Alexa

“Alexa, step into my office.”

Dr. Bellamy’s voice is icy, as always. He stares at me from across the hall, his cold eyes locked onto me. A shiver runs down my spine.

My friends warned me that Dr. Bellamy was a hard-ass when I applied for the PhD position here at the University of Florida, but I dismissed all of their concerns. All supervisors are self-absorbed bastards, right? Comes with the territory of being a successful academic. Nothing I couldn’t handle.

Or so I thought.

“Good luck,” Mary whispers, glancing up from her laptop.

“Thanks,” I answer.

Trepidation fills me as I cross the small hall towards my supervisor’s office. It’s only a couple of yards, but it feels miles away. The difference between my workspace and Dr. Bellamy’s office is night and day.

“Sit down.”

Every word my supervisor utters makes me wince. I’m a young professional, a talented, smart, independent woman — so I don’t understand how Dr. Bellamy can make me feel like I’m five years old again.

Perhaps it’s his thick, horn-rimmed glasses that remind me of my old principal… or it could be the fact that as my PhD supervisor, my entire career is in his hands.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Sir?” I ask, glancing up, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

Dr. Bellamy looks even larger than normal, sitting behind his stately desk. The shades are drawn, and it feels humid and hot in here.

I can barely breathe.

He opens a drawer, pulls out a report and throws it down on the table so hard I wince.

“This horse-shit,” he says. “You were going to publish this with my name on it? Without my permission?!”

Heat rises to my cheeks.

“You misunderstand,” I say. “I e-mailed you repeatedly and asked if you could take a look at it, but…”

“But what, Miss Oakley? But what?! This drivel could sink my career!”

My heart is racing like mad. I poured hours and hours into that paper. I know it’s good. I didn’t graduate with honors without knowing how to write a damn paper.

I’m certain he didn’t even read it. As my supervisor, he’s automatically the co-author of everything I publish… it’s not my fault he didn’t read it when I practically begged him to.

Not that it matters — there’s no reasoning with Dr. Bellamy when he’s worked himself into a rage.

He rises from his seat, towering over me, jabbing his finger into the air.

“In all my years I’ve never met anyone with as much gall as you, Miss Oakley! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick you out of my program right now?!”

My heart skips a beat, and for a moment all I see is stars.

Kick me out?

What?

He can’t do that.

I’ve been here for three years.

Three whole years.

I gave them all to that man, that bully. I’m mere months away from finishing my PhD thesis. And now he’s threatening to cut the cord? To kick me out?

I’ll never get another job in academia again if that happens. Dr. Bellamy is the leader in the field of biology, one of the most influential professors around.

My entire career is in his hands now.

“I-I don’t understand,” I stammer.

“I’ll make you understand,” he barks, spittle raining on me. “Your work is shit, Alexa. Shit!”

With one stroke of his arm he wipes my paper off his table. He sits back down and runs his fingers through his greasy hair.

“You’re lucky the editor at Nature contacted me, instead of printing this drivel. You would have been out on your ass. Now, I don’t need to do that. Necessarily. But you need to make it up to me, missy. You have a lot to make up for.

He presses a button on his intercom.

“Mary, bring me some water, would you?”

I stare down at my shoes, my heart thumping like a drum, as Mary comes in and brings Dr. Bellamy a glass. He treats Mary and me like we’re his maids, instead of the budding scientists that we are.

I don’t dare to even glance up at my best friend as she walks past. I’m sure she heard every word of his thundering speech.

I can’t believe what he’s asking of me.

Make it up to him?

How?

If he’s thinking about that… then no. I’d rather he kick me out. I’m not degrading myself for an old man.

He won’t be my first.

“Look up, Alexa.”

I take a deep breath. When I open my eyes I fully expect him to have his pants around his ankles. That’s how these things go, right? I’m the young, helpless intern, and he’s the boss with all of the power… I thought that if I worked hard enough, no man would ever be able to humiliate me again.

I was wrong. This is prom all over again.

I open my eyes… to see a big stack of papers in front of me. The logo of the armed forces catches my eye.

“This is your last chance,” he says, looking at me expectantly. “A special assignment. I expect you give this your full 100%.”

“What is this?” I ask as I reach for the stack.

Dr. Bellamy pulls it away, and hands me a form.

“It’s top secret, Miss Oakley. You have to sign this first.”

My eyes dart across the page, and several words jump out at me.

Non disclosure agreement.

Treason.

Life imprisonment.

“Wh-what?” I stammer. “You expect me to sign this?!”

My blood turns to ice as it all sinks in. If I sign this form, and I tell a single soul about what the army want me to do, they will charge me with treason and lock me up for life.

Dr. Bellamy grins.

“The military doesn’t fuck around, Alexa. If you want to keep your position here, you better sign this NDA, do whatever they want you to do, and keep your mouth shut.”

“I don’t even know what I’m signing up for!” I say, exasperated. “How can you expect me to do this without telling me what it actually is?!”

“That’s the beauty of it,” he laughs.

The bastard hands me a pen.

“Now sign on the dotted line… or get the fuck out of my office. Your choice.”

I stare down at the dotted line.

I’m trapped.

Screwed.

I sign.