“No.” He shakes his head, but only after a long silence in which he goes very quiet. “It’s not for a while yet. You just have to get used to each other’s ways, you and Ardrossan. And you will! I’m just sorry that you’re not having a better time of it.”
This sofa is preposterous. I’ve edged up against the back, which is high enough to support my neck, and my feet are dangling half a foot off the ground. Thirty seconds alone on this sofa, and I’d be fast asleep.
“So you summoned me to apologize for having recommended me for this job? That is terribly silly of you.” It is so dark in his office now that we cannot read each other’s faces anymore, but since I can hear the tenderness in my voice, I assume that he can, too. I force myself to sit up and scoot forward. “To be given a chance to prove myself at a national research university? I’m grateful to you, and if it doesn’t work out, it’s…just one of those things.”
“No, no, come on!” He, too, sits up, and the earlier tension is back in his body. “Be philosophical about it, by all means, but there’s no reason to be pessimistic! Are you worried about Dancey? He won’t fire you, I’ll see to that!”
“Giles, that’s…that’s not how it’s supposed to work.”
He straightens in his seat and pushes his clasped hands between his knees.
“I wasn’t proposing to thrash him. Smack him about a bit, maybe.”
The quiet dignity with which he says this fools me for three seconds, then we both break down in whoops of laughter. There is a precarious moment when the laughter dies down but our energy is still up. This can go either way…forward…or backward…advance…retreat.
“Giles?”
“Hmm?”
“Have you told them?”
“Told them what?”
“About—your horns.” About the time Hornberger fucked your wife.
“Oh, that. No.”
Any moment now he will brush me off. But until he does…
“And will you?”
“On the whole I think I will, yes. Maybe not this week. Maybe not next. Or maybe not ever. It depends a bit.”
“I should have left Amanda’s office.” I stand up, and my heartbeat almost chokes me when I have to step past him on my way to the door.
“Just as well that you heard. I didn’t quite know whether to tell you.”
When I get home, I go straight to bed, huddle against the mattress, pull the comforter tight around my body, and pretend I am still in Giles Cleveland’s office. In Giles Cleveland’s arms.
Chapter 21
AMANDA CLEVELAND IS VERY NEAR THE TOP of the list of people I do not want to see this week, or ever again, but no such luck.
“Might I ask you to come over to my office, Anna? It’s difficult to discuss this over the phone.”
What’s difficult to discuss? There was a mistake about your paycheck, it has been rectified, the college is very sorry about the inconvenience this caused you. That’s the only thing I want to hear about this.
And that’s Doctor Lieberman to you, sorority girl!
There is, unfortunately, a great deal more. Amanda, in a beige turtleneck and tweed skirt (we have those in common, it seems), picks me up at her assistant’s desk. Embarrassment doesn’t come easily to her, but there is an aura around her that doesn’t bode well.
Ten minutes in, I am having trouble keeping my temper in check.
“Look, I understand that my contract was signed by the interim Provost, but surely his signature is still legally binding!”
“It is and it isn’t. I understand your disappointment, Anna. The situation is less than satisfactory.” Her poise seems more natural than last time we sat opposite each other at her desk; and this time it is up to me to listen, read and digest at the same time. “Provosts used to have the authority to fine-tune starting salaries according to the new hire’s qualifications. In keeping with this custom, and on account of your publications, Newburgh slotted you into the highest salary category for first-year tenure-track appointees. However, this policy was changed during Clement Hill’s last term, and Newburgh was apprised of this change—theoretically.”
“But surely my contract was not the only one signed by Newburgh according to the old policy. How have you proceeded in all the other cases?”
“So far I’ve had to deal with three, and they all accepted the college’s gesture of goodwill.” She pushes a contract form toward me.
“Gesture is right,” I agree after studying it. “This is still almost one hundred and fifty