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“They are, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“You free for lunch? I have half an hour before my next class.”
“No. That got a call was from the dean’s office. He wants to see me.” Sassy sighs down the line.
“Oh. Any idea what it’s about?”
“Nope. Guess I’ll find out soon, though. He wants to meet right now.”
That doesn’t sound good. But I don’t want to add stress to her day, so I don’t voice my thoughts.
“Okay, call me after?”
“Will do.” Sassy ends the call with no further discussion and it makes me chuckle. She really doesn’t do affection.
Chapter17
Sassy
Iannounce myself to the Dean of Students secretary, then take a seat. I still haven’t worked out why he requested a meeting. My attendance is pretty bad, so maybe it’s that. I’ve never been great with showing up, but since hanging out with Colt, I have to admit I’ve gone from bad to worse.
Dean Pritchard pops his head out of his office and waves me in. I enter, closing the door behind me. I’ve been in here before. The Dean is an over enthusiastic leader who wants to get to know all his students personally. He has individual chats with every single student in their first year of uni, just to see how they are getting along. And while that sounds caring, I’ve never liked him. I can’t put my finger on what it is, a gut feeling, I suppose, but I don’t trust him. He has an arrogant demeanour, acting like he rules the world instead of just this university. And I’m convinced those chats are his way of staying in control of his students’ lives. He’s small and bald, with a friendly face. But as soon as he opens his mouth, you know where you stand.
I sit down before being asked. The office is what you’d expect a dean’s office to look like. There’s a heavy wooden desk, shelving lined with thick textbooks and the obligatory motivational picture hanging on the wall. Pride of place at the centre of his desk is a framed photograph of him meeting the Dalai Lama. In the picture, Pritchard has a smug grin. The boastful puff of his chest seeming at odds with the values of the Dalai Lama. I’ve always hated that picture. Almost as much as him.
“Thanks for coming, Saskia.” Pritchard says as he takes his own seat behind the desk. Another check against him. He insists on using my proper name. I cross my legs and stay silent, waiting for him to tell me what this is all about. I don’t do small talk.
“I need to address a very serious issue with you.” He clasps his hands in front of his body and looks down. “It’s come to my attention that you have a job outside of school that is, shall we say, unsavoury?”
I lower my eyebrows. “This is about me being a stripper?”
Dean Pritchard clears his throat, looking deeply uncomfortable with this conversation. “Yes. I’ve become aware that you, um, dance at The Nest. Is that correct?”
“Sure is.” I inspect my fingernails. He needs to get to the point already. And it better not be to request a private show.
“Right. Well. So you don’t deny it?”
I look up at him again. “Why would I deny it?”
“Because.” He stops and takes a breath. Then he starts again, his voice firmer now. “Miss Bennett I’ll be frank. We can’t have a student moonlighting as a stripper.”
“Why?”
“It reflects poorly on the university. While you’re a student here, at all times, you are representing our establishment. This is a fine education institution and we pride ourselves on our upstanding place in society. To have one of our students selling her body in a seedy strip club isn’t the image we’re aiming for here.”
“I don’t sell my body,” I say through gritted teeth. This man is unbelievable. “I dance.”
“You take your clothes off, do you not?”
“While dancing.” I glare at him. “Dancing is an art form. This university even teaches it as a subject.”
“We do NOT teach students how to strip at this university!” Dean Pritchard flusters, his face red.
“I don’t understand why you care what I do in my private time?” I’m growing angry as well. His reaction to my job is completely uncalled for and not his business. It’s my body and my decision what I do with it.
“As I’ve said, while you’re a student here, you represent our school. Everything you do reflects on our image.”
“I’m a student who has a job, earning honest money to pay your fees.” He doesn’t need to know I actually took the job to pay off an unrelated debt.
