Because I trusted her more than anyone besides Kate, I told her the rest of it. The parts I’d never spoken, that kept me up at night with worry and fear.
“It’s why she wants to work for the CIA after graduation. She hasn’t said it, but I know. She wants to find out what happened to him. It consumes her. She carries his death with her.” I got up and grabbed a tissue before coming back to sit next to Jackie. “I just want her to find peace, but I don’t think she feels like she can unless she gets answers.”
Jackie’s eyes narrowed and I knew she’d realized the rest of it.
“Your father is the head of the Senate Intelligence Committee.”
She always referred to him as “your” rather than “our,” as if she wanted no claim to him, which I couldn’t exactly blame her for.
I nodded. “Kate thinks our father knows what happened to Matt. And deep down, I think she wants to destroy him.”
Chapter Fourteen
Election Day is here and all eyes are on a few key Senate races. The race in Virginia is particularly tight. Will Senator Reynolds be dethroned?
—Capital Confessions blog
Blair
My contracts professor scanned the seating chart searching for her next victim—student—to call on.
“Ms. Reynolds?”
I stifled a groan. Of all my classes, contracts was probably my favorite, but that wasn’t saying much.
“Please tell the class the Court’s holding in Lefkowitz v. Great Minneapolis Surplus Store.”
I stared down at the highlighted sections in my book, each part of the case—issue, rule, analysis, conclusion—highlighted in a different color so the sections jumped out at me on the page.
I cleared my throat, willing the nerves away. I knew this.
“The Court ruled in favor of Lefkowitz, holding that the parties showed enough mutuality of obligation to constitute a contract for sale.”
Professor Larson nodded. “Good. Why?”
This part was harder. I skimmed my notes on the case. “The Court determined that the offer was clear, definite, and explicit, leaving nothing open for negotiation. Therefore, it was an offer, and acceptance of that offer created a binding contract.”
“And what is the test of whether an advertisement constitutes a binding obligation?”
I scanned the blue-highlighted section of my notes.
“Whether performance was promised in return for something requested.”
She nodded again and gave me an approving smile. “Very good, Ms. Reynolds.”
She called on a guy in the front row next and he fumbled a bit as he answered. She was to the guys what Professor Canter was to the girls. Most of the faculty was older, not exactly fantasy material unless you had some seriously kinky fetishes. Professor Larson looked to be in her early thirties and wore plenty of tight pencil skirts and heels. The guys loved her.
My chat screen lit up with a message from Adam.
Nice job.
My “no messaging” in class rule had begun rapidly deteriorating. Law school had a way of making things slide. Caitlin hadn’t drunk caffeine until she came to law school, and now she was rarely seen without a can of Red Bull. Adam read less and less, and had stopped writing out case briefs altogether. Everyone was just trying to get by.
Thanks, I typed back.
Want to grab lunch later? he asked.
I’d been worried things would be awkward between us after I’d turned him down, but Adam was still cool. He, Caitlin, and I studied together and still hung out occasionally. I was just a lot more careful about not spending time alone with him or doing anything that would make him think I’d changed my mind.
He was a great guy, and some girl would be really lucky to date him. It just wasn’t me.
Can’t. I have a pro bono meeting to finalize things for the middle school Thanksgiving.
With Professor Canter?
Just seeing his name did funny things to my stomach.
Yes.
Good luck with that.
* * *
I headed to Gray’s office, anticipation filling me, preparing to face him for the first time since our encounter on Halloween.
I’d spent an embarrassing amount of time getting dressed this morning. I’d thought about wearing my hair in a ponytail considering his previous reactions, but that had almost seemed too obvious. I’d settled on leaving it down, long and straight, and spent more time on my makeup than usual.
Totally normal professor-student interaction.
D.C. was in the throes of fall, and I wore my favorite pair of dark brown cords, brown leather riding boots, and a camel-colored turtleneck sweater. On impulse, I’d added a faux fur vest Jackie had talked me into buying a few weeks ago. According to her, it was preppy chic. I worried it screamed, trying too hard, which could eventually be translated to, I want to bone my professor.
Clearly, I was a little paranoid. And nervous. Definitely, nervous.
It was the only break I had in my day, so we’d agreed to work for an hour while we ate, going over the final details for our upcoming 1L service project—a Thanksgiving meal for the eighth graders.
In hindsight, it was a lot to plan last minute, but it had become important to me. I loved the opportunity to get involved and spend time with the people we were trying to help. And I’d always had a soft spot for kids. And holidays.
Law school had a tendency to consume my thoughts and activities, so it was nice to have a break, to find an outlet that made me feel like I was making a difference and doing good. Right now the service project was keeping me sane.
I’d stopped at the downstairs cafe after my contracts class and bought a brownie, salad, and bottled water. On impulse, I’d snagged a brownie for Gray as well. I felt kind of stupid bringing him baked goods, and at the same time couldn’t quite resist. Kate had always said I’d mothered her—maybe it was an older sister thing—but for whatever reason, I liked taking care of people.
And despite what he said, Graydon Canter needed someone to take care of him.
I stood in front of his office, raising my fist to knock on the closed door. I was more nervous than I cared to admit, not sure if things were even okay between us. We’d only spoken through our school emails, so I had no clue if he was angry with the way I’d left things between us when I’d walked away from him at the carnival, or if he was upset about the jabs I’d thrown.
Maybe the brownie was a peace offering. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing anymore.
The door swung open. I froze.
Professor Larson stood on the other side, a smile on her face that years of feminine intuition immediately recognized and did not like. A sinking feeling filled me.
I didn’t know much about her, but thanks to the guys who crushed on her, I knew she didn’t wear a wedding band, and according to gossip, was single.
By the look in her eyes, she was trying to change that.
She smiled at me. “Ms. Reynolds.”
I tried to smile back, my heart pounding, a million emotions hitting me at once. Because Gray and I had kissed, because of everything, I was acutely aware of how inappropriate our relationship really was. We’d been pretty good at keeping it away from the law school, but in that moment, I feared there was something in my face and eyes, something like I saw on her, that screamed how I really felt about Gray.
And because I felt the way I did, because I liked him more than I should, the sight of Professor Larson—smart, pencil-skirt-and-high-heel-wearing Professor Larson—standing in Gray’s office, wearing a smile that said she liked him, caused a pang in my chest.