Page 76 of Bookworm
I nodded. “That would be fun.” But was it enough to earn a full living on? Was it enough to keep me here with Adam?
“Hey,” he added quietly and bumped me with his hip. “We’re going to be fine. You and me. No matter where you end up.”
I gave him what I hoped was a convincing smile. I wanted him to be right. But I just wasn’t convinced long distance relationships could work. I was already dreading going to Rhode Island for a few months. The thought of Adam and I finding time to fly across the country to see each other physically made my stomach hurt.
“You don’t believe me that it’s going to be fine, do you?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Only to people with eyes.” Then leaning down, his lips brushing my ear, he whispered, “You know how I know everything’s going to be fine?”
With a sigh, my head fell against his shoulder. “How?”
“Because I love you. You’re the Obi-Wan for me.”
I grinned against his shoulder. “Yo-da one for me, too,” I said in return.
“See? We can’t lose. Not with theforceof our love on our side.”
I groaned and buried my face in his shoulder. “I have another hour of this class and bad Star Wars puns are not going to get me through it.”
I felt the bounce of his shoulders with his chuckle. “Okay, okay, get back in there, Professor Meyers.”
Professor Meyer.
I’d never seen myself teaching prior to meeting Anna that day in the coffee shop. But I had to admit, this felt right.
I’d been teaching this masterclass for four hours already and the whole thing flew by.
It was fun. And I felt the same sense of peace I’d felt the first time I restored a book.
Like I was right where I belonged.
And yet, in a week, I would pack up and leave… again.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket and when I looked at the screen, a sharp breath pinched my lungs.
California.
“It’s Stanford,” I said.
Adam’s eyes went wide. “Go,” he whispered, indicating to the hallway.
Clearing my throat, I called out to the class as I crossed toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” I said to the class. “If anyone needs me or has questions, I’ll be right outside the door for a few minutes.”
The students nodded and I excused myself, answering the call. “Hello, this is Harper Meyers.”
“Ms. Meyers, this is Dr. Grolieur from Stanford.”
“Dr. Grolieur, hi,” I said as though I didn’t know exactly who was on the other line when I saw the California area code on my phone.
“I’m going to cut right to it—we’d like to officially offer you the position here at Stanford.”
“You… you what?”
“I’m sending you an email right now with the official offer, including our salary offer and a relocation fee.”
I should have been thrilled.
