Page 8 of The Other Side
“Not teaching.” I shrugged. “But I have a lot of student loans to pay, so it is what it is.”
“How many degrees?” He leaned forward slightly, a curious curve to the corners of his lips.
I could get lost in those lips.
“Three.” I took a grateful sip of the water the bartender finally slid over to me.
“Gorgeous and brilliant.” Chance smiled. “An excellent combination.”
My stomach flipped at the compliment.
“Are you going to tell me what they’re in?”
“Classical history, European history, and a masters in ancient history.” I took another sip, “Oh, and my teaching certificate.”
“What got you into such archaic studies?”
“I probably watched Indiana Jones one too many times as a kid,” I replied honestly. “But I can’t afford to study or do field work abroad, so I’m here instead.”
“If money wasn’t an issue, what would you do?”
His ardency continued to crackle under my skin. I was both unnerved and delighted by feeling so drawn to him. I hadn’t felt that kind of pull in a very long time…maybe ever, really.
Whatever he asked, I wanted to answer without thinking. “Move to Europe—probably Greece,” I clarified. “Write some kind of magnum opus about Euripides or Homer.”
“How do you like teaching at Montgomery?” Chance savored a pull from his bottle.
I gave a nervous laugh. “Do you want the professional answer or the real one?”
Chance smirked at me. “I think you know which one, Violet.”
The way my name rolled off his tongue was like velvet. I resisted the impulse to shiver.
I shook my head. The magnetic pull toward Chance persisted in its disconcerting splendor, but still I found myself leaning toward him, wetting my lips as I tried not to stare at his.
“It’s difficult working there,” I finally responded.
“Why?”
“The students are entitled. The faculty are just as elitist. And they cover shit up, which doesn’t make for the safest environment. I always feel like I’m one breath away from being discarded.” He’d said he wanted the truth.
“What do they cover up?” His tone was more concerned than curious that time.
“A student went missing in May.” I probably shouldn’t have told him that. “Are you a reporter?” I asked, suddenly fearful.
“No,” Chance chuckled, shaking his head. “Your secrets are safe with me.” He reached his hand across, giving my knee areassuring squeeze, the muscles in his forearm flexing with the motion.
And then he let it rest there.
I tried to ignore my heart, hammering in my chest. I didn't think I'd ever wanted to kiss someone so badly in my entire life. He was so handsome and kind, I didn’t even care that it was probably only because of the alcohol that the impulse felt so strong.
“What happened to the student?”
“I don’t know,” I relayed. “He went missing two days before the end of the semester. The police insist he ran away and won’t take it seriously.”
“Why not?”
“Daniel was a scholarship kid, not like most of the super rich kids who go to Montgomery. They want it to go away, I think. Don’t want to spook parents or donors. But I had him in one of my classes, and he wasn’t the kind of kid to take off like that.” I took another sip of my water, feeling the weight of his disappearance so very heavily in that moment.
