Ethan
Christ on a bike, as my friend Nick would say. All she did was walk into my office and all the blood in my body packed its bags and moved south. She looks like a goddess of abundance with the mass of thick honey hair that seems to bounce down her back. The long legs, curvy arse and full breasts. The enormous grey eyes. It didn’t help when those eyes of hers zeroed right in on my crotch. This is a disaster.
Not least because I now realise why the name Montgomery is so familiar. There’s an Australian Professor Montgomery who is lecturing at the university in Prague, I think. I doubt it’s a coincidence that he specialises in Ancient Egypt. Although, if memory serves, his area of interest is the Old Kingdom. There are lots of rumours about Professor Montgomery and affairs with students. If that’s Sadie’s father, and I’m pretty sure it is, I’m guessing she’s not going to be keen for people to know about our history.
I struggle to concentrate for what’s left of the afternoon, and by ten to six, I’m packing up my laptop in frustration. The only saving grace is I can blame the constant stream of people calling in to see me for my lack of productivity. Not my preoccupation with a certain PhD student and what we did a week or so ago. Or what, I have to admit, I’d like to do again. And again.
At a minute to six, I lock my office door and wander down the corridor, hoping my outward appearance isn’t giving away my inner turmoil because my whole body feels tense. The place is almost deserted. But not deserted enough for me to feel comfortable that we’ll be able to have an uninterrupted, and more importantly, private conversation. Not to mention Martin Collins is still hanging around like the creepy spider he is. Working with him is the one downside of taking this job. Well, it was until I went and messed with a student. If Martin found out what Sadie and I did, he’d make a production of it, for sure.
The lift doors are about to close when I hear a breathless “Hold the lift,” and Sadie squeezes between the doors.
“Thank you, Professor Carter.”
“I thought we had this conversation. It’s Ethan.” I can’t have everyone else calling me Ethan and her sticking to Professor Carter. That would be just as suspicious as being too friendly. It would also creep me out, especially since I’ve seen her naked. Professor-student is not a kink I can get behind. So to speak. Despite my preferred positions. Damn. Should not have thought about that.
Even though we’re the only ones in the lift, I make a point to stand in the opposite back corner from Sadie and keep my eyes glued to the numbers counting down above the door. Willing my response to her to subside.
“So, Montgomery. Your father wouldn’t be—”
She cuts me off before I can even finish my sentence.
“Yes. He would. Professor Derek Montgomery. And yes, my mother is the infamous Rebecca. Wrecker of Homes.” The bitter tone in her voice tells me what a very sore point this is. Not that I can blame her. It happened decades ago, and I know about it. So it’s definitely not been forgotten by the gossips, who have extraordinarily long memories.
The lift doors open, and in seconds we’re outside in the cool early evening air. The lights on the path to the carpark are yellow and just far enough apart for us to be walking in and out of small patches of dimness. Fortunately, there’s nobody around, so I waste no time getting to the point.
“Right. Well. I hardly need to tell you we’ll both be in a difficult position if it gets out we’ve slept together. I suggest we go to Jennifer first thing tomorrow and tell her.” I did flirt with the idea of keeping it to ourselves, but that’s a big risk to take, and based on my physical response to Sadie, I don’t have a lot of faith in it going unnoticed. Not that I plan to have a relationship with her. That would be madness, for more reasons than I care to consider.
Sadie stops in a patch of darkness, her laptop bag clutched to her chest.
“Or we could goFight Cluband never talk about it again.” Even in the dim light, I can see the plea in her eyes.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Secrets have a way of getting out. We didn’t do anything wrong. We’re consenting adults. I didn’t know you were a student. You didn’t know I’d be working at the uni.”
“Oh, sure. That’s fine for you. But nobody is going to believe I didn’t know who you were. It’ll be allshe’s just like her mother. I feel like I’ll never get away from my parents and their stupidity. I’m about to start my PhD. Now I’ll have to leave. Find another uni. I’ll have to delay.” There’s an edge of panic in her voice. Hereyes glitter with tears. “And don’t even get me started on what my mother will say when she finds out.”
She has a point. I have no doubt she had no idea who I was. Other people might not believe it, though. This will impact her far worse than it would me. Even though the scandal with her parents was nearly thirty years ago, people still talk about it. Because Derek Montgomery is a serial offender. He left his first wife and children for Sadie’s mother, then left Rebecca for another younger student not even ten years later. Even so, Rebecca is always portrayed as the home wrecker, not Derek. Which is obscenely unfair.
We start walking again. There are only two cars in the carpark. My new hybrid SUV and a battered little red hatchback, two rows and half a dozen spots apart.
“I’m sorry, Sadie. You’re right. It sucks, but that is how it would play out. However, if it comes to light that we haven’t disclosed this, it’ll be even worse.”
Her anxiety is reaching eleven based on the set of her shoulders, her compressed lips and her death grip on the laptop bag.
“It won’t come out. Only you and I know. And I won’t be telling anyone. Ethan, I really need for this to beFight Clubrules.”
I hate that she’s done nothing wrong, yet she’s been put in this awful position. That we’ve both been put in this position. Everything she’s said is right. She’s the one with everything to lose. Not me. Although I can’t imagine Jennifer would be all that impressed if she found out I’d kept it a secret, even for this long.
I think about the power dynamic in our relationship. My mother would skin me alive if I sacrificed Sadie to protect myself and my reputation.
“Alright. If you want to keep it quiet, I’ll respect that. But we have to stay completely above suspicion.” I have a bad feeling about this in the pit of my stomach. I also feel I have no choice.
“Of course. As far as I’m concerned, it was a one-time thing. Never to be repeated.” Ouch. That’s my intention too, despite what my dick is saying, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a little sting at how easily she can discount what was one of the hottest nights of my life.
Okay, admittedly, I’ve led a pretty conservative life, so the bar is embarrassingly low. Still, a little show of regret that it will never happen again wouldn’t hurt.
“You don’t have to sound quite so definitive about it.”
“Were you expecting a repeat performance?” she asks, sounding both horrified and curious.
