from under the chair. I am wearing Victorian-style lace-up half-boots, what I think of as my Mary Poppins boots.
“Very nice.” Dancey nods, like a benevolent uncle. “But they are hard-soled, aren’t they? And so many floors of our building are stone-tiled—”
He seems to be saying that my heels are too noisy, but at the same time I cannot believe that this is what he is saying, because I have never heard anything so absurdly petty. So I shake my head to signal my puzzlement.
“I’m afraid to say, Anna, that I’ve had a complaint about the noise your heels make. It’s always a question of what our neighbors are willing to tolerate, isn’t it? When I was a graduate assistant at Princeton, there was a very senior professor who used to listen to Wagner in his office—drove us crazy! I’m sure you wouldn’t want any of your colleagues to feel that you disrespect their right to a quiet work environment.”
“Of course I wouldn’t, and I’m sorry to hear this, but—”
“I just felt I ought to give you a little hint, Anna. You will know best how to respond in this case. Now, you came to see me about…?”
Choose your battles.
“My paycheck, sir. It’s just a misunderstanding, I’m sure, a mistake, but I wanted to first consult with you how best to proceed to get it rectified. It doesn’t match my contract.”
Downplay your annoyance.
Appeal to wisdom of higher-ups in sorting out your life.
“Salary issues are always sensitive.”
“Well, simple, too, in this case, I hope.” I cast a beaming smile at him and extract the sheets from the folder I have brought. “The contract I signed in June specifies my salary and the major benefits…here. My check, however, doesn’t match. By a fairly substantial margin, in fact.”
Dancey eyes me with evident misgivings before he takes the documents that I’m offering him.
“I consider such a mistake highly unlikely.”
“Well, sir, if you’ll compare the two sums—”
He begins to suck in his lower lip and chew his beard even before he can have found the relevant passages in the two documents.
“Ah, well, this—” he waves my contract in the air “—was signed by Greg Newburgh. He was interim Provost, after Clement Hills died. Were you told about Clement? Such a tragic story. He was one of the best administrators I ever worked with. We were undergraduates at Princeton together. He dropped dead in the middle of a meeting. Cardiac arrest. Such a loss, that man.”
“Sudden deaths are always especially shocking.”
“So naturally everything was at sixes and sevens over at Rossan.” A row of teeth gleams inside the beard, although his eyes do not crease at all. “I’m afraid I cannot help you with this, Anna.” He hands me back the two sheets. “This is a good salary for someone in your position, a first-year assistant professor, so maybe you want to consider your next step carefully.”
“I do—that is why I came to see you first, to ask for your advice in this matter.”
“Well, you heard my advice. Salary re-negotiations are invariably time-consuming and generally frustrating for all involved.” He gets up to show me out. Throw me out.
“I see that, sir.” I have no choice, I must rise, too. “But I’m not looking to re-negotiate at all. I believe a mistake has been made, which can easily be corrected. Surely this is in the best interests of everyone involved.”
“And surely it will be, next month. I suggest you wait for the next check, instead of kicking up a great fuss now.”
“I’m not—”
“Anyway, given that in your opinion Ardrossan is not a top university, I wonder how you can expect a top salary.”
For a moment or two, all I can do is stare at him.
“Sir, I—what can you mean? Of course I consider Ardrossan to be a top university!”
“You do? I’m glad to hear it.” He registers my loss of composure with satisfaction. “Have you seen the article about you in the The Folly? A very nice photograph, if I may say so.”
“N-No, I haven’t. Thank you, sir.”
He pulls a copy out from under a pile of folders and leafs through it.
“They found the opportunity to speak to some students after your first classes…this bit was interesting: ‘Dr. Lieberman brings a kind of energy and intensity to the classroom that some Ardrossan students may need time to get used to. A taste of academic life in the Big Apple.’ Well—” he looks up at me “—I wouldn’t call that negative feedback, would you?”
“Certainly not, sir. Energy and