“I spoke with Chairman Phillips at Harvard yesterday. We had some issues to discuss in our roles as academic thought leaders …”
I wondered if Jason would wear that navy-blue Henley today. It should have clashed with his eyes—blue and green should never be seen, they said—but somehow it all worked to define his pectorals magnificently. The fantasy of this man in a Henley was helping me produce the uterine contractions necessary to ensure his sperm reached my egg.
In other words, an orgasm.
I snapped out of my lewd thoughts to find Marcus staring at me. “Perhaps we should discuss it over lunch?”
“What’s that?”
“Your guest lectureship at Harvard. As I was saying, your absence will be quite disruptive?—”
“Are you saying you won’t sign off on it?” Panic flushed my veins.
He gave me that look, the one women everywhere have suffered since the first time a man realized he had leverage over a better-qualified female colleague.
“Not at all. But sabbaticals and absences need to be approved by the department head.”
“The guest lectureship at Harvard was approved by your predecessor. You can’t pull the rug from under me now.”
He chuckled darkly. “I have no intention of doing so, Franky. I would just like to discuss how it will impact the department.”
“Over lunch.”
“You make it sound so horrifying.”
He sat back, satisfied with his progress. Perhaps I was being too harsh on him. Perhaps this was the only way to get ahead. We would make a super couple in academia, big fish in our small pond, though how would he feel about my child-rearing plans?
He doesn’t have a dimple in his cheek or a wicked smile or delicious muscles.
Of course he doesn’t. He’s not Jason Isner and you should be glad of it!
“I think it’s important that we observe the correct protocols around approvals for absences, Franky. Obviously, you’ve been given a lot of latitude here by my predecessor.” Another oily smile. “But I plan to keep a closer eye on how the department’s resources, including its faculty, are used. Shall we say noon at my office?”
Damn. Perhaps Jason would be okay with rescheduling to this evening.
“Of course. See you then.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jason
* * *
Me
Any news?
Doc
You’ll be the fourth to know. After me, Bunsen, and Beaker.
Training camp started the last week of September, which I was glad of because I needed my mind to be on hockey instead of whether I was a father to be. It had been almost two weeks since I last delivered my genetic material to the doc and I hadn’t heard a peep from her, except for her smart-ass comment about the cats having more rights than me.
I was feeling pretty good about the previous ten days of camp. I was gelling with Nyquist, who had taken over as captain from Theo, and even had some decent practice shifts with MacFarlane. Coach had options for the defensive line, which was basically why I was here. While I highly doubted I could fully fill my brother’s skates, I had youth (sort of) and stamina (definitely) on my side.
I picked up my phone from my cubby in the locker room. Still nothing from the doc. I was going to have to go over to her place and suss out the situation.
Twenty minutes later, I hit the intercom button for Franky’s building and waited. Waited some more. Just as I was about to leave, a fuzzy voice emerged from the speaker.
