Page 97 of Let's Call a Truce
“I do not know. I’m still in shock. Why did she even offer it to me? It should be yours. You have way more experience with students and saved me over the summer with your advice. And I promise I made sure everyone I talked to from Billings knew that.”
“I’m staff.” Her shrug said she wasn’t surprised she didn’t get the offer.
“I guess it makes sense. They don’t want to lose you in your current position.”
“No, not so much that. They wouldn’t offer a professorship to a staff member. Staff is staff and faculty is faculty, and ne’er the twain shall meet.”
“That’s ridiculous. So what you’re saying is Billings is toxic and I should run? Because that would make this a lot simpler.”
Quinn laughed. “No, not toxic, per se. Okay, maybe a tiny bit toxic, but a lot of small colleges have weird dynamics between the faculty and staff. I love Billings so much, and I’m not just saying that to manipulate you into living by me. It’s a great place to work. For all my complaining about the professors, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. I don’t want my bitching to give you the wrong impression. If the job sounds fun to you, I’m sure you’d be happy here. Just don’t let the faculty turn you against me.”
“You suck. Why won’t anyone tell me what to do?” I asked with a pathetic whimper.
She shrugged as we were all called back to our tables for the meal.
Dinner was surprisingly fun. They sat us with a few professors Ben and I met in April plus some other alumni, and the meal passed in a happy blur of shared stories. The professors’ stories about their students ranged from sweet to downright horrifying, and I noticed James always tried to steer the conversation away from the latter. I knew he wanted me to think the best of the job, but I remembered what I was like at eighteen. I knew it wouldn’t always be glamorous.
The alumni in return shared their stories about Billings, their favorite memories or haunts, and why they chose the school themselves.
“What about you, Eduardo?” asked an alumna who had just finished recounting her family’s long history with the school. “Why was it Billings for you?”
“Money.” Eduardo’s quick reply had the whole table laughing.
“But really, I am the son of Cuban refugees who came to Florida with nothing to their names. They worked and scraped their whole lives to provide for us, but there is only so much success you can achieve without education and little understanding of the language.
“Billings saw my potential and offered me a full-ride scholarship. It changed my life. I would not have been able to afford college otherwise. Everything I have achieved, every building my company has created, every person I’ve employed—all of these are because of that initial investment from them. And now I try to follow their example and invest in people where I see potential, even if they don’t seem like they have the perfect set of experiences on paper.”
He looked at me with a small smile. I appreciated the sentiment but was also feeling the pressure with James by my side, hoping I would choose the Billings position.
As the plates were cleared away, a big band made its way onto the stage and began playing jazz music. People started filtering out onto the floor, and before I knew it, James was offering me his hand.
“Care to dance, beautiful?” He wiggled his eyebrows, and I laughed.
“You are a shameless flirt.” But I took his hand and let him tow me to the dance floor. He was an excellent dancer, leading me confidently in a quick swing. I hadn’t danced like this in years, and I wasn’t the most coordinated individual on a good day. The fact that we made it through two songs without any crushed toes was a testament to his skill.
As we finished the second song, I caught Ben watching fromour table, arms crossed across his chest and eyes hard. It felt like a bolt of lightning shot through me, and I excused myself from the dance floor, desperately in need of another drink.
At the bar, Maureen cornered me. “Did you read over the offer?”
Over her shoulder, I saw Eduardo watching us, and my heart ratcheted up.
“I did, thank you. I’ll need time to talk it through with my family, but it is extremely generous.”
Eduardo’s eyes were still on us, and he was now joined by Ben, who looked even more pissed off than he had when I was dancing. I excused myself, not able to have this conversation under their watchful gaze.
There was a fire underneath my skin. I caught sight of Stephanie, her eyes bouncing between me and Ben as he continued to glare. James tried to coax me into another dance, but I needed to get away. Getting in each breath was a battle as I pushed through the crowd toward the exit. Quinn tried to flag me down with a concerned look on her face, but I continued on like I hadn’t seen her. I felt like everyone was trying to grab a piece of me, and I wasn’t sure which parts I was willing to give away.
I burst out of the ballroom, desperate for a little space to clear my head. I headed down the hallway, finding an out-of-use meeting room. I leaned forward, slamming my palms on the long table, trying to catch my breath. Four seconds in. Hold for seven. Eight seconds out. My heart was pounding like I had run a marathon, and my throat tightened.
I called on all my old coping mechanisms. Visions of my girls, laughing and running through a field. My mantra about control, how this was temporary. The breathing exercises to calm my heart rate and loosen my muscles. I had just gotten it under control when the door opened behind me.
“Are you really leaving?”
My eyes dropped closed again, heart tightening in my chest. I turned to find a furious Ben standing before me.
“I don’t know,” I answered weakly.
“So, what, we break up and you abandon everything and everyone?”
