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“Of course. Obviously, we’ve already interviewed you, and I’m sure you’ve had interviews at several other universities over the last few weeks. I would expect nothing less. However, time is ticking, and we’re going to need an answer now, as we have several applicants for the position. We offer what I would guess is one of the most competitive packages, so I’m hoping you have a decision made.”
I cleared my throat. I hadn’t officially made a decision, although I didn’t have any other viable options at this point. This was a grown-up position. I’d be a professor. It meant a generous salary, fabulous benefits, summers off, and any future children—which I had no idea if I’d ever have—would get a very impressive discount on tuition. Apparently, that was a big selling point for most professors.
“I’m so grateful you’ve given me the time to explore my options. I was actually looking into different ways I could work with students that are a bit younger—you know, kids that maybe need that support.”
A pretentious laugh escaped his mouth, and he shook his head. “You didn’t go through all this schooling to be underpaid, did you? You’ve earned the right to teach at the collegiate level. The hours are great; it’s a nice career. Why would you want to mess with younger, troubled kids?”
Spoken like a wealthy asshole.
“Probably because I once was one.” I met his gaze via the computer screen. “I think psychology offers many avenues where I can put my education to use.”
“And let me guess—they’ve all said you were overqualified.”
“I’ve heard that a few times,” I admitted.
“If you wanted to be a school counselor and break up schoolyard arguments, you could have taken a different path in your education. You have a Ph.D.”
Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.
“I was just looking into a few different things. But I agree, teaching at the collegiate level is probably my best option for a number of reasons.”
“Spoken like a true doctor of psychology,” he said, his lips pursed and his unibrow impossible for me to look away from.
My stomach twisted at the thought of what I was agreeing to. It didn’t feel right. Maybe that was just part of growing up. That I’d just decided what I was going to do for the next thirty years. I was agreeing to be the next Dereck Hamilton. I’d buy a house, drink wine, and go to happy hour with all the professors once a month. I’d stand in front of the classroom, pretend to be an expert in my craft, and go through the motions until I retired.
It was boring and mundane.
But consistent and responsible.
“My only concern is that my father will not be home until the first or second week of August, and I know you’d need me there by the first of the month when classes start. Perhaps I could start my contract mid-year and start in January for the second semester?”
The thought of spending six months here made me feel better. I wasn’t ready to leave. I’d fallen into a routine that I was enjoying. And I wanted to spend some time with my father once he came home.
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll hire a substitute professor to cover for you until you arrive. I’ll have your contract sent over in the next week or two for you to sign. Welcome to the family, Ruby.”
I nodded, but an enormous lump formed in my throat.
“Thank you for being so understanding. I appreciate it.”
“I’ll be in touch. Take care.” He ended the call, and I sat back in my chair, processing the conversation. I should be excited. This was what I’d wanted, right? No more driving myself crazyabout what I wanted to do with my life. No more struggling to make rent. No more living month to month.
I would even be able to help my father financially so that he didn’t have to work so much if he didn’t want to.
There was a knock on the door. I moved to my feet, and when I pulled it open, both of my brothers came barreling through.
“Hey, sis, we came to take you to dinner,” Zane said, as he scooped me up and spun me around like the barbarian he was.
“What? You’ve never taken me to dinner.”
“Well, I got hired at Knockout Gym full-time. Romeo was impressed with the job I did painting the locker room, and his maintenance guy is moving, so he offered me the job,” Rico said. “We thought we’d take you out to celebrate.”
“Hey. I also got promoted at the auto shop. I came to pay you back the money I owed you from when you paid off Sam for me. So, Rico will be buying dinner,” Zane said over his laughter as Rico flipped him the bird.
I was stunned. Zane had never made an effort to pay me back, and Rico holding down a job had surprised me, as well.
All of it surprised me.
I’d barely heard from my mother over the last few weeks, which meant she was doing better.
