The Lie(103)

It’s around dinner time though, and I’m just about to suggest to Natasha that we get something to eat, something to celebrate, when my phone rings.

I pick up my mobile and eye the number.

It’s Sarah, the department chair.

My eyes widen and I’m suddenly nervous all over again.

I answer it. “Brigs speaking.”

“Brigs,” Sarah says. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“No, no,” I say quickly, plugging up my ear to hear her better.

“I stopped by your office but you weren’t there,” she says. “I just wanted to let you know that I talked it over with Phillip, as well as Charles Irving since he’s most senior, trying to get a third opinion.”

I groan inwardly, feeling all that hope dash away. Irving hates me and he doesn’t seem fond of Natasha either.

“Because you had a relationship of sorts with her before, we decided that you can be free to pursue a relationship with Miss Trudeau now,” she says and I don’t think I’ve ever exhaled so loud before. “Based on the following grounds: she is not to ever take any of your classes, nor can she interact with you at the school in anyway, that means going to your office, stopping by your class, department fundraisers or events, or any action that might give the wrong impression. What you do in your own spare time off campus is none of our business. She’s nearly thirty and you’re both consenting adults. But the moment any of those lines are crossed and this program’s reputation is on the line, we’re afraid you’re going to have to resign.”

“You won’t have to worry about that,” I tell her. Natasha is leaning forward in her seat, staring at me expectantly.

“I trust you Brigs,” she says. “You’re a good teacher and frankly you deserve a little good fortune.”

Ah. So that’s why I was given the exception. The pity vote. Well, I’ll fucking take it.

“Thank you so much, Sarah,” I tell her graciously. “And tell that to Charles and Phillip, too.”

I hang up the phone and Natasha is already grinning at me, her eyebrows raised. “Well?”

“They discussed it with your beloved Professor Irving,” I tell her.

Her eyes go round. “Oh no,” she exclaims.

I shrug, smiling. “Well, I don’t know, I guess the old bastard likes you after all.”

“What do you mean?”

“They said I can keep my job.”

She nearly jumps out of her chair, clapping her hands together. “Are you serious? Brigs this is amazing! Oh my god, I can’t believe it.”

“Well, we have to pretend we don’t know each other when we’re at school,” I tell her. “Which means no more office dates like this. But I think we can make up for it when you move in with me.”

“What?”

“Come live with me,” I implore her. “Today. Tonight. Let’s get your stuff and get you the hell out of there.”

“Are you sure?” she asks though her eyes are already dancing with the thought.

“Natasha, you’re pregnant with my child,” I remind her, automatically smiling at the thought. It will never stop getting old, never stop feeling amazing. “And we’re free to be with each other outside of the school. There’s no one to fear. Unless Winter has any objections, you’re moving in with me.”

“Okay,” she says quietly, blinking at me in amazement. “Tonight?”

“Right fucking now,” I tell her, getting up. “Come on, let’s go. You’re pretty much packed aren’t you?”

She nods. “And Melissa?”

My smile is probably wolfish. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”

We leave the school together, both of us anxious, excited, delirious. It’s all moving so fast and yet it doesn’t seem fast enough. I want her in my flat, I want to wake up to her every morning, I want to live with her shining beside me. The fact that we’ve just (narrowly) been granted freedom almost feels like we’ve been pardoned from jail and the way we rush through the streets together, touching, kissing, laughing just cements this.

But we aren’t out of the woods yet. When we get back to my flat – our flat – I have to fight against the urge to take her the moment we step inside. We still have something important to deal with and our nerves won’t rest until it’s put to bed.

Because the Aston Martin probably won’t make it across town and wouldn’t fit any of her stuff regardless, we have to hire a van. Luckily I’ve seen Max make plenty of deliveries to and from The Volunteer with his van, so we head across the street and see if he’ll do us this favor.