“You can keep going,” someone called, but Lor tugged on my sleeve, so I shut off the mic and waved. There was another round of applause as I walked with him through the room and out the back again, and I shook hands and answered questions as I went. Dr. Atmeyer snagged my elbow directly outside the door and pulled me along the hallway and into a rec room with a pool table. He wasn’t a small or out-of-shape man, despite his age, and me politely tugging to get away did nothing; he only tightened his grip and his silver eyebrows dove. It reminded me far too much of Mr. Uhlig and anger churned in my stomach. Lor snuck in just before Dr. Atmeyer slammed the door.
“Why did I have to cover for you? Twice now, counting today?” He loomed toward me, and unlike in the past I didn’t step back. His brows dipped as if he hadn’t been expecting me to develop a spine, but after Derek Uhlig and his gunmen, Dr. Atmeyer wasn’t that bad.
Anger crackled through me. “What are you talking about? I just gave a lengthy lecture.” I gestured at the door.
He snorted. “Only because you wrote an entire book on John Gotti were you able to get away with that utter nonsense. It was clear you hadn’t prepared anything.”
I shrugged. “So? I didn’t need to make any special plans. It was a talk on a subject I am well versed in.”
Dr. Atmeyer’s face went red. “Those people paid four hundred dollars a plate in order to see you speak.”
I gaped. “Why?”
“As a donation to the Humanities Department.”
Shrugging, I stared at him. “You didn’t let me know that. They were happy. No one was throwing the cherries from their sundaes.”
He smoothed a hand down his silver beard and seemed to struggle internally with something. His lips twisted to the side. “I told you to be here nearly an hour before you showed up,” he roared, and this was new, though not entirely. He’d always acted like he was a parent and I was an unruly child.
“Honestly? I forgot. It wasn’t important to me, and you didn’t make me understand why it was important to you. That isn’t my fault.”
He glared at Lor, clearly gearing up to rip into him, and I stepped in front of my assistant. Dr. Atmeyer’s eyebrows shot up when I leaned closer to him. “I forgot. You know how I am, don’t blame him. If it wasn’t for Lor, I wouldn’t have arrived at all.”
“He exists”—Dr. Atmeyer jabbed a finger over my shoulder at Lor—“because you’re completely incompetent.”
Hurt powered through me and I clenched my fists. “No, he is a student here at the university, and he exists, I assume, because his parents loved each other.”
Lor raised his hand in the air, waffling it back and forth with a wince on his face. “I’m here because I paid my tuition like everyone else.”
“Well, anyway, you get my point,” I said, frustrated.
Dr. Atmeyer groaned and held his head in his hands. “At least tell me you started working on that book again. It must be finished.”
“I told you I’m not doing it. Why did I get an email from the publisher? I can’t do that book.”
Lor rested an encouraging hand on my shoulder as if to tell me to stand strong, and I briefly touched my fingers to the back of his.
“I understand you’re very scattered—”
“Stop!”
Dr. Atmeyer stared at me, eyes wide. It felt good to finally stand up for myself. “I am not a child.” I pointed at Lor. “He’s nearly twenty years younger than me and you treat him with more respect. Yes, I have issues with time and other things, but I’m a grown man. You’re done speaking to me this way.”
“I... never said you weren’t an adult.” He stood back and crossed his arms.
“You didn’t have to say it. Your actions did. It’s ableist and asinine.”
His mouth fell open.
“Furthermore, I said I couldn’t do the book.”
He raised his hands as if he wanted to choke me. “I’m very busy. I could do the edits, but it’s your book, Vail. I would think you’d have some professional—”
“I said Ican’tdo it. Not that I was incapable, which we both know isn’t the case, or that I didn’t want to finish the work. My father isdead. Actual buildings of this school were destroyed because of the information I uncovered. I can’t! It would be a disaster.”
“Don’tyouunderstand?” He stepped close and clutched my shoulders so hard they hurt. “What’s happened here is becoming urban myth. If you write a forward detailing the trouble the book has caused, on top of the information in the book itself, the students your work will bring will fund all the repairs to that old building that needed an overhaul anyway, and the Humanities Department for the next fifteen years. Hell, maybe longer! You can’t buy publicity like that. Morbid curiosity is the best kind.” There was a feverish gleam in his eyes.
“I could die! Lorcan could be in danger. He’s a student. I was specifically warned away from that fucking book by people who will kill me!”
