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Chapter 22
“Dr. Prescott.”
Seated at her office desk, Callie jerked her head up and tried to pull her scattered thoughts together. Professor Klein, the ancient expert of ancient philosophy, stood at the doorway of her office, his mouth pursed in disapproval.
“Your final tenure review is in half an hour,” he said.
“I am aware, thank you.”
“Again, Mrs. Boswell in the front office tells me that members of themediaare still pestering her.” A slight sneer accompanied his remark, and he nodded to the window.
Callie followed his line of sight to the quad, where a few camera-laden reporters lingered. Their numbers had declined in the three days since Jake had returned to Los Angeles, but there was still fallout from the bakery incident and public interest in Callie and Jake’s relationship.
Not that therewasa relationship anymore. He was gone, and she had stayed. It had ended the way she’d expected it to from the start.
She just hadn’t expected it wouldhurtso damned much. Like her heart had become a hard, frozen ball spiked with icicles.
“I’ll take care of it.” She reached for her phone. A woman from Jake’s security firm had contacted her to say they had a “team” working for both her and her family’s safety and privacy and to please call immediately if she ran into any problems.
“This kind of attention does not befit the dignity of this department,” Professor Klein sniffed.
Your presence does not befit the dignity of my personal space.
“I said I’ll take care of it.” Callie rose and put her hand on the door in a blatant invitation for him to leave.
Glowering at her over the tops of his glasses, he shuffled out. Callie shut the door with a pointedclickand placed a call to the security firm, asking them to please deal with the loitering reporters.
She sat back at her desk, determinedly pushing all thoughts of Jake out of her mind. In half an hour, she had to face the ten-member tenure review board. She would give a statement and answer questions about her scholarship, career, and the reasons why she should be awarded a promotion to full professor.
A knock came at her door.
Suppressing irritation, she called, “Come in.”
Eleanor entered, looking both youthful and pretty in jeans and a polka-dot shirt. Callie’s heart constricted. She hadn’t seen or spoken to her mother since the blowup at her house, and she’d ignored Eleanor’s texts and voicemails.
“In addition to your intelligence, devotion to your family, and high achievements, there’s another quality you share with your father.” Closing the door behind her, Eleanor approached the desk. “You’re as stubborn as a mule.”
Callie shook her head, resisting the urge to fling herself into her mother’s arms and sob out all her heartbreak. “I wouldn’t get things done if I weren’t stubborn.”
“Maybe, but there’s something to be said for being flexible, too.” Eleanor sat down, resting her purse on her lap.
“I have to meet with the tenure board in less than half an hour.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“For my review?”
“Of course.” Eleanor reached out as if she were going to touch her daughter, then pulled back. “I know the review is closed to the public, but I’ll be waiting for you when you come out.”
“It could take all afternoon.”
“I happen tohaveall afternoon.”
Swiveling on her chair, Callie faced her mother. Her throat tightened at the warm, melancholy glimmer in Eleanor’s eyes.
“Mom…”
“Some relationships don’t last.” Eleanor leaned forward and covered Callie’s hands with hers. “But I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. It’s in the rulebook.Amor maternus.”
