Page 77 of Bachelor
Then we parted, and I slipped through the door, shutting it behind me.
One hurdle down. What felt like so many impossible jumps to go.
I took a deep breath and leaned my weight against his office door for a moment. The hallway outside of his office was empty, the only sounds that of the pipes in the thick stone walls creaking as the furnace kicked on and began pushing hot air into the building.
Had we been quiet enough? Had these stone walls been thick enough to cover what we’d just done with nothing but a locked door separating us from whoever just happened to be lingering in the hallways after hours?
I pushed off the door and adjusted the belt on my coat as I walked down the quiet hallway, the only noise my heeled boots clacking on the stone floor. The sound echoed as I neared the front common area where the first floor split into four ways, each hallway darkened.
That was when I heard other footsteps mingling with mine.
Not Rhys’s heavy tread coming up behind me. Someone else.
I whirled around just as Cassandra Martins came into view, her blonde hair tied back away from her face and her figure shielded by a heavy black raincoat. Her eyes were bright in the darkness, a coy smile touching her full lips. She walked past me, her gaze locking on mine, and then turned toward the doors leading out of Hollis Hall.
She laughed, low in her throat, and said loudly over her shoulder, “It’s a bit late for office hours, don’t you think?”
“What are you doing here?” I snapped before I could stop myself.
“Me?” She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I should be asking you the same thing.”
I said nothing as she turned to face me fully, tucking her hands in the pockets of her jacket. She took several steps toward me and stopped a comfortable distance away, but the air felt still and icy between us.
“I work here, Whitney. I’m faculty. I can be anywhere I want, at any time. You, on the other hand?” She looked down at her nails and chuckled silently before meeting my eyes again. “What are you up to, Ms. Dahl? You’re an enigma, truly. Every time I think I have you figured out and that I know all your little tricks, you throw me for a loop.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That’s my job.” She laughed, rolling her eyes. “You seriously haven’t figured that out already? I see everything. I hear everything. I know everything there is to know about the students in my assigned departments and I relay that information back to the high-strung parents of the elite student body here on campus. I am the eyes and ears of the families. My job is to make sure their precious heirs stay on the right track, able to change into suits and ties a few days after graduation and sit in their father’s boardrooms or have a ring on their finger and are set to be fitted for a wedding dress.”
I paled, especially as she took another cautious step toward me like I was some feral beast waiting to strike.
“What would your parents say about your little evening romp with a professor?” Her eyes glimmered. “Probably nothing if he was in the business or law department, I can say that much. But Rhys? A doctorate in archaeology? Two master’s degrees and an undergrad in the humanities? Whitney, come on. What are you thinking?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she hissed, eyes narrowing. “You used to run this place. You had every student and faculty member eating out of your hand. Now look at you, whoring yourself around the campus at night.”
“Get away from me,” I said coolly, holding out a hand as she started to close in on me.
“The Brockford family has tied themselves in knots trying to figure out how Christian managed to lose someone like you.”
“Why the hell do you care?” I hissed. “And why would that be any of your business?”
She only smiled at me, crossing her arms over her chest. Her expression was cold and smug, something bred from whatever schemes she’d been up to all semester.
A sudden wet and heavy realization weighed down my shoulders.
“Christian put you up to this. The following me around, the practically stalking Rhys—”
“He’s broke, Whitney.”
My lips parted in surprise, but I quickly shut them again.
“His family has nothing left in their coffers, Whitney. Nothing. You were their last shot of keeping their properties and their standing in your exclusive social circles. They’ve been broke for years. Do you think Christian sought you out his freshmen year because helikedyou?” Her laugh echoed through the hallway, bouncing off the walls. “You were the ultimate prize. He knew that, and his parents knew that. Your parents knew that. Hell, every single family who sent their sons to Gatlington during our years as an undergrad likely sat them down and told them to go after you, to get close to you, to get a ring on your finger before someone else could.”
“This is demented,” I said, but my voice wobbled over the words. “None of that is true.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
