Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
He looks me up and down, leering. “So are you, Angela Steel.”
“It’s Simpson, dumbass.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but it may as well be Steel. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth like the rest of them. You have no idea what it’s like for us regular people.”
“You know,” I say, “Tabitha and Eli are regular people, and they seem to accept me just fine. And yeah, I was born to great privilege. I didn’t ask for it.”
“So you’d give it back in a heartbeat?” He scoffs.
“Hell, no.” I look him straight in the eye with my hands on my hips. “Would you?”
He says nothing for a few seconds, until, “So did you check out Dr. Lansing online?”
I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of telling him I did. That I now know Jason is a widower who lost his only child.
Speaking of such a trauma with Ralph seems like I’d be bastardizing it.
“Haven’t had the time yet,” I say.
“Right.” He scoffs again.
“You need to get a life.” I walk away.
“I had a life once,” he says just loud enough for me to hear. “But it was destroyed long ago.”
I stop in my tracks. That was an odd thing to say. I almost turn around to ask him what the hell he means by that, but then I realize he’s just saying cryptic shit to weird me out. Going back would be giving him exactly what he wants.
I keep walking until I’ve left the building.
Crap. I’m still holding Ralph’s notes, but I’d rather poke my own eyes out than go back to him. I’ll return them later. I stuff them into my backpack and get in my car.
Chapter Two
Jason
Sitting in Human Resources isn’t what I had in mind this morning, especially not after I realized that suicide note is not in Lindsay’s handwriting.
Thoughts thunder through my mind.
I suppress the trembling that wants to take over my body.
Lindsay didn’t write that note.
Maybe she had someone else write it for her.
But why would she do that?
And if she did that, someone else has knowledge of what happened. Of why she did what she did.
I mean, I know why she did it. Depression, the loss of Julia. Her refusal to blame me.
Even though I know she did.
“Dr. Lansing,” Regina Morales, the head of HR says, “I suppose you wonder why you’re here.”
“It’s crossed my mind.”
Except that I don’t give a rat’s ass why I’m here. All I can think about is that note. Lindsay.
Who the hell wrote it?
Or is it her handwriting? I mean, I’m no expert. It’s been three years since I’ve seen her write anything.
Do I even have anything to check it against? Only her signature on documents. Lindsay didn’t write much. She mostly typed on her computer.
But she did grade papers by hand sometimes. The few times they were turned in as hardcopies rather than online.
I need to go home. Go through Lindsay’s things…
Except…
I got rid of most of it. It was all too painful to look at.
What I didn’t get rid of I gave to her parents.
“Dr. Lansing…”
I jerk. “Yes, sorry.”
“We’re sorry to take you away from your work this morning,” Regina says. “Richard here”—she nods to her assistant, Richard Decker—“received an email this morning that’s a bit troubling.”
I lift my eyebrows. Shit. Angie wouldn’t—
“It seems there’s been an allegation of some misconduct with a student.”
I keep my expression impassive—or try to at least. “Oh?”
“Do you have any idea what we might be referring to?”
I blink. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
“You should know, Dr. Lansing,” Richard says, “that this allegation did not come from a student who is accusing you of anything.”
“I suppose that’s good.” Again, I keep my face impassive. “Whatever it is, I can assure you there’s no basis for any of it.”
“The email was anonymous,” Richard says. “It said only that you were seen kissing one of your students in your anatomy lab.”
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
So it’s not Angie.
But what if someone saw us?
God, did they see us fucking in the lab as well?
No. If that were the case, they would’ve led with it. That’s way bigger than a kiss.
Both Richard and Regina are looking at me.
Am I supposed to say something? Deny it?
I don’t like lying, but who the hell would send such an email?
“I’m not sure how you want me to respond,” I say. “I can assure you that nothing untoward has happened between me and any of my students.”
Not exactly a lie. Angie and I both wanted that kiss.
“We’re not here to accuse you of anything, Dr. Lansing,” Regina says.
“I responded to the email,” Richard says. “I asked for more details, but my response didn’t go through.”
“Then it sounds like this was no more than a prank,” I say.
“Probably,” Regina says, “but can you think of anyone who might want to make trouble for you?”