How to Fail at Flirting(50)
“I don’t think it really matters, Nay.” Joe echoed Jake’s words. “From what I understand, your knowing him shouldn’t be important.” His words should have comforted me, but I hadn’t shared the whole truth. “Don’t stress about it.”
“I have this sense that our department might be in trouble, and I worry there might be a conflict of interest.”
He raised his eyebrows, and I knew him well enough to realize the action meant what do you want me to say?
“I wanted to make sure you knew, was all. I worry it will look like we’re not being evaluated fairly.”
He sighed. “I’ll make sure I mention it up the chain if I think it might be an issue, but for now, I’m not worried. There’s nothing wrong with having gone out on a few dates. You’re not marrying the guy or anything serious, right?”
That was the time to set the record straight. We’re kind of seeing each other. Just say it.
Something seized my voice, and I chickened out. In part, I didn’t know how to phrase it. Well, boss, we’re sleeping together and texting like high schoolers, and he bought me pencils and sweatpants, so you connect the dots. Then, can you tell me what you come up with?
“Good, then.” Joe shuffled a few papers around, and his attention caught on a Post-it note before he looked up again. “Oh, and I found out why Davis might be on campus. I guess he and the president used to work on some national task force together before Lewis got here. Apparently, they’re all buddy-buddy. Maybe Davis is being recruited.”
I puffed my cheeks and let the air drain slowly from between my lips. I wanted to be shocked, but I’d never been able to shake away my suspicions that his presence wasn’t temporary. I glanced away from Joe, hoping he didn’t read the panic on my face.
“I know you guys had a bad breakup. You want to—er—talk about it or anything?” Joe had gone to bat for me on campus, but we’d never talked about it, not in any real way.
Regardless of the cuts, if Davis got hired, I’d have to leave. I wouldn’t survive if he had any control and I wouldn’t be able to say anything without risking him releasing those photos or God only knew what else. “I’m good, Joe. Thanks for the heads-up.”
When I left his office, I stopped in mine to grab a few files I wanted to review at home. Plucking folders from my desk and dropping them in my bag, I paused to consider what Joe had said about Davis. He’d gotten a good job at State, and it seemed strange he’d be trying to come back. I flipped open my laptop to search for his name. The results populated quickly on the website:
Davis Garner, Business College Dean, and
Caroline Rhodes, Vice President for Research, Considered for Provost
Garner’s Record of Scholarship and Service
Makes Him Strong Candidate
Garner Favored as Provost Selection
Rhodes Selected as State’s New Provost
I glanced at the text of the articles documenting Davis’s attempt to secure one of the most senior positions at State overseeing departments and several centers. He’d been bested by a woman publicly. He must have been furious.
Davis had always loudly declared himself a feminist, calling for equal treatment and touting his many years of mentoring junior faculty members who were women. It was an act. He’d subtly chip away at accomplishments made by female colleagues, and I always wondered if he mentored so he could have a steady stream of women looking up to him. He liked people being reliant on him, especially women.
Publicly, he always complimented my work, said how proud he was that his girlfriend was part of the strong community of women making inroads in STEM. In private, he questioned my research, insinuated I was unqualified, and shamed me for not spending more time on things he thought women should, like fashion, cooking, and housekeeping. Caroline Rhodes getting selected for that position ahead of him would send him to the edge. Is that why he’s creeping into my life again? To control someone? He hated appearing weak or unwanted. Once, my team beat his at a faculty softball tournament. He’d given me the silent treatment for hours after until he’d pulled up an article I’d recently had published in a less prestigious journal, telling me everything that was wrong with my writing, my research, and me. Then he’d made me repeat back to him all the things wrong with my work until the words started to feel true.
My phone buzzed, and I cringed as I grabbed the device, expecting the unknown number to flash on the screen. I felt his fingers on my skin and shivered before flipping the phone over.
Jake: Would you prefer flat iron steak or salmon for the gala?
I exhaled a relieved breath, the curiosity about Davis’s return ebbing away from the forefront of my mind. I shook my head, willing away the memory of the last time I’d played softball. I had been a good player, and I added Rejoin the team to my list. Assuming there’s still a department next year.
Naya: You’re a fancy date. Steak, please.
Jake replied with a GIF showing SpongeBob SquarePants in a monocle, and I laughed.
Jake: I only have a few minutes, but what’re you up to?
Naya: Just finished talking to Joe.
Jake: You’ll have to tell me how he took it when we have more time. I can’t wait to see you on Saturday.