Page 19 of A Cup of Autumn
But the manuscript had become a lifeline to him, providing direction and giving him another goal to pursue than a new job.
Face it.Writing was better than taking a random job he was overqualified for.
You’re so good at this I’m tempted to hand you an apron, and put you to work.
He cringed.
Raine had shocked him by suggesting he’d be a good employee.
Keaton Andrews BA, MA, PhD working as a barista?
Laughable.
Yes, but his reaction had been rude.
He should have said thank you and appreciated her for seeing him as employable. Something his university hadn’t done. He’d discovered not all non-tenured faculty in the Scandinavian Studies department had been let go. A couple had been absorbed elsewhere.
But everyone had abandoned him. Ghosted would be the more popular term. His texts and emails got no replies. He’d even tried calling but only got voicemails and no one called him back. Only Lilia stopped by his office to wish him good luck. A scribbled note taped to his former office’s door had been his goodbye to the colleagues he’d worked with for six years.
He didn’t get it.
No farewell gathering or happy hour to bid himadieu.
No card signed by everyone in the department.
No offers to introduce him to others in the field.
He’d become persona non grata. As if by associating with someone let go, they would become tainted.
The only thing Lilia said was that a few people considered him stuffy and egotistical. But that had never been mentioned in his course surveys from students or in his reviews. Yes, he’d been acting the part of a professor, but he’d made sure students found him approachable.
No dwelling on the past.
Keaton had his family in L.A. and in Silver Falls, including Brandt, his aunt Margot, and Taryn.
Another cup with another smiley face appeared in front of him.
He glanced up. “Are you a mind reader?”
The dark circles under Raine’s eyes had nothing to do with the mascara and eyeliner she wore. “I read the tea leaves in the last cup I steeped. They said you needed a refill.”
He laughed. “I did. Thanks.”
She glanced at the counter. No customers were there if that was what she wanted to check.
“I was about to work on something else,” he added. “A book. A fun project not an academic one.”
“What does a fun book mean to someone like you?”
His brows creased. “You mean someone who teaches at a college?”
“If the tweed fits…”
He grinned. “Fair enough. I wrote a fantasy novel years ago. I haven’t had time to work on it until now.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s cool. Lots of people say they want to write a book, but you’re doing it.”
Raine’s excitement brought a rush of his own. “I am. I love how the story keeps improving.”
