Heart of Fire (Blood of Zeus #2) - Meredith Wild Page 0,28
his breath.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, unwilling to surrender my grin. “Just get in here and flip the sign on your way.” If any more members of the Valari optics squad swarm in, they’ll have to wait.
After fulfilling the request, Jesse pins me with an impressive version of his scientist’s scrutiny. His eyes are steely as scalpels, his jaw’s set like a canyon wall, and his shoulders are the cliffs to go along with that chiseled rock. It’s all enhanced more because his hair isn’t in the way. The unruly waves have been wrestled back, leaving some dancing room for his impressively wicked brows. Alameda should hire every member of the science department by auditioning them on that look.
“Has the student tidal wave been that bad already?” he questions. “It’s still October, right? Too late for adds or drops, and too early for semester-finals stress. Maybe they’re all just interested in Alameda’s newest pop culture it dude.” He snickers but cuts in on himself with a grimace. “Or has it been more drama with the board? You were vague about it in your messages.”
“I was vague because the board was too. I was advised to take a few days off, but then I wasn’t.”
He frowns. “Just like that?”
I refrain from mirroring his look. It wasn’t just like that, thanks to Veronica pulling magic strings behind the Alameda curtain in order to reopen the university’s gates for me. But no way am I ready to hit him with all that. I give Jesse complete credit for how his scientist’s imagination can stretch, but there are limits to the realm of scientific possibility—even his.
Besides, there’s another reality I’ve got to bring him up to speed about. One that’s more urgent than craziness like my king-of-gods father and my eight forgotten years in the land of myths and immortals.
“Just like that,” I finally say. “Maybe the board finally gathered their collective shit and realized that in the grand scheme of campus scandals, Kara and I are a blip on the radar.”
Jesse settles his elbows on his wheelchair arms. Then narrows that stare again. “Just a blip,” he repeats. “To the tune of hair stylists making office calls and—”
A knock on the door cuts him off. “Professor Kane? It’s Natalie, from Ms. Valari’s office. I need to know how much longer you’ll be, please. I have to take a picture of your ID so they can expedite your security clearance for the red carpet on Friday night. I also have Veronica’s preliminary talking points for the Gold Circle Dinner. You have to review them as soon as possible so the research team can have them done by Saturday. All of this is time sensitive, so—”
“Natalie?” I hate answering her interruption with the same, but there’s no other choice.
“Yes?” The young woman is softer, responding to the authority in my tone.
“There’s a café in the courtyard in front of the library. I’ll meet you down there in thirty minutes.”
Already I feel her hesitancy. In Mama Valari time, that’s a lot of minutes. In my world, where I’ve got to explain the last forty-eight hours to Jesse with clarity and diplomacy, it’s a hiccup. But not in any funny sense of the word. Already his face reflects stunned creases at the mention of the Gold Circle Dinner. The annual event at President McCarthy’s home is so swanky, most of the Alameda professors aren’t invited.
“Very well, Professor,” she finally says.
My relief is palpable. So is the low hum of frustration I’ve been battling to subdue all day.
“And that officially hit my saturation point on the day for hearing Veronica’s name,” I grumble, half to myself, half to my audience of one.
“Red carpet clearance, eh? And the Gold Circle Dinner?” Jesse works his jaw back and forth while studying the mesh of his fingers at the center of his lap. “I guess the board really did come to their senses about welcoming you back to the fold.”
I pull in a harsh breath. “Jesse…”
“Hey. It’s cool, man.”
“I can assure you, it’s not.”
“Oh, come on.” He drops his hands. “You know me better than that, sugar Kane. Am I pissed because you’re going to the Alameda University version of the VIP backstage party? Of course. But will I hold it against you?” He spews some gruff air. “Fuck that.”
“Want to swap places?” I’m half-serious and tell him so with a deliberate stamp of my gaze. “You know that just thinking of this stuff gives me hives.”