A break from work? Caitlyn cringed at the thought of Chloe becoming financially dependent on Nick. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I know you’re getting along, but you’ve only spent a few days together.”

  “I’m sure. I know it’s fast, but I feel really good about him. So if you don’t mind, I’d like you to do one last thing for me. I’d appreciate it.”

  Oh no. “What is it?”

  “It’s nothing bad. I just need you to tell Ruth that I’m resigning,” Chloe said breezily. “You can wait till the end of the day if you want to get paid for it. Oh, and bring home my makeup. I left some good shit in my desk.”

  Caitlyn tensed as she imagined telling Ruth she was quitting with zero notice. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Maybe you could send an email over the weekend.”

  “Wait! Are you afraid of her?”

  “Of course not. I just don’t want her to pressure me to stay.”

  “Oh, I doubt that will happen. Ruth doesn’t think very highly of me. She’ll probably be delighted.”

  “Yeah.” Maybe that had been Ruth’s opinion last week, but Caitlyn had already started to change it. Another thought occurred to her. “Have you told Mom that you’re staying with Nick?”

  “Not yet. I’ll tell her soon. We’re going to FaceTime tomorrow so Mom can meet Nick. I want to get through that first. Then I’ll tell her.”

  God, Mom is going to flip. “Well, it’s your decision.”

  “Yep, it is.” Chloe’s tone was light but firm. “Anyway, I’d better go. But I can’t thank you enough for holding my job for me when I thought I’d be back. I owe you one. And I’ll send you the money as soon as I get paid, okay? Love you, sis.”

  Caitlyn swallowed. “Love you too.”

  The line went dead.

  Caitlyn sat with her phone in her lap, staring at the fountain. One of the coils had a small dent that sent a steady stream of droplets off course—an imperfection or perhaps the artist had done it on purpose. As she watched the water, she tried to tease out why she felt so down.

  For one thing, she would miss Chloe. They weren’t as close as they had been as kids, but the summer could have been an opportunity to spend more time together—one that might not come again, depending on where Caitlyn ended up next year.

  It was more than that, though. She was also sad for Ruth, who would lose her assistant without notice. Despite Caitlyn’s mixed feelings about Ruth’s leadership, she didn’t want to blindside her. Plus it had only been a few hours since the incident with Steve. Afterward, she and Ruth had shared a moment of genuine connection. Caitlyn had even offered to be an ally in future meetings—and now she’d be quitting the very next day. She didn’t want Ruth to think her support had been fake, and the idea that Ruth might think otherwise made her feel awful.

  On top of everything, Caitlyn felt sad for herself. Her four days at Pulaski had provided a rare window into leadership at a liberal-arts college, and she was sorry to see it end.

  The only upside was that she’d finally have time to deal with her actual career. Aside from acquiring library books, she hadn’t made much progress. Meanwhile, the job market wasn’t going to get any easier. She needed to stop worrying about Chloe’s job and get her head in the game.

  Chapter 8

  It was Caitlyn’s last day of work in a position that wasn’t even hers, but she still didn’t want to get caught slacking—her authority-pleasing tendencies were too deeply ingrained. So she waited until Ruth stepped out before she phoned Gary.

  “Ah, the lovely Chloe,” Gary said in sing-song. “How may I be of service?”

  Yuck. Caitlyn wouldn’t miss that voice. “Hey, could you cover the phone for a while?”

  “Sneaking out already? Is this a coffee break or a social call?”

  “Gotta go.” She hung up, then silently answered his question. It’s a goodbye.

  Miguel’s office door was ajar with the light on. Caitlyn nudged it open and found him hunched over his laptop, forehead creased in concentration. She knocked on the doorframe. “Hey.”

  He looked up and broke into a grin. “Hi, Chloe!” The sparkle in his eyes confirmed he knew her actual identity.

  Rolling her eyes, Caitlyn stepped inside and shut the door. “Yes, it’s me, Chloe, the worst executive assistant in the history of Pulaski.”

  “Oh, come on. Chloe isn’t the worst ever.” Miguel’s tone was playful, but an earnest note reminded her that Chloe was his friend.

  “Hey, I love my sister. I’m not trying to disparage her. But come on—she left town and sent her twin in her place.”

  “Okay, fair enough.” Miguel laughed. “That’s pretty bad. But you’re a good double, so it’s not like she abandoned the job.”

  “Yes, well, I’m retiring. That’s why I stopped by. You probably know already, but Chloe asked me to quit at the end of the day.”

  He looked stricken. “She did?”

  Oops. Chloe hadn’t told him. “Yeah, sorry. She called me yesterday and told me she’s staying in Boulder to spend more time with Nick.”

  “Shit. How long?”

  “Indefinitely. I’m not happy about it, but I can’t make her come back. If you want to try to change her mind, you have my blessing.” Caitlyn kept her voice casual, but part of her hoped Miguel would try.

  “Damn. I’m going to miss her. I’ll miss both of you.”

  “I’ll miss you too. You’ve been a good friend—to both of us.”

  Miguel opened his desk drawer. “Since it’s your last day, I’d like to give you something.” He held out a slim book with a goofy grin.

  “What’s this?” Caitlyn stepped forward.

  “My poetry.” A slight blush appeared on his cheeks. “You don’t have to read it, you know, if you don’t want to.”

  “Are you kidding? Of course I’ll read it.” Caitlyn accepted the book. The cover said, Sun Song over an abstract swirl of yellow and gray. She flipped past the title page and saw the dedication: For Preston. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome. So, are you going to tell Dr. Holloway in person?” His grimace suggested he could guess how Ruth would react to the news.

  “Yeah. I’m not looking forward to it, but it’s the right thing to do. I’ll tell her at the end of the day.” Caitlyn’s gut twisted. It’s going to be awful.

  “Oof.” Miguel winced. “The board meeting is today, so she’s going to be in a terrible mood.”

  “Why? Does she hate board meetings?”

  “I’d imagine. People use them as a forum for their various complaints, and Ruth has to sit there and listen, which can’t be fun. But today…it’s going to be a bad one.”

  Caitlyn’s pulse quickened at the thought of Ruth dealing with a bunch of hostile comments. “Why will it be bad?”

  “I shouldn’t say anything.” He covered his mouth as though the gossip were fighting to escape.

  “C’mon, what? I won’t blab. Who could I even tell?”

  “Okay, okay.” Miguel took a deep breath. “You didn’t hear this from me, but the faculty council president is planning to obliterate her in his remarks today.”

  Faculty council… “Wait, do you mean Steve Stubbons?” The name tasted vile in her mouth.

  “Actually, yeah.” He cocked his head. “You’ve met him?”

  “Unfortunately. He threw a tantrum in Ruth’s office yesterday.” Just thinking about it made Caitlyn queasy. “But what do you mean, he’s going to obliterate her? How do you know this?”

  “There was a meeting last night. I’m not on the council, but the meetings are open to everyone, so I went—just for something to do, really. Anyway, Steve came in ranting about how Dr. Holloway denied his overload request. He said it was time to embarrass her in public so she stops taking us for granted.”

  “Shit. Do you know what he’s planning to say?”

  “Yup. He made charts about our enrollment, showing that it’s declined on her watch. He’s blaming her for canceling courses, saying that she’s punishing faculty she doesn’t like and driving away students in the process.”

  “Ruth said something about canceled courses too.”

  “Yeah, she implemented a new rule. A class needs a minimum of five students, otherwise it gets canceled—unless there are special circumstances, like it’s an upper-level course required for a major.”

  Caitlyn tried to remember the smallest class she’d had as an undergrad. “Five doesn’t seem like a lot.”

  “No, but sometimes Steve has trouble getting enough students because—well, because they think he’s an ass. Anyway, he’s going to give a speech about how it’s all Ruth’s fault that enrollment is down. Then he’s going to say that faculty will consider a no-confidence vote in the fall. Of course, the main person considering it is Steve.” Miguel rolled his eyes. “But saying those words will get press attention.”

  Caitlyn felt nauseous. “Does she know about this?”

  “No. Someone from faculty always speaks at these meetings, but she won’t know what he’s going to say.”

  Unless someone tells her. “When is the board meeting?”

  “It’s at one o’clock. Why? Do you want to go?”

  “No. Maybe.” Caitlyn’s brain buzzed with ideas and arguments that Ruth could use—if she knew what was coming. “What if I warned Ruth? I wouldn’t mention you. I’d just give her a heads-up and help her prepare a response.”

  Miguel’s eyebrows flew up. “Seriously? You want to help her? I thought you were on team faculty.”

  “In some ways, yes. But I hate the way Steve talks to Ruth. It’s one thing to disagree on policy, but ambushing her is slimy, and it’s obviously personal. I mean, do you really believe Ruth is personally responsible for enrollment trends?”

  “Of course not—we had the same problems before she arrived, and she’s been trying her best.”

  “Then please, let me tell her.” Caitlyn’s heart pounded. She was desperate for him to say yes, especially since she wasn’t sure she could keep it from Ruth either way.

  “Oh gosh. I don’t know. There were about twenty people there last night, so they wouldn’t be able to prove it was me. But if anyone found out I leaked…” He mimed a knife slicing his throat. “Steve would make my life hell.”

  “I swear, I won’t tell Ruth who told me. I just want her to be ready to talk about enrollment and canceled courses. That’s all.” She gripped the book tightly. “I already feel bad about quitting—not to mention that I’ve been fooling her all week. Please let me help her. It’s the least I can do for her on my last day.”

  Miguel rubbed his forehead. “Okay, okay. You can warn her.”

  “Really? Are you sure?” Caitlyn felt obligated to ask since she’d pressured him into it, but she prayed he wouldn’t take it back.

  “You can’t tell anyone how you know.” Miguel locked his gaze on her. “Promise me.”

  “I won’t tell a soul. I swear.” Caitlyn’s heart raced with the energy of a new purpose. “I should go—I need to find Ruth. If I don’t see you before the end of the day, thanks for everything.”

  “Good luck.” Apprehension hovered in his gaze.

  “Bye!” Caitlyn rushed out of Miguel’s office and pounded down the steps to the exit. A warm breeze whipped through her hair as she power-walked back to the administrative building.

  She arrived at the suite out of breath and marched straight into Ruth’s office.

  It was empty.

  Shit. Caitlyn returned to her desk and plopped into her chair with so much force that it rolled backward. She scooted forward and quickly typed in Chloe’s password.

  Ruth had added an off-campus meeting to her calendar, scheduled to last until noon. Even if she stopped back at the office before the board meeting, there wouldn’t be enough time for Ruth to prepare a meaningful response to Steve’s presentation.

  Unless I help her.

  It wasn’t Caitlyn’s place to get involved. As Ruth’s assistant, she should stick to answering the phone. On top of that, she wasn’t really Ruth’s assistant. But what was the harm in exploring some data?

  Caitlyn jumped out of her chair. She roamed up and down the halls, surreptitiously scanning name plates until she found it: Maggie Simone.

  An xkcd comic adorned the door, which was propped open with a rubber stopper. Inside, Maggie sat with her elbow on the desk and her chin resting on her fist.

  “Hi, Maggie? Are you busy?”

  Maggie’s head jerked up. “Uh, kind of. Why?”

  “Sorry, but Ruth—Dr. Holloway—needs some data right away. She had to leave campus for a meeting, so she asked me to convey her request.”

  Maggie’s eyes narrowed. “Dr. Holloway asked you?”

  “Well, yes. I work for her.” Another lie.

  Sighing, Maggie gestured to the extra chair behind her desk. “Okay. You can have a seat.”

  “Thanks!” Caitlyn sat and gave Maggie a wide smile. “So, the first thing she needs is total enrollment by term for the past five years.”

  “She already has that. I give that to her every term.”

  But I don’t have it. “Hmm. She asked for that data specifically. Maybe she misplaced what you sent earlier.”

  “Are you sure? It looks like you didn’t take notes.” Maggie shot a pointed glance at Caitlyn’s empty hands.

  “Oh. Well, I happen to have a photographic memory.” She shrugged. “It’s a blessing and a curse.” It seemed like something someone with a photographic memory might say.

  “Fine.” Maggie typed something. “That’s it?”

  “I’m afraid not. She also needs the list of courses we ran last term, the capacity of each course, and the number of students enrolled.”

  “Uh, okay.” Maggie grudgingly scribbled on a sticky note.

  “So can you run those queries and send me the data? I’m sure Ruth can figure out what she needs.”

  “Ruth? I doubt it. There are different codes, like…” Maggie made a frustrated gesture. “It’s complicated, and Dr. Holloway isn’t a data person.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know about all that—but Ruth told me to get the data, and I think we’d better do what she said. You have my email, right?”

  Maggie glowered. “Obviously.”

  “Thanks so much.” Caitlyn rose to her feet. “I’ll let Ruth know you’re working on it.”

  Yet another lie—but it was for a good cause.

  * * *

  Ruth took a massive bite of her sandwich, then pushed open the door with bread hanging from her face. Mouth too full to speak, she waved at Chloe as she walked toward her office.

  Chloe got up and scampered after her, toting her laptop.

  Ruth swallowed and wiped her mouth. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Can it wait?” Ruth yanked off her comfortable flats. “I’ve got a board meeting in half an hour, and I wanted to head over early.”

  “That’s what I need to talk to you about. Steve Stubbons is planning to sandbag you with a big presentation about enrollment.”

  “Wait. What?” Ruth froze, her foot hovering over a pointy high heel. She looked up. “Who told you this?”

  Chloe’s face was drawn with worry. “Steve talked about it at the faculty council meeting last night. I can’t say who told me, but I heard it directly from someone who was there.”

  Now Chloe had sources on faculty council? Feeling off-balance in more ways than one, Ruth sank into a chair at the conference table. “Sit. Tell me what you heard.”

  Chloe sat next to Ruth and placed her laptop on the table. “Steve made a whole presentation about the enrollment decline. He’s going to blame it on you—saying it’s all because of canceled courses and denied overload requests. Then he’s going to say faculty are considering a no-confidence vote.”

  “I see.” Ruth balled her hands into fists. God, what an asshole. He’d probably get fawning press coverage too, as a brave faculty member fighting for academics, when he was really a bully who only cared about himself. But Chloe sees the truth. “Thank you for telling me. Unfortunately, he can say whatever he likes. But at least it won’t be a surprise.”

  “Do you have any thoughts on how you might respond?” Chloe asked.

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll hit all my usual notes—the recruitment initiatives, retention, everything we’re doing to turn it around.” Ruth had the talking points memorized.

  “That sounds good. But I thought you might want some data.” Chloe’s voice wobbled. “So, um, Maggie and I worked on some slides.”

  “Slides?” Ruth repeated the word without understanding.

  Chloe opened her laptop and angled it toward Ruth. “We thought maybe you could use this.”

  On the screen, a line graph showed the enrollment declines at Pulaski plotted against the overall trend at other Illinois colleges and universities. Pulaski tracked closely with the statewide trend, except in the previous year when it had actually fared a bit better. “Maggie did this?” Ruth stared at Chloe. “I don’t understand.”

  “Yeah, Maggie ran a few queries, and I think she got the rest of the data from the Illinois Board of Higher Education.” She fidgeted as she watched Ruth anxiously.

  “But the formatting—it looks professional.” Usually, Maggie made amateurish charts in Microsoft Office with all of the default colors, fonts, and grid lines. The chart before Ruth was clean with neat labels, like something from a journal or a book. Ruth doubted Maggie was capable, but who could have done it?

  Chloe averted her gaze. “Well, I helped with that part—making it look pretty.”

  “But how? This doesn’t look like PowerPoint.”

  “It’s just some free software. Don’t worry—I didn’t download anything shady. Here, we also looked at course capacity versus enrollment.” Chloe hastily flipped to another chart, as though hoping to distract Ruth from her questions.