“I will. That is, I’m planning to. My sister’s there now.”
“Great. We’ll have lunch with my agent.”
“Sorry, what?”
“You sent me your book.”
“You said I could.”
“Because I thought you had something there. I gave it to Susan. She thinks so, too.”
I was stunned. Shaking. It was every writer’s fantasy, the literary equivalent of being discovered at a soda fountain by a famous Hollywood director. “I... Thank you!”
“No obligation,” Oscar assured me. “But it’s a free lunch.”
My mind whirled. “Maybe... Maybe I could ask you for a cover quote?”
“You should.” He chuckled. “I may be a very lazy writer, but I must admit I’m a very popular brand.”
—
Dee!” My former faculty advisor flinched behind his desk, like a dog running headlong into an electric fence. “What are you doing here?”
Good question. The last time I’d visited Barry’s office, I’d been vacillating between shock and denial, barely able to function. The meeting had been unsatisfying and deeply uncomfortable for both of us. It was time to face what had been done to me, stop blaming myself, and move on.Closure.Finally.
I smiled brilliantly. “I came to thank you, actually.”
He eyed the doorway, but I was blocking his escape. “For...?”
“First, for not trying to convince me to stay in the program here.” I sat, projecting warm friendliness. “And second, for writing a recommendation to Trinity.”
His posture relaxed slightly. “Good. It’s gone well, then?”
“Very well. I just finished my thesis. The Court of Examiners meets next month. My supervisor says I should have no trouble receiving my degree.”
“Your supervisor. That would be... er, Dr.Eastwick?”
“Maeve Ward.”
His eyebrows climbed toward his receding hairline. “Ah. Very good. I read her book, of course. Longlisted for the Booker Prize. Can I get you something? Coffee, water?”
“I’m good, thanks.” I was excellent. “Also, Oscar Diggs thinks I have a very good chance of having my story published. I’m meeting his agent next week.”
“That’s wonderful news. I’m glad you came to tell me.” His hangdog eyes met mine. “I’ve always... Well, I’ve regretted I didn’t do more when you came to me last year.”
“Me too.”
He winced. “You did say the relationship was consensual. And since Gray wasn’t in a supervisory capacity...”
I didn’t speak. Silence, I’d learned from Tim, could say quite a lot.
“Still.” Barry dropped his gaze to his desk. “To the extent that his behavior was indicative of a pattern...”
I sat up straight. “Wait. Was there something else? Someone else?”
Barry cleared his throat. “It’s not... I have to respect the confidentiality of everyone involved.”
My hands curled in my lap.I have the power, I reminded myself. I just had to use it. “Because,” I said slowly, “if there were a complaint, I want to give a statement about my relationship with Gray. If that would help.”
