Chapter Fourteen
Tenn
Hearing Greer slipping on his shoes to leave was officially my least favorite way to wake up followed a distant second by a spider crawling on my face. Yes. It was that awful.
The night before had been so amazing. We’d cuddled and chatted, taken a shower that was more intimate than sex somehow, and slept wrapped in each other’s arms. Waking to him leaving put an end to our time together for the meantime, and that hit me like a rock to the gut. What was it about this omega that had me so completely twisted around in the best of ways possible? “I don’t want you to go.” Yeah, I was that alpha.
“Shrimp,” was all he said, and I immediately was flooded with guilt.
“I should’ve had you go get him.” I sat up and wiped the sleep from my eyes as the covers dropped to my lap.
“He was fine. Next time.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek, a wise move given my stinky morning breath.
Next time. The words were magical. The connection I felt to him was strong—stronger than any I’d felt in—in ever, but to hear him say he felt at least along those lines—magical.
He left, promising to talk to me soon, which sadly was probably all we would do between his booming business and my taking over the classes of a professor who had not only been teaching forever, but never changed his methods in all those years. That meant I needed to get everything ADA compliant for both sight and sound, align the grading system with that of the school, fill out student plans for those who were at risk of failing for the semester—and only four weeks in there were already those—and get everything into the web system the college had adopted four years earlier.
There was no way the professor was still around for his skill. Nope. He was there, thanks to tenure and nothing more.
A quick shower, one filled with visions of the far better shower I’d taken the night before, and a bowl of cereal later, and I was out the door and on my way to the one place I’d dreaded going ever since I was a small boy—my mother’s office. Dr. Black was revered by her peers and feared by her students. I got the fear part, not because she would ever harm them, but because her expectations for everyone here were unattainable. I was exhibit A for that one.
I wasn’t the starter on any of my varsity teams freshman year, as if being on a varsity team my first year in high school wasn’t a glorious achievement in and of itself. I got an Aminus in advanced biology sophomore year. I was salutatorian, not valedictorian of my class. Yeah, all of that fail before I ventured out to college where the disappointments continued.
After being denied tenure, I gave up. Not on life or on success, but on trying to meet her expectations. That was when I began traveling and exploring new cultures. She called me a nomad as if that were the name of the vile stuff you step in, but eventually conceded that if she wasn’t nicer or at least less awful, I probably would be around less than I already was.
I drove into the parking spot that was temporarily mine, the professor I was covering for out on family medical leave. I could do anything for a couple of months, I reminded myself for the fifth time since I’d been summoned to her office.
Technically we weren’t in the same department. That didn’t stop her from interfering from the get-go. There were days I regretted applying. And then there were the steady paychecks that nullified that completely.
I wove my way through the maze that was campus until I found myself in front of her office, just standing there. I had no idea what she wanted. Knowing her, it could have nothing to do with the college or everything to do with it. She was a conundrum, to say the very least.
“Come in, Tennyson.” No one called me that save her, and hearing her say it without middle naming me gave me some hope this was going to be a pleasant visit.
I stepped inside and had an inward battle over whether to shut the door. Did I want privacy or the protection listening ears would bring? I opted for privacy, closing it gently and taking a seat in front of her desk. Goodness forbid we sit at her table as equals.
“Hi, Mom.” I slapped on a smile. It wasn’t going to be bad. Not that bad anyway. Fine. It was going to suck, but I was a grown-ass alpha. I could handle my mama.
“Tennyson.” There was some sanction in her voice. Of course there was. “It has come to my attention that not all of your curriculum presentations have been converted to be ADA compliant.”
Fuck me.
“I have all of the notes completed as well as the assessments. I have cut the one film presentation completely since it is outdated enough to not be available on DVD or streaming and therefore unable to be closed-captioned.” Great. I was called into the principal’s office for something I didn’t do, but the principal was my freaking mom. “All instructional materials should be compliant at this point.”
“Should, but are not.” She pushed a piece of paper at me.
“Those were from my first day when I filled out my paperwork, grabbed my materials, and walked straight to class. I assure you the others are compliant. And if you are so concerned about this, why has she been teaching this way all these years?”
Sass. I sassed my mother. I so knew better.
“Tennyson Byron Black, I will not have you disrespect me or this college. Professor Johanson’s compliance or lack thereof is not any of your concern. What is your concern—if you would like to have a job past this semester—is your performance. I have bent over backward to give you this opportunity, and look how you repay me. Especially after—after.” Her jaw tightened, her lips pursed, her eyes glared.
“You’re right,” I lied. I learned long ago it was easier that way. “I will make sure that is the only incident of noncompliance.” I pushed on the arms of the chair to stand, only to be given the look, the one that told me to get back down. I complied.
“I was mortified when you blew your opportunity to become a tenured faculty member here. I deal with that shame daily.”
Because, of course, it was about her.
I bit my tongue, just wanting to get out of there.
“I have been reassured that if you turn Professor Johanson’s classes around to be compliant with all school and federal policies, that you will be considered for an adjunct position.”
Adjunct. I had been one step in the process away from being a full professor, and she thought being an adjunct—possibly—maybe was a good plan.
“I will take that under advisement.” I could smell the smoke from my pants burning. “If you would clue me in to what I did wrong the first time, I could work on not repeating that mistake.”
I’d asked her a few times when it first went down, and I was crushed like a bug. She’d never told me. That didn’t stop me from asking again. Between my stellar evaluations and wonderful student assessments, I had done a no-brainer for the position by any standards. I had to have missed something along the way.
“You, my dear son, forgot what it was like to be a team player.”
It was an answer, but not really. A team player. What did that even mean?
“Explain.”
She scowled at me in reply so I pushed myself up and walked to the door. Just as my hand reached the doorknob, she said, “Angeline Dover.”
“What?” I twirled around, trying to think of anything that happened between the former student and I that could possibly have raised any eyebrows.
“She received a three point in your class.”
I hadn’t remembered her grade, but it sounded about right.
“She probably did earn a three point, yes.” I stood there, still baffled.
“Her father’s donation to the school went from an entire wing of the education building to nothing, in one grade flat.”
Crap on a cracker. I’d been fired for not giving an inflated grade to a legacy student whose father had big pockets. I fucking hated the politics of academia.