His arm along the back of the seat edged closer to her shoulders. “Speaking of Iowa, don’t you know Tricia Becker?”
Amanda glanced sidelong at him as he slowed the car. “She and I shared some classes. Why do you ask?”
“We had some good times together. I was wondering if you and I might do that, too—have some good times.” He reached over and covered her nearest hand with his.
“Tricia likes to play around. I don’t.”She pulled her hand away. “I’m not into fun and games. My career is important to me. And this is a small town. The kind of playing Tricia likes is more easily hidden on a big campus like Iowa than here at Buckley.” Her smile was tight. “I’m sure you know what I’m inferring.”
“Seattle’s just down the road. Don’t people ever leave this little burg for the big city?”
“Some do, but I’m more of a homebody. And Cecelia keeps me pretty busy.”
They turned the corner, and he stopped the car where she pointed.
“Come on. I’ll show you the marina. Then we need to head back.”
They walked along the path that skirted the docks and piers. When the wind blew her sweater off one shoulder, Evan reached up and wrapped it around her, leaving his hand on her arm a bit too long, before sliding it down her back. Amanda walked faster.
“Amanda, you’re acting like a scared rabbit. I won’t bite. Wait up.” He picked up his pace to catch up with her.
“Evan, Greg asked me to show you around.” She reached in her purse for her sunglasses. “I get the distinct impression you want more than a tour of the area.”
“You read signals well.” He caught her hand and pulled her over to a seat near the waterfront. “What was that?” He pointed to the water, where a dark head emerged briefly.
She craned her neck to look in the direction he was pointing. “Probably a harbor seal. We see a lot of them around here.”
“Back to my signals—your signals. Tricia told me to look you up. She didn’t tell me you would be so standoffish. What’s that about—or don’t you like men anymore?” Evan grinned at her.
“What I like or don’t like is no concern of yours. We are colleagues in the same department. Let’s just leave it at that.” She refused to look at him, instead concentrating on the antics of the two harbor seals near the dock.
He sat back on the bench. “Then tell me about the department. Who are the movers and shakers?”
In spite of her misgivings, Amanda began to relax at that question. “Our chair is a delight—very supportive, and insistent that we each do our part to offer good courses. You’ve seen the list of general classes. You’ll be doing some of them, as well as those in the creative writing section. JJ is one of the senior people here. She may be near retirement age, but her poems continue to appear in some of the best outlets. Be nice to her. If you don’t take her opinions seriously, you’ll regret it. Her insights are always on target.”
He nodded. “JJ. You mean Jessica—the one with the gray hair—wears it in a bun.”
“Yes.”
“Any others I should be especially respectful to?”
“All of us. We take our work seriously. You know you’re expected to teach—that’s your primary responsibility here.” She pulled her sweater closer. “But Greg expects you to work on those mysteries and get them published.”
“Publish or perish?”
“Not as much as elsewhere, but don’t forget that those activities—professional activities—shouldn’t be ignored.”
He reached out for her hand again. “What about the social action? Or does one have to leave town for that?”
She knew what he was asking and pulled her hand out from under his. Indirection was not going to work with him. “Bedding a married—or divorced—faculty member isn’t a good idea. I—”
“You heard about that?”
She nodded.
“What about the single ones?”
“Make sure they are single—and stay away from the students. You know the rules about that. They were in existence at Iowa, too.”
“Such a serious face, Amanda.” He emitted a dramatic sigh. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“No. Consider it fair warning. You could have your pick here, but you’ll be out on your ear if Greg catches even a whiff of impropriety. He won’t put up with that. Neither will any of the senior faculty or the leadership of the college. Our reputation is paramount, and we are in a small town.”
“So, what do people do for fun—the wholesome kind?”