Baby (Linear Tactical #9)- Janie Crouch Page 0,29

by her boyfriend. Which wouldn’t actually be a surprise since her boyfriend is a kind of an extreme sports star.”

“Phoenix.”

“You’ve heard of him? I wouldn’t have thought extreme sports was your thing. But I guess everyone has heard of him.”

“Yeah I know him. They’re both okay?” She’d been so buried in her own problems all weekend while Riley was having real ones.

“Fine as far as I know. I try my best to stay out of town gossip, although that’s a near-impossible feat around here.”

That settled it. Quinn definitely needed to stop being childish and talk to her brother. She might need some help from him, but it looked like he might need some help from her too. Riley had always been so adventurous and self-sufficient. Definitely more worldly than Quinn, even though he was younger. The thought he might need her had never occurred to her.

Her phone rang in her hand, and for a moment, her heart leapt when she saw a Cambridge area code. Could they be calling because they’d realized they’d been wrong in what they accused her of?

Could this entire nightmare be over?

She had time before she needed to prep for her shift, so she walked toward the back door.

“Hello.”

“Quinn.”

“Peter?” Her stomach dropped and every hope was dashed in an instant. Her ex-husband was chair of Media Studies, a sister department to her own Comparative Literature area. He would not be the one calling if they were going to offer Quinn her position back.

“Where are you, Quinn?”

Where was she? Why was he asking that? “Why do you want to know?”

“Just answer the question.”

She was so used to responding to his demands and instructions that she answered without thinking. “I’m standing outside of a restaurant called the Eagle’s Nest.”

As soon as she said the words, she wanted to take them back. It was none of Peter’s business where she was. He wasn’t her husband anymore. Wasn’t her mentor. Wasn’t even her colleague.

“Where is that? Is that on the southside of town? I know you moved out of your apartment. Where are you living?”

She bristled. “Why do you care? It’s none of your business. And why are you calling me on this number?” It wasn’t his cell or office.

“This is Nancy’s phone. Mine was stolen.”

“Oh. Sorry, I guess.”

“Someone broke into my house yesterday, stole some electronic equipment including my phone, and trashed the place. Sound familiar?”

Of course, it did. It was exactly what had happened to her Harvard office.

Everyone thought she’d done it to herself. Part of the reason she’d been fired and blacklisted—the “tendency toward drama” Dean Edmonds had been talking about in her email.

Quinn rolled her eyes, tired of repeating the same statement she’d made weeks ago. “I didn’t break into my own office, Peter. And I definitely did not break into your house yesterday.”

There was silence at the other end for a long moment. Peter was nothing if not the master of waiting someone out. How many times had she sat across from him—in his office or at their kitchen table—with him just sitting there waiting for her to say more.

At one time she’d appreciated that about him. She’d thought he’d wanted her to find the answers for herself. Peter was eight years older than she was and had been well-established in his own academic career by the time the two of them had met.

It had been two years ago when, just shy of their tenth anniversary, Peter had sat across from her calmly and quietly—as he did all things—and told her he wanted a divorce. He’d dropped his nuclear bomb and patiently waited across the table without saying anything more.

It was then she’d realized that Peter’s silence wasn’t a teaching tool. His silence was because he was smart enough to realize that if he kept his mouth shut, other people generally did something to put him at an advantage.

But by that point, she’d learned from the master. She didn’t sob or ask what she could’ve done differently when she’d worked so hard to be the perfect partner for him. She’d simply agreed to the divorce.

As soon as possible, they’d gone before a judge and ended their marriage the way it had begun—practically and with little fanfare.

She’d done it all with a quiet dignity she was proud of...right up to the point where she’d lost every shred of that dignity and had screamed at Peter in his office until security had come to escort her out. Her face flamed at the memory of the two security

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