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A PhD thesis can only be authored by the student in question. But we agreed to write a paper together about the Pentti-Stone conjecture and its proof. We’d be co-authors, which was not that unusual between the student and his or her adviser, but to co-author a paper on such groundbreaking work is worth its weight in gold for any academic. His name would be first, there was no question about that. But we would have to be quick. Even though I wasn’t paranoid like he was, ideas have been known to hop from head to head until they find a willing host.
Often they find more than one, and whoever gets there first, wins.
Three
“You look nice today,” Geoff says. The others have gone and it’s just him and me left. He’s packing up his laptop and I’m tidying up the meeting room, making sure to leave it the way I’d like to find it.
“Do I?” I give a little laugh, turning to wipe the whiteboard so I don’t have to look at him. “That’s nice. Luis thought I looked conservative.”
He comes up right next to me and takes the block eraser from my hand, puts it down in the tray.
“What?” I ask.
He takes my shoulders so that I’m facing him, then reaches for the top of my shirt and swiftly undoes the button.
“There.” He smiles. “Fixed it.”
I feel myself redden. The top edge of my plain white bra is visible now, and my first thought is,I wish I’d worn a nicer one.
Geoff walks away, stops at the door. “See you around,” he says, with a wink.
I finish tidying the room, a little embarrassed, a little shocked even, yet unable to suppress the small smile playing on my lips.
Last year, when Geoff and I were away at some conference in Chicago, something almost happened between us. He’d been looking at me like a ravenous wolf all evening and I was flattered, probably more than I should have been. Somehow, I ended up drinking too much, certainly more than I’d intended, and next thing I knew, we were in his room and he’d gone down to his boxer shorts. But I checked out at the last minute. It was as if I’d woken up from a dream, and an image of Carla and Mateo’s cute little faces looking up at me popped into my mind. I excused myself and ran out of the room, and I thank my lucky stars every day that I came to my senses before anythingactuallyhappened.
I was embarrassed the next day, my memory blurry from all the alcohol I’d consumed. I rushed to apologize, although for which part I’m not sure. The part where I almost went through with it? Or the part where I didn’t?
He laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Anna.” Then he made a show of checking no one was around before leaning forward and in a low voice he said, “Next time.”
And I laughed. “I don’t think so,” I said, even though I was kind of flattered he still wanted to.
He made a sad face and put both hands over his heart. “You’re killing me!”
I chuckled, lightly punched his shoulder. I was so grateful we could laugh about it. I shudder to think what might have happened, but now it’s like a secret joke between us: one time, someone mentioned Chicago in a meeting, and we immediately looked at each other and cracked up behind our hands.
I make a short detour to see June on the way back from the meeting so I can tell her about the alumni dinner. And I’ll make sure to tell her that it was Mila’s initiative, not mine. I don’t want her to think I’m assigning extra work to her. I’ve almost reached her when Clyde, the associate dean of the college, slaps a sheaf of papers on her desk.
“For Christ’s sake, June! Are youcompletelystupid? These are last year’s figures! I asked for this year’s intake! Can you get it right this time?” Then he turns around, mutters something about having to do everything twice around here and marches back down the corridor.
It was a shocking performance, and if I’d had time to turn away, I would have. But it’s too late now. It would only add to June’s embarrassment. So I stand there, inches from her desk, a smile plastered on my face like nothing’s wrong, or if it is, I didn’t notice.
She reaches for the bundle with a trembling hand and pulls it slowly towards her. She looks like she’s going to cry with her head down and her black curls falling forward, almost hiding her face.
“He’s a bully,” I say simply. “He speaks like that to me all the time.”
I don’t know why I say that since it’s not true. I just want to soften her humiliation. I certainly don’t think Clyde should speak to anyone like that and I make a mental note to pull him up on it later.
June looks up, crimson patches blooming on her cheeks. She tries to smile, and fails. Her chin wobbles. “I doubt that very much.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“It’s not even my job,” she says. “His secretary is off sick and I’ve been asked to step in.”
I lean forward and whisper, “I searched his desk for a stapler once, and I found a penis enlargement pump. Top left drawer, under that stupid little tray he keeps his paperclips and rubber bands in.” I stand up. “Just think aboutthatnext time he talks to you like that.”
We both know I just made that up. She drops her head and laughs silently, and it takes a moment for her to recover. When she looks up again, the smile is real.
“Thank you,” she says, still trying, and failing, to stop grinning.
