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But it did grasp my attention a little more firmly. I was busy deciphering and reading about how Queen Guinevere convinced her sweet hubby, Arthur, to leave the rapist’s punishment up to her—yeah, you go, girl; hang that bastard by the balls—when a commotion across the lawn caught my attention.
A group of guys had been playing around the entire time I’d been sitting at my table, attempting to jump from one bronzed statue to the next. But no one had yet succeeded in making it from the charging bull with a ring in its nose to the oversized eagle spreading its wings.
By the cheers that rose, I gathered they had a new champion.
When I looked over, Mason, of all people, stood on top of the eagle’s back, his arms spread almost as wide as the wings fanning underneath him as he shouted out his triumph.
I rolled my eyes but had to smile. As if feeling my gaze on him, he turned in the direction of our table and gave me the thumbs-up sign. I returned it, congratulating him, and he blew me a kiss before a group of guys caught him by the legs and began to carry him around in some kind of whacked-out victory parade.
Apparently, the male portion of the world thought he could do no wrong.
Laughing softly, I checked the screen of my cell phone for the time. Realizing I needed to get to work, I closed Chaucer and packed away my homework.
After clocking in, I chatted a minute with the head librarian and his two assistants, who were the only full-time staff in the library. Then I got started reading call numbers.
I know, it was sooo exciting, but I wanted a little peace and quiet today, so I didn’t mind the boring task. I headed upstairs to a small section above the offices, where only reference books were kept. No one ever, ever came up here, so I knew I wouldn’t be bothered.
Strangely enough, though, I was halfw
ay through the first shelf when I heard footsteps. Someone settled onto one of the three pieces of furniture clumped by the stairs, and my curiosity got the best of me. I squinted through the bookshelves, only to catch sight of Mason.
Mason?
Pressure built behind my ribcage. Anticipation and hope. Did he know I was up here? Had he come to see me? Did this mean we were still friends—friends who actually spoke face to face?
Appearing as if he had no idea I was near, he stretched out on an avocado green couch. After propping his head on the armrest of one end, he crossed his ankles and set them on the other end. Then he opened my copy of The Chamber of Secrets I’d loaned to him and began to read. He turned a page every minute or so and seemed to be three quarters of the way through, making me think he was really reading it.
I’d been scanning the shelves that were facing away from him, but I gave in to temptation and turned around to read the other shelves behind me, so all I’d have to do to see him was squat half an inch to peek over the tops of a row of books.
Between all my reading and peeking, I found a total screw up in the call numbers. An entire shelf was out of order. I pulled every book off the ledge and piled them on the floor. I was just beginning to put them back in the correct order when I heard, “Hello, Mason,” in a low, private voice.
Crouched on the floor, I peeked through an open gap and saw Dr. Janison standing above him.
My heart sank into my stomach. Oh, holy shit. Had he come up here to meet a client?
Mason jerked upright and set the open book in his lap. He looked startled to see her. Thank God. That gave me some hope that he hadn’t planned this little encounter.
“You shouldn’t be talking to me,” he murmured, glancing meaningfully toward the stairs.
“Don’t worry,” Dr. Janison answered just as quietly. “No one ever comes up here. We won’t be caught together.” Shifting closer, she eyed his lap. “What’re you reading there?”
Without waiting for an answer, she reached out, caught the edge of the book and tilted it forward just enough to see the cover.
An amused smile lit her face. “I approve,” she murmured in a husky purr. “I have a preference for British Literature myself.”
Mason peered up at her with a wary squint. “I’m not…I can’t schedule a meeting with you to…to talk about classes again.” He said it so quietly I had to strain to hear him. “I’ve dropped out of those courses and changed my major completely.”
For a second, I wasn’t sure if Dr. Janison had heard him either, or if she had deciphered his code correctly. Heck, maybe I hadn’t deciphered his code correctly.
But after studying him for an overly long five seconds, the professor smiled a slow, knowing smirk. “So you’re raising your prices again?”
My mouth fell open. What?
Mason seemed similarly struck. “What?”
Dr. Janison chuckled. “I remember you doing something like this last year. Stopped making appointments for a few months, told everyone you were finished. But it turns out you just needed more…incentive.” She leaned closer. “Don’t worry. I’ll pay whatever you charge.”
I could only see the side of his face, but the side I saw was filled with red-hot rage. Or was it humiliation? “This isn’t about money. I’m done.”
