Page 27 of Crystal Iris
“Water under the bridge.”
We talk a bit about business and Aaron, but her phone is ringing nonstop.
We’re saying our goodbyes when she turns around and says, “If your friend does decide to… test the waters… I suggest she keeps her options open. In case she needs a safety net.”
She walks away before I can say anything. Did she just imply I…? I shake my head. Lara is… Well, I can see why she’s good at business.
Nine
“The greater the artist, the greater the doubt. Perfect confidence is granted to the less talented as a consolation prize.” – Robert Hughes
Lara’s words are still echo in my head as I arrive on campus. As expected, the buildings look haunted by the absence of people.
I pause my search for the catalog and pull my phone from my purse. I type:Hoyt Locklear.I don’t want to know, yet I can’t help myself. There are no social media accounts—though I wasn’t expecting any. He doesn’t seem like the type. My heart races when I spot his photo in an article. He looks younger, with a shorter haircut. The article briefly mentions that he took over his dad’s business and lands. John Locklear died of heart failure six years ago. From what I can tell, the lands span several states, including North Dakota, Idaho, and Montana—the latter being where I guess the mountains I saw are located.
There are numerous reports about sales and purchases of estates, acres, and ranches, but nothing personal about him.A different girl at every party.I hate the thought of him with... anyone. I want to slap myself—it’s ridiculous. I don’t even know the guy. I shove the phone back into my purse.
I’m about to give up on my search in the library when I hear Darion’s voice. I freeze.The last thing I need is this.I duck behindthe bookshelves and wait for him to move. All I can see is the top of his head.
“There has to be something you can do. I never missed a class, not until…” he says to someone hidden by the shelves.
“If they say there’s nothing they can do, then I’m sorry,” comes the second voice. George. The English professor. My colleague.
“I think it’s time you pay the debt. I would hate for them to find out how you got this job,” Darion says, his voice now cold, like a dog on a tight leash, just waiting to be freed.
“I don’t know what I can do,” George’s voice trembles.
“Figure it out!” Darion snaps, walking away.
I exhale. Why hasn’t Darion replied to my email?
I leave campus immediately. I have no desire to run into him, especially with no one else around.
On my way to update Akira on what Lara said, I check my phone and see three missed calls from Aaron, followed by a text:Call me ASAP.
“Hey, I was in the library…”
He cuts me off. “My parents are here.”
“Here? As in Boston?”
“As in the apartment. I didn’t want you to show up here unprepared.”
“What are they doing here?”
“They want to… apologize?”
“What? I don’t want?—”
“Can you come home? They won’t leave until they talk to you.”
“Fine. Have a glass waiting for me.”
This day quickly becomes one of my worst.I barely realize I’m home when the driver parks.
“Good afternoon, Ms. De Loughery,” the doorman greets me.
“Hi, Nelson. How are you?”
