Page 9 of The Queen (Masterpiece Duet 2)
He frowns. “Gone, as in she quit?”
“As in she didn’t show up for work one morning. Another girl stopped by her apartment a week ago. The door was kicked in. No trace of Jessica or her baby.”
“Damn,” he mutters softly. “A baby? Did they call the police?”
I flush, uncertain how to explain the lawless city I come from, that Jessica may have run from the cops themselves. “It’s complicated, but I’m afraid something is wrong. I have to go home.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
My mouth falls open. The offer stuns me. I can’t imagine showing Dr. Stanhope the dark streets of Tanglewood, but the prospect of having help steals my breath. “You would do that?”
He smiles a little, self-deprecating. “I must have done a worse job communicating than I thought. I care about you, Penny. Deeply. I would do a lot for you. Probably more than bears mentioning.”
Two men saying they care about me in a twenty-four hour period is more than my heart can take. After a lifetime of wanting only one person to care, two is too many. “We’re in the middle of a semester.”
One eyebrow rises, as if he’s surprised I’m considering it. “That’s the benefit of tenure. I can take an emergency absence.”
“Am I an emergency?” I ask faintly.
“Since the first time you raised your hand in my class.”
My mind shifts through the entry-level class. What did I raise my hand to ask? I’m embarrassed at how naive I must have been, fresh out of Tanglewood and thinking I knew everything. “It must have been ridiculous.”
He shakes his head, not really denying it—more like he’s still stunned by me, three years later. “You had the most perfect explanation of string theory I’ve ever heard. Not only from an undergraduate. From PhDs on the subject. But you didn’t know how to access the syllabus.”
Humiliation burns in my chest. I had barely ever used the Internet. There was a computer lab in my high school, but the roof had leaked, and it had been closed the whole time I went there. Then I had taken my GED to get out early. It had felt too much like a farce to sit down and pretend not to know anything after I had seen the devil himself.
When I got a perfect score on the SATs, Avery and Gabriel pulled some strings so Smith College would look at me. When I scored the ninety-ninth percentile on their admissions test, they let me in.
“I don’t know how you didn’t laugh at me,” I say, cheeks flaming.
“God, Penny. I wish you could see yourself like I do.”
I turn my face away, unable to look at him. Unable to have him look at me. How does he see me? He catches my chin and turns me toward him. My eyelids must weigh a thousand pounds. I can’t raise my gaze to meet his. Not until he lifts me from the couch, pulling me onto his lap.
I’m too stunned to protest. I look at him, shocked and strangely excited. His brown eyes are darker than usual, still soft, but with desire now.
And there’s something hard pressing against my hip.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Nothing yet,” he says softly, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You looked like you needed someone to hold you.”
A shudder runs through my body, a visceral reaction to his words. I need someone to hold me, desperately. I need him to hold me. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“Then who you are?” he asks, his expression tender.
I’m the girl who’s saying goodbye. “Where I grew up, it’s not like here. It’s dangerous. Daddy is mixed up in something bad. And it might be my fault.”
“Is it?” His voice is thoughtful. “Or do you want it to be?”
The question rings in my ears long after I leave his office.
Chapter Six
“Tell me to stay,” I ask Avery, almost desperate for her to convince me. “Tell me to stay at Smith College, to ignore what’s going on at home, to do whatever I have to do to finish here.”
“Is that what you want to do?” she asks quietly.
We’re in her penthouse suite, curled up on the antique sofa with a plush throw blanket and a bucket of popcorn. I’ve already put in my formal request to take a leave of absence and booked the flight for tomorrow. Which makes this goodbye.
“I don’t have a choice,” I say, though we both know that isn’t true.
A haunted expression crosses her pretty face. She always looks so put together. Even in class her nails are perfectly shaped and her lip gloss in place. Her makeup is never overdone, but it’s definitely polished. Only when she’s in her suite does she let her guard down.
“Look, I want to support you. Especially with how hard this must be. But I feel like I should say… you can stay. You should stay. Your father is your past. This is your future.”
