but for others on campus. And given your...reputation on campus, the buzz amongst students and faculty alike is only serving to add to that distraction. Every rumor—whether fact or fiction—that has circulated about you since you began teaching at this university is now amplified, and it’s reflecting poorly on our institution.”

“With all due respect, sir, I would think that any exposure for your school would be beneficial.”

“Let me be frank.” He leaned back and clasped his hands together on his lap. “Your very name is synonymous with scandal. You’ve been thought by students and staff to be a womanizing, conniving playboy both on campus and off. The media is now beginning to paint a similar picture, drawing on the rumors circulated here, which is aligning us with your name and all things associated with it. As you can imagine, that is not ideal exposure.”

“That is beyond my control, sir. To be fair, I’ve cleaned up my act since your last disciplinary meeting with me. I’ve been committed to my students and desire nothing more than to leave my term here on a good note, with the utmost professionalism.”

“Cleaned up your act?” His eyebrows rose and voice hardened. “Do you consider seeing a student by the name of Kate Parker ‘cleaning up your act’?”

Oh, shit.

“Everyone is aware of the affair, Mr. Campbell. I did not step in or bring the matter up until now for the mere fact that unlike your other student affairs, it seems you’ve been decent enough to keep the relationship relatively under the radar and off campus, as we expect you to, per our fraternization policy.”

I inwardly cringed, recalling more than one escapade with Kate in the administrative lounge when we first got together. For the most part, though, we put a stop to any on-campus contact not long after. The memory of once hoisting Kate from the copy machine, to the couch, then back to the copy machine flickered through my mind. A smile teased my lips, but I wrestled it into submission.

Wrong or not, those flings in the lounge were pretty damn hot.

“For the record, Kate Parker is no longer my student. I can’t take back what I’ve done, Mr. Sinclair. I can only do my best to set things right for the remainder of my time here. So, what are you saying? You’d like me to leave, is that it?”

“Yes. We’d like you to consider this your last week teaching here. Your students will be notified and everything will be handled as quickly and quietly as possible. A replacement has already been arranged, so nothing will interfere with your students’ semester. In exchange for your swift resignation, we’ll provide the remainder of your salary along with severance pay.”

I laughed to myself. Yeah, nothing would interfere, except for the fact that they were used to me and have been preparing for their final according to my teaching style and syllabus specifications.

“The semester’s nearly over,” I said, turning my palms up in an attempt to make the man see some sense. “Another month or so, and you’ll never see me step foot on this campus again. Is it really necessary to change to a different instructor when they have been preparing for my final all this time?”

The look on his face told me it was more than necessary.

“The sooner the better. Your students will simply resume your lesson plan with a different instructor. Rest assured, there will be no decrease in quality where their course is concerned, and I’m sure we’d all enjoy a collective sigh of relief when things return to normal.”

My life was anything but normal, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be any more normal when I left campus, but what did he care? In his eyes, I was just a womanizing asshole. Toxic garbage he wanted to dispose of as quickly and as discreetly as possible. As much as the thought pissed me off, I couldn’t blame the guy for the impression he had of me. I’d done it all to myself, and this was a classic example of my past sneaking up to bite me in the ass.

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. When would you like me to leave?”

“You can pack up your things immediately and tend to your afternoon class. Today will be your last day.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” He stood and extended a hand, his body straight as a board. I accepted. His grip was rigid and clearly offered strictly out of courtesy. “All the best to you with your current and future writing endeavors. I’m sure the entertainment world is better suited to your...preferences.”

I withdrew my hand as if he’d bit me and turned for the door, choking back an emotion I wasn’t unfamiliar with.

Anger.

8. CEMENT

The city lights blurred all around me, and each bout of laughter that drifted from the nearby restaurants out into the streets filled me with a sense of loneliness. The scent of freshly baked bread, spirits, and a hint of saltwater struck me as I strolled down the sidewalk, suit jacket hanging lifelessly over my shoulder. The cool air danced over my skin, my shirt sleeves rolled up to my elbows and top buttons loosened at my chest. My tie was opened and hanging around my collar, my feet tired from walking. I‘d lost track of how long I’d been wandering, and now the city was rich with night life.

When I’d finished my last class that afternoon, I’d stood with my box of belongings at the classroom door, staring out at the empty wooden seats, memorizing the way they looked, dressed in sunlight from the windows. Who knew leaving behind the teaching profession would have such a profound effect on me. Hell, it was my last semester, anyway. I’d been mentally prepared to put an end to the career. But something about being dismissed early and seeing those empty seats stirred things in me.

I was no longer just a normal professor, teaching for a living. There would be no more Jay Millers coming to ask me for advice. No longer would I be able to enjoy the anonymity of having an average job. My reputation had been tainted early on at the university, but something shifted when I began seeing Kate—something for me, anyway. I could never erase what my students and fellow colleagues thought of me in the beginning, but I was just beginning to feel different. Useful. Needed, even.

Now I had to kiss that all goodbye, and for what? A publishing contract that turned out to be a circus act? Was this the path I really wanted to be on? I guess it was too late to wonder, but my mind didn’t seem to want to listen to that reasoning. It was obsessed with the question, a machine jammed and spitting out a Does-Not-Compute error message, no matter how many times I tried to dislodge it from its rut.