Man Who Loved Pride and Prejudice (19 page)

   What did Rob want? To humiliate her for her schoolgirl fantasies? "Yes."

   "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd let any man be that important to you."

   She had never expected it either. What kind of crazy, self-destructive game was she playing? Why Calder, whom she hardly knew? Suddenly it was too much for her. Without a word or even a look, she turned down the narrow hall into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Rob would have to let himself out.

   
Embedded in Amber,
Calder's first book, lay on her bedside table under the ceramic lamp with a crack down the side. Cassie placed her hand on it as if it offered some essence of Calder himself. But that was illusory. All she had of him was a three-sentence email, no doubt written off the cuff at some moment when he had nothing to do beyond remembering an old flame of sorts. She sat down on the bed and pulled her knees up, finally letting the tears leak out of her eyes. Tomorrow she would have to pull herself together and act as if nothing had happened, but tonight for once she would let herself feel.

   The bedroom door opened quietly. Rob stood silhouetted in the light from the living room for a moment and then made his way over to the bed and sat down beside her in the half-darkness. "There's a reason why you're faculty and I'm still a post-doc." His voice was rueful. "I'm not as smart as you are. But sitting out there I worked out that I'd rather comfort you while you cry over another man than walk away. I know it won't change anything, but at least I can be here as your friend." He put his arm around her shoulder.

   She knew she should tell him to leave, but instead she turned her face into his shoulder and cried.

Rob finally left when she cried herself into exhaustion. After a night of fitful sleep, Cassie woke alone to a gray morning. She would have to get used to waking up alone again. There would be no more chances to start over with Rob, and there never had been a chance with Calder.

   There was no reason to rush to the lab on a Saturday morning. Chris had the day off, and Cassie had the rest of her life to sit in her lab. But her computer was at the lab, and it drew her like a magnet.

   Sitting down in front of it, she drew a deep breath before opening her email program and clicking on Deleted Items. She didn't remember when she had emptied it last. Quickly, she scrolled through it.

   The email from Calder was still there. She dragged it back to her inbox and read it. It was just as she had remembered it.

   Calder was beyond her reach. She would never see him again, as his lover or even as his friend. That was reality. But it helped to know she still crossed his mind occasionally. Was there anything wrong with staying in occasional contact, as long as she understood the limitations?

   Chewing her lip, she clicked on
Reply.

She felt an odd relief as she pressed
Send.

Cassie could tell Rob was avoiding her. She hadn't spoken to him since that night. Through the lab door she had seen him walking down the hall a few times over the last several days, but he had studiously avoided looking in. She had tried to respect his wishes by staying away from his end of the floor. Chris had maintained such a complete silence on the subject that she was sure Rob must have talked to him.

   Today he didn't walk past but came into the lab carrying a plastic bag. He looked tired.

   She swiveled her chair to face her assistant. "Chris, I'm going to be on this for a while. Would you mind running into town to get me a sandwich?"

   "Sure." Chris stood up and stretched and then noticed Rob. "Your usual, I assume?"

   "That'll be great." Cassie handed Chris a ten-dollar bill, and he loped out of the lab with a last glance over his shoulder. He probably hoped they would make up while he was gone.

   Rob deposited the bag on her desk. "Some odds and ends of yours I found lying around my place when I packed up. I'm heading back to Chapel Hill tomorrow."

   "I thought you were here for another week." Cassie felt guilty at his atypically sober countenance.

   "Jim asked me to go back early to take care of some things for him."

   She had no doubt Jim had manufactured whatever business he had for Rob, but it relieved her to hear it. Knowing Rob was just down the hall hadn't been easy. "I hope you have a good trip back." It was a little lame, but she had to say something.

   "Right. See you." He turned to go.

   "Rob?" There was a hesitation before he turned back to her. "What happened the other night was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you. It wasn't something lurking in the back of my mind the whole time."

   He raised one shoulder in a brief shrug. "Thanks for saying that, but it doesn't really matter. I realized afterwards it really had nothing to do with another man."

   "It didn't?"

   "That night was the first time I'd ever seen your real feelings. The first time. That told me more about what I meant to you than anything you said."

   Cassie rested her chin on her elbow. "That's not about you, or what you mean to me. That's who I am. It's always going to be an issue for me." How could she share her feelings about a life she had to hide?

   "Something to work on in your
next
relationship."

   "What next relationship? Do you think I'm going to find someone who's better suited to me than you? We share interests, I enjoy your company and your sense of humor, you understand about my job. Nobody's going to beat that."

   "There's no need for melodrama. I didn't mean you needed to give up on men."

   "No, I know you didn't. I was just telling you what I think, but it's probably best if we drop it there."

   He hesitated. "Maybe it would help if you talked to someone about this. Someone professional, that is."

   It would be nice to think all problems could be fixed somehow. "It's okay, Rob. If there's one thing in life I'm good at, it's facing facts and learning to deal with them. I'll be fine."

   His face closed down. "Of course. Well, I'll see you around."

   "Right. Take care." Cassie watched him leave and then pulled out her data notebook. There was no point in thinking about things she would never have. At least there was still her work and the salt marsh.

CASSIE FELT A SUDDEN burst of gladness when an email from Calder popped up on her computer. She had told herself again and again not to expect a reply.

To: C. Boulton From: C. Westing

   The Incas. Was that just random, or did you know I lived in Ecuador for a while?

   All right… who was the author of
Summa
Theologica?
No fair looking up the answer!

To: C. Boulton From: C. Westing

   Ouch. Kuala Lumpur, but I had to cheat. I'd never even heard of those rivers. Where did you dig that one up?

To: C. Boulton From: C. Westing

   Just Italy and Ecuador, I'm afraid. It's that limited university education, you know.

Cassie knocked on the door of the English Department conference room at Haverford. The email she'd received from Professor Amy Gottschalk had asked her to stop by the English House for a meeting at three o'clock. Cassie couldn't imagine why the English department would suddenly be interested in a biologist, and a junior faculty member at that, but Amy was a good friend. Maybe they wanted to do some sort of interdepartmental course. She'd be the logical choice for that, since the other Biology faculty members' interests didn't extend to literature.

   The door was opened by Dr. Yang, the notoriously intimidating chairman of the English department. "Thank you for stopping by, Dr. Boulton. Won't you have a seat?" He gestured to the conference table where a half dozen English professors sat.

   Amy Gottschalk flashed her a reassuring smile. "Thanks for coming. We're hoping to pick your brain about a writer."

   The English department wanted to ask a biologist about a writer? Maybe they wanted a science writer, someone like Stephen Jay Gould. "I can't imagine what I'd know about a writer that all of you don't."

   Dr. Yang shuffled the pile of papers in front of him, his eyes narrowed like a judge reading the charges against a defendant. "Stephen West, Dr. Boulton."

   Cassie's cheeks grew warm. It was the last thing she expected to hear. Had she mentioned his writing to Amy, long before she knew who he was? "I've read his books, but I don't know how much else I can tell you."

   "I understand you've met him." Dr. Yang made it sound like a crime.

   Her breath froze in her throat. How on earth had he found out? "Yes, we've met. How did you know?"

   Amy said, "You're mentioned in the acknowledgments for his latest book."

   "I am?" An odd thrill went through her. "I didn't know his new book was out."

   Amy handed her a hardcover. The title was emblazoned across the cover in elegant gold lettering: Prid
e
& Presumption.
Above the title was a stylized drawing of a couple in attire of the early nineteenth century. Below it, a photograph of a modern young woman on a deserted beach, looking out to sea, with a man standing beside her, his eyes fixed upon her. Amy said, "This is a pre-publication copy. He's applied for the writerin-residence position for next semester. We're interviewing him on Thursday. That's why we're looking for information."

   Her heart started racing. Calder would be there on Thursday? She flipped the book open to the acknowledgments page and her name jumped out at her.

   Dr. Yang cleared his throat, as if annoyed at her distraction. "There are a number of things about his candidacy that puzzle me. First, he's overqualified. This position is designed for writers who are just breaking into the field, and the salary is commensurate with that. Stephen West has two critically acclaimed novels, and a third coming out. Second, he has no teaching credentials at all, but even so, he could get a better-paying job just on the basis of name recognition. It's hard to take his interest in the job seriously, given the salary. Perhaps most curiously, we can't find any information about him. None at all, beyond the resume he sent us. Hence our interest in what you might have to say."