Page 30 of Things We Do for Love and Science
Her throat tightened, and her nostrils flared on a sharp exhale. She was repulsed by his subtle abuse of power and her continuous lack of backbone in the face of it. “No, John,” she said calmly.
He glared at her above the rim of his glasses. “Why ever not?”
“Because I refuse to make Gabriel go into that vault again to mess with yet another ancestor’s skull. I just won’t.” She could expand on how awful it had to be for a person to again and again open caskets that had lain undisturbed for centuries, but she chose not to.
Not that she owed John any explanation; it wasn’t part of her job description to coerce unsuspecting fellow citizens into desecrating their ancestor’s graves. The only thing that kept her from being tormented by her conscience was that they’d found that diamond and emerald necklace the last time she’d begged Gabriel for ancestor DNA.
“But Cordelia, consider—”
“No, John. I won’t do it.”
He rose from his chair with an ominous calm. “Is this your final answer?”
She also stood and fixed him with a firm gaze. “Yes.”
He turned to the door, coffee mug clutched to his chest, then left without another word.
She sank back, gasping for air, and pressed both palms against her chest. In her inner eye, she pictured him tearing up her contract. Years of hard work and dedication, all for nothing. Her heart was hammering, and her field of vision narrowed.
Fumbling to open her desk drawer, she rooted around for the paper bags she kept from her lunches. She found one, blew it open, and breathed into it, making sure to lengthen her exhalations. Slowly, her level of oxygen returned to normal.
What had happened to her? Afraid of John Winter’s every whim? When had toeing the line with her boss become more important than being true to her convictions? She was a grown woman and a respected scientist. If submissive behavior was a requisite for getting a job at Renwood University, maybe she’d need to find someplace else.
Chapter Nine
Delia slapped the deskthen opened her laptop.May as well start job hunting now. Tears pricked behind her eyes, but she willed them away. All her plans were shot to pieces. How she’d have loved to stay in Renwood, to be near Tom and his family, to see Rubina and Jamie grow up. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Deep, hard sadness lodged in her chest, and her belly burned with rage. How could one man and his arbitrary decisions hold such power over her life?
She sighed and pulled up a career website. With her CV, she’d find a position at another university no problem, and the road to tenure might even be smoother someplace else. But Renwood was her home, and like a carrier pigeon, she always found her way back. John Winter and his cold-hearted capriciousness had taken that anchor away from her.
What had come over her? Where had she found the courage to stand up to him when she’d taken on every bit of extra work and every stupid task he’d thrown at her for years without complaint?
Well, she could only swallow her rage so often. It was one thing to dig deep and exploit herself and quite another when John forced her to exploit her friends. This situation sucked, but at least she had rediscovered her spine.
Her head jerked up when the door opened, and John wandered in, carrying sheafs of paper. With a leisurely pace, he approached and presented her with the pages.
She gripped the edges of her desk and looked at him. “What’s this?”
