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“So the research assistant had his baby?”
She nodded. “Her name is Tamara and yes, she did. Dr. Baby Daddy denied any responsibility. The rumors were vicious and her university peers lost respect for her. They called her a gold digger and a liar. The whole situation was disgusting. Academia is not for the weak.”
Wow. “That sounds terrible. So, uh, what are you doing now that you’ve graduated?”
“I took a job in academia.” A dark undercurrent laced her laugh. “I’m waiting to sign the final contract. It’s all but a done deal.”
“What kind of work?”
“It’s a post-doc—post doctoral research. I’m going to be working under an incredible researcher I have so much respect for. At U of M, so I don’t even need to relocate. A few of my grad school colleagues are going into private sector jobs. They tried to nudge me that route, but those jobs can take months or years to pan out. Research at the university fits for me. And, well, maybe it’s presumptuous, but I want to make lasting change there. Tamara—she gathered student support and we protested against a second appearance by Dr. Baby Daddy. The school actually listened. Instead of him, we brought in a neuroscientist, a Black woman, whose research strives for inclusivity of under-represented groups. And we fundraised so she could add additional speaking dates at local public high schools.”
“Wow, that’s incredible.”
“Honestly, Tamara led the initiative. She’s so driven. She inspired me to look beyond myself and my own experiences. School is easy for me, but it isn’t so easy for everyone.” She looked at me. “I understand that more now.”
The weight of her words sank in. “I had every opportunity, I just didn’t want it. I feel bad about it sometimes.”
“You had to go your own direction. I respect that. A lot.”
She said it so easily. And I believed her. The thing about being around Jillian again, was how natural it felt to discuss these bigger issues.
“Anyway, I started up a little mentoring thingy with the grad school and the high schools—science focused, obviously. I’m glad I can keep doing it since I’ll be sticking around at the university.”
“A mentoring thingy? Sounds like you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
She blushed. A genuine Jillian blush.
I couldn’t help smile. “You’ve accomplished so much. No surprise, but to hear it spelled out…wow.”
She shoved the book by the skeezy author back onto a shelf. “Power tripping, womanizing men are a dime a dozen in my industry, which is why I’m thrilled my post-doc work is under a woman. It shouldn’t be an exception to be a woman in my field—and it’s getting more diverse, slowly, but some days it’s rough. A little bit of my joy was chipped away seeing what happened to Tamara. It made me think how close I could be to having my reputation ruined. Like, what is this, Regency England?”
I must have stared at her like a shocked deer because she swatted me.
“You know, like Jane Austen. Or Bridgerton. Where women’s reps were trashed because they wore the wrong dress and walked on the wayward side of a park.”
I shook my head. I hated how anyone’s career could be tainted by their relationship choices. Then again, this was Jillian. When she had a plan, she didn’t let anyone stop her.
Back when we were together, her drive to succeed intimidated me. I didn’t have my own set plan. Now? I only felt pride. For her and for where I’d gotten too. I owned a business. I had a financial plan and even knew a thing or two about investing in stocks. My life plan beyond my business was hazy. Maybe get married someday. Have kids if that’s what my partner wanted too.
Seeing Jillian brought a yearning I hadn’t felt in ages. Maybe ever. I’d wanted to be with her then, but I hadn’t thought I deserved it.
I wasn’t the same guy as back in high school. Not even close. And Jillian? For as much as she seemed exactly the same, I was sure she had changed too.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so serious,” she said. “It’s refreshing being somewhere where I’m not surrounded by busybody faculty. You think middle schoolers are obsessed with gossip? Try university professors. They thrive on it. Thankfully, my social life is so non-existent I bypass their interests entirely.”
I took her in. Shoulder-length blond waves, big pretty hazel eyes, and a nose perfectly placed on her face. Not many guys would admit to being into noses. Hers looked drawn on it was so perfect. And for being so smart, she never turned up that nose at me. Any inferiority I’d felt had always been my own insecurities.
She was Jillian, but matured. Settled into her skin. Suddenly, I wanted to know everything about her.
She ran a hand through her hair and twisted the ends. “What? You’re looking at me weird.”
“Sorry.” I tried to snap out of it, but I’d been sneaking looks at her since she’d shown up on our property. I’d be a fool not to.
“Let’s check out the book sale section.” She tugged my arm as we crossed through the library.
I sifted through architecture and travel books. I found a worn paperback about mail order homes of the early 1900s. Houses ordered right from a catalog.
After searching through racks of second-hand books, she held up her stack. “Too many?”
