“Please?” Audrey pressed, those blue eyes holding Michelle’s, melting her resolve.
Before she could change her mind, Michelle snatched the pages from her briefcase and pushed them across the desk toward Audrey, along with one of the mugs of tea. “It’s just a rough draft ... maybe an introductory chapter.”
“Yay,” Audrey whispered, taking the pages with a kind of reverence that made Michelle’s cheeks feel too warm. Audrey settled in her chair, reading quietly.
Michelle couldn’t bear to watch, so she booted up her laptop and began to clear out her inbox. She found the email from the Sustainability Committee that Audrey had mentioned, as well as one from Kate, containing a “save the date” announcement for her daughter’s wedding in June. Michelle added the date to her calendar, always glad for an excuse to visit London and to see her friend.
“Michelle . . .”
She looked up to find Audrey staring at her with soft eyes. Oh god. She hated it. Michelle steeled herself for Audrey’s polite excuses.
“I knew you had a way with words, but this ... it’s really good. It feels almost like you’re writing about someone you know personally, not an artist who died over a hundred years ago.”
Michelle swallowed. “Really?”
Audrey nodded, holding up the pages. “Thisis the woman who inspired me as an undergrad. I had wondered ...” She drifted off, her expression shuttering, but they both knew what she’d been about to say. It felt like Audrey was poking at the wound Michelle had reopened in that Women in Art class, and it hurt. A lot.
“Wondered what?” Michelle asked, her tone harsher than she’d intended.
“Nothing.”
“It’s something.”
“Don’t make me say it,” Audrey whispered.
“Just say it,” Michelle snapped. She might as well hear it, to know that Audrey was disappointed in her too. Everyone else certainly was.
“I was wondering where she’d gone,” Audrey finished quietly. “When you’re passionate about something, you justshine, Michelle. You changed the course of my life, inspiring me to become a professor, igniting my love of art history. I’d been missing that woman since I joined the faculty here, but I see her again in these pages.”
“Oh.” Michelle lifted her mug and sipped tea to cover her reaction to Audrey’s words. A lump had risen in her throat, and her skin prickled with discomfort. She hadn’t expected those words from Audrey, not her brutal honesty about Michelle’s lackluster teaching or her enthusiasm for the pages. And Michelle had no idea how to handle any of it.
“Where isthiswoman”—Audrey held up the pages—“in your art history class?”
“She got tired.” Michelle sighed. “And disillusioned. I ... until you joined the faculty, I think I’d forgotten she ever existed.”
Audrey blinked, her eyes glossy. “Please don’t forget her. I know I never will.”
Michelle didn’t know what to say, so she focused on her tea. Audrey reached for her own mug, and for a few minutes they sipped in silence. Yes, Michelle had been a more enthusiastic teacher at the beginning of her career, but she’d never been as popular as Audrey, certainly not within a few weeks of joining the department.
Audrey couldn’t even walk through Holman Hall without someone stopping her to say hello or continue a conversation about something. Even Stuart seemed impressed with her, and that wasn’t an easy thing to accomplish. As for Michelle ... she was more impressed with Audrey every day, even when she didn’t want to be.
“I’ve observed your art history class twice now,” Audrey said suddenly. “And one thing that struck me is how few women you mention in your class. I swear you spent more time highlighting female artists when I was your student.”
“Wow, you’re going right for the jugular today, aren’t you?” Michelle took another sip of her tea, stung and off balance. Her hackles were up, but she bit back the urge to snap at Audrey.
“Sorry. My tongue gets away from me sometimes. You don’t have to answer.”
“There were complaints from students,” Michelle heard herself saying. “Stuart instructed me to follow a more traditional curriculum.”
Audrey lurched to her feet, nearly overturning her tea in the process. “That’s bullshit! Are you serious?”
Michelle waved a hand. “Sit down. I’m always serious.”
Audrey planted her hands on her hips. “And you just let him get away with that?”
“Audrey, he runs the department. At the time, I didn’t have tenure. I couldn’t afford to make a fuss if I wanted to keep my job.”
“And now?”
