“We’ll see.” Piper kept her tone neutral. There was no judgment, but certainly no optimism either.

  Ruth started on the second half of her sandwich, deep in thought.

  Perhaps Piper was right to be cautious. Still, Ruth was committed to the project. If she and Chloe could accomplish something together, she owed it to both of them—and the college—to try.

  Chapter 11

  Caitlyn knocked on Maggie’s door. “Hi. It’s Chloe.”

  “It’s open,” Maggie called through the door.

  As Caitlyn stepped into the office, she tried to calm down. When she’d ambushed Maggie with a flimsy lie, she hadn’t counted on ever seeing her again. Now she worried she was in for an unpleasant conversation.

  Maggie typed on her desktop computer as though Caitlyn weren’t there. Her frown cut a crease across her forehead while her gaze bored into the screen.

  “Thanks for meeting with me,” Caitlyn said.

  Maggie glanced up from her computer. “You don’t need to thank me. Dr. Holloway told me to meet with you.”

  Shit. She hates me. It was bad enough that she’d corrected Maggie about percentages in front of Ruth. Her involvement in research threatened Maggie even more. I’d hate me too. However, Caitlyn was determined to turn things around. “I appreciate you making time so quickly. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

  “Well, yes.” Maggie lifted her chin. “I am the director of research.”

  “Absolutely.” Caitlyn sat in the extra chair. “I’m looking forward to learning from you.”

  “You don’t have to lie.” Maggie crossed her arms. “Dr. Holloway told me to give you a bunch of data so you can study it by yourself.”

  “Actually, I was hoping we could work together. From what I hear, you know the source systems better than anyone. Then maybe we can work together on some analysis.”

  Maggie studied her warily. “What is your analysis background exactly?”

  Uh-oh. Caitlyn twitched and broke eye contact, hoping Maggie wouldn’t notice her discomfort. “I took math in college, but I’ve been studying on my own ever since.” Caitlyn worried the lie would only make Maggie feel worse, so she added, “Well, it’s not like I’m totally self-taught. I took a bunch of courses online.” Before Maggie could ask for names, she added quickly, “What about you?”

  Maggie looked down at her keyboard. “I studied database systems in college, and I got a job here in IT. When the old director left, I was the only one who knew how to write queries, so I got promoted. But I don’t really do research. I just run reports.”

  “That’s important too,” Caitlyn said gently.

  “I guess. But sometimes, I feel like an impostor. Then you showed up and made Ruth a presentation that she likes better than anything I’ve ever done.” She pressed her lips together and looked away.

  The unexpected vulnerability pierced Caitlyn’s heart. “Hey.” She waited for Maggie to meet her eyes. “You’re not an impostor. You got this job because you have a valuable skill that helps the college. I meant what I said about us learning from each other. If you teach me about the data, I’ll show you how I made those charts—and how you can make similar ones.”

  Maggie looked uncertain, but then she nodded. “Okay.”

  “Today, you can teach me about the different systems. Then we can schedule time to work together on the analysis. Sound good?”

  “Yeah. It does.” Maggie offered a shy smile. “I guess I’ll start by showing you the class scheduling system.”

  “That sounds perfect.” Caitlyn was genuinely excited to teach her a few things. In grad school, she had enjoyed helping undergrads with research. Perhaps this would be similar.

  She hid a smile as she realized that in less than two weeks at Chloe’s job, she was already involved in research and teaching data analysis.

  You can take the girl out of academia, but you can’t take academia out of the girl.

  * * *

  “Uh-huh… I understand, but Dr. Holloway isn’t available.” Caitlyn doodled on a sticky note as she tried to get a persistent vendor off the phone.

  Ruth would never grant time to a random salesperson pitching revolutionary student engagement software. Yet he refused to accept anything less than an audience with the president.

  “Our clients include Mars Hill University and Tri-State Bible College,” he said brightly. “I’d love to tell Dr. Holloway about some of their results…”

  Caitlyn’s phone buzzed on the desk. She tapped the screen. It was an email from her advisor, responding to the draft of her new cover letter.

  Damn, that was fast. Usually, Andrew took weeks or even months to send feedback, which was why she’d sent him the cover letter well before fall. Maybe her job market flameout had inspired him to give her more attention.

  Meanwhile, the vendor blathered on about performance metrics, not even pausing to breathe.

  Caitlyn swung her legs back and forth, desperate for him to shut up so she could focus on the email. “I understand, but Dr. Holloway doesn’t have time for a meeting. I’m happy to take a message, or I could, um…” Her voice faded as she read Andrew’s email.

  Looks good. —AK

  That was his feedback? All of it? Caitlyn scrolled in search of an attachment but found none.

  “I’m actually going to be in Chicago next week,” the vendor said. “It would be no trouble at all to drive to Linvale.”

  “I’m sorry. There’s an emergency. Goodbye.” Caitlyn hung up and turned her full attention to her phone.

  Looks good? The words were a slap in the face. A good cover letter was essential, and Caitlyn had hacked hers apart and rewritten it. This was his only comment?

  Caitlyn fought tears as she turned back to her computer. She stared at the spreadsheet, but the numbers blurred.

  The desk phone rang.

  “Fuck off.” She pushed the button to silence the ringer with far more force than necessary.

  The sound of the doors being pushed open interrupted her brooding.

  Miguel walked into the suite. “Hey there. I just came to say hi.” His smile wilted as he approached the desk. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just…” He’s an academic. He’ll understand. “I sent my advisor a new cover letter, and he blew me off. See?” She tapped her phone and held it up.

  Miguel’s eyes widened. “That’s his entire response?”

  “Yup. That’s what I get after trying to please this guy for seven years.”

  “Wow.” Miguel pulled up a chair and sat next to her. “Do you think he’s blowing you off because you already graduated? Because that would be gross. All of my classmates’ advisors stuck with them until they got a job or quit.”

  His words were validating, but also depressing. “Sadly, this is nothing new.”

  “Does he hate you for some reason?”

  “Actually, no. Andrew is perfectly nice to me. He wants me to succeed, at least in theory. God knows he was happy to brag when I got published in a top journal. But he hardly ever made time for me.”

  The phone rang again. Caitlyn sat up straight and checked the caller ID. External number. She silenced the ringer. “They can leave a message.”

  “I’m really sorry about your advisor. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Were your other committee members any better?”

  “Actually, yeah. They tried to help me. Unfortunately, they aren’t big names. One of them—oops.” Caitlyn clamped her mouth shut as Ruth stepped into the suite.

  “Hello, Dr. Fumero.” Ruth walked up to the desk with her blazer slung over her arm, holding a stack of papers in front of her shimmery silver blouse. “Chloe, I just met with the chair of the assessment committee. He gave me these slides on learning outcomes in the sciences. I thought you might find it interesting.”

  Caitlyn accepted the stack of printed slides. “Oh, cool. Thanks.” She breathed in the scent of lavender, trying not to visibly react to its effect on her.

  Ruth nodded, strode into her office, but didn’t close the door.

  Miguel glanced at it and shrugged. “Well, I suppose I should leave you to it.”

  “Yeah, thanks for the talk.”

  Miguel winked as he got up to leave.

  Alone in the office, Caitlyn flipped through the deck from Ruth. It was littered with pixelated pie graphs, tables, and bullet points. Teasing out the methods would take some time, and she doubted she’d be impressed.

  Still, it was kind of Ruth to share them with her. Most bosses wouldn’t bother to support their assistant’s supposed extracurricular interest in research. Perhaps this was a sign that they were moving past their awkward encounter from the previous week.

  It was ironic. Academia had no place for her and perhaps never would—but Ruth believed in her despite thinking she didn’t have any credentials. No wonder she was reluctant to leave a place where someone saw value in her.

  * * *

  Caitlyn paced the copy room as the printer churned out her slides. She’d opted for the color printer, wanting to make the best possible impression.

  When the printer finished, Caitlyn gingerly retrieved the stack of warm paper and paged through the deck. She broke into a satisfied smile at the sight of her work in print. In a week, she and Maggie had sliced Pulaski’s retention data in every possible way.

  The next step was to set up a meeting with Ruth to go over the results. But did she have to wait? Caitlyn was dying to show Ruth what she could produce with more than a couple of hours. Maybe she could steal a few seconds to give Ruth a preview.

  Caitlyn returned to the suite, but Ruth’s door was closed. Damn it. She sat at her desk and pulled up Ruth’s calendar. Meetings and conference calls cluttered the rest of the week, and Ruth had placed holds between most of them—her strategy to ensure she’d have time to eat and to do actual work. Ruth was in the middle of one of those holds, most likely having lunch with the door closed.

  Ruth wouldn’t mind a quick interruption, right?

  Since they’d begun working on strategy, Ruth had been noticeably warmer. When she passed through the suite, she greeted Caitlyn with a nod that conveyed a shared purpose—a sense of being on the same team.

  Deciding their new alliance gave her implied privileges, Caitlyn approached the door and rested her ear against the wood.

  Nothing.

  She knocked, but there was no response. Had Ruth slipped out the back?

  Caitlyn inched the door open and peeked inside.

  The office was empty and dark with the blinds closed.

  Oh well. Caitlyn decided to leave the slides on the desk and hope Ruth saw them in time to comment before she rushed off to her next meeting. She started toward the desk.

  When the back door opened behind her, Caitlyn jumped and whirled around.

  Ruth walked into the office, wearing pants, a bra, and nothing else.

  Caitlyn gasped, frozen in place.

  At the same time, Ruth jumped and flung her arms over her chest in an X—but not before Caitlyn glimpsed full breasts encased in a sheer balconette bra. As Ruth covered herself, Caitlyn’s gaze drifted down to her soft belly and wider hips.

  “Chloe!” Ruth’s sharp voice broke the spell.

  “Sorry!” Caitlyn turned away, shielding her eyes as though she’d seen something horrific instead of a gorgeous body. “I thought—I didn’t think you were here. I’ll go now.” She ran out and yanked the door shut behind her.

  Caitlyn sank into her chair. The papers spilled to her feet, then slid in different directions on the carpeted floor.

  I can’t believe that just happened. She had seen almost every part of Ruth’s boobs: The rosy nipples had shown through the tulle, while the generous swell strained the lace trim and cast shadows on delicate cleavage. Even the brown spot above the left one—a large freckle or a tiny mole—was burned into her memory. Warmth curled in her belly as she dwelled on every curve.

  In some corner of her brain, Caitlyn knew she should be unhappy about what had transpired. After all, she spent her days trying to please Ruth, and now she’d gone and upset her. She would remember to be unhappy about it soon—as soon as she snapped out of the stupor inflicted by the sight of Ruth without her top.

  The door opened, and Ruth emerged, wearing a dark purple blouse Caitlyn hadn’t seen before. Pink stained her cheeks, and her hair flopped in four different directions, but she didn’t look angry—just shocked.

  “I’m sorry,” Caitlyn said again.

  Ruth tugged the hem of her blouse. “I spilled balsamic vinaigrette on my shirt. Then I went to change in my restroom, but—”

  “I knocked.” Caitlyn squirmed. “There was no response.”

  They both startled as the glass doors opened.

  Ted, the mail carrier, pushed his cart into the lobby. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  “Good afternoon,” Ruth echoed, sounding dazed.

  They waited in silence. The air was thick with tension and the shared knowledge that it would be inappropriate to discuss the incident in front of someone else.

  Nice timing, Ted. Caitlyn remembered her intrusion and chastised herself for the flagrant projection.

  Ruth returned her gaze to Caitlyn, then seemed to notice the papers on the floor. “What’s that?”

  “Oh.” She had forgotten. “That’s why I came in. I was going to bring it to you.”

  Ruth tapped one of the pages with the tip of her matte black shoe. “You made this?”

  “Y-yes.” Caitlyn forced herself to meet Ruth’s gaze, craning her neck to ensure everything below Ruth’s chin remained outside her field of vision. “Um, Maggie and I looked at…” Her mind was as empty as a ghost town, the wind blowing tumbleweeds past a vintage sign that said I Saw Ruth’s Boobs. “We looked at…” Her cheeks burned. At last, a word popped into her head. “Variables,” she whispered.

  This was a disaster. Violating Ruth’s privacy was bad enough. Now Caitlyn had overreacted in front of Ruth, becoming too rattled to form sentences.

  What was Ruth thinking? Probably something like, My queer assistant ogled my boobs and came unglued. She must have a massive crush on me.

  Caitlyn’s face grew even hotter. She couldn’t let Ruth think “Chloe” was mooning over her. If Ruth suspected such a thing, it would be the end of their working relationship.

  Ruth glanced at Ted, who leisurely sorted through envelopes. She combed her fingers through her hair, somehow mussing it even more. “Just come in.” She inclined her head toward the door.

  “Okay. As soon as I—um.” Caitlyn awkwardly crouched to retrieve the papers from under her desk.

  Ruth walked back into her office, leaving the door wide open.

  Caitlyn gathered the papers and scrambled to her feet. She had to prove the incident didn’t mean anything. Game face. She straightened her spine and practiced an indifferent expression. Boobs? What boobs? “Be right there!”

  * * *

  Ruth attempted to steady her breathing. She checked the notifications on her phone without reading any of them. All she could see was Chloe staring at her half-naked body.

  Ultimately, Chloe had done what most people would do; she’d averted her gaze, apologized, and rushed out. It was a typical reaction to an embarrassing mishap—except for how long it had taken her to react.

  For several charged seconds, Chloe hadn’t moved. She’d stared at Ruth’s breasts with parted lips and wide eyes, as though Ruth’s forty-two-year-old, out-of-shape body were a sight to behold.

  Chloe liked women. She had once mentioned an ex-girlfriend in passing, then kept on talking while the revelation implanted in Ruth’s brain and erased assumptions she didn’t remember making. Any lingering doubt had been obliterated by that potent stare.

  An unwelcome but undeniable burst of arousal coursed through her and pulsed between her thighs. She squeezed her legs together, willing it to disappear. Not now. Christ. And not ever with Chloe. Ruth wiped beads of sweat from her forehead. Her new shirt was thin, but the office was like a sauna.

  Chloe walked in, clutching the papers. “I’m so sorry again. I never meant— Ah, just a second.” She backtracked and closed the door behind her. “I didn’t mean to walk in on you like that.”

  “Of course.” Ruth tugged on the bottom of her shirt.

  Chloe fanned herself with the papers. “They still haven’t fixed your air conditioning, huh?” Her cheeks were a rosy pink.

  “Have a seat.” Ruth waved at the conference table.

  As Ruth settled at the far end, Chloe sat two chairs away and began to smooth and organize the papers.

  “Let me see.” Ruth held out her hand.

  Avoiding Ruth’s gaze, Chloe pushed the stack halfway across the table.

  Ruth was forced to scoot closer to retrieve it. She couldn’t help noticing the flushed skin at the base of Chloe’s neck. Focus, Ruth scolded herself. For the love of God. She studied the charts, which covered student demographics, retention patterns, and trends over time.

  Damn, she’s good. After the presentation for the board meeting, Ruth shouldn’t have been surprised. But this was her assistant who had a spotty, unimpressive resume. Chloe had only been hired due to a shallow applicant pool, and yet she was capable of this.

  “This”—she shook the pages, ensuring there would be no doubt that she meant the charts—“is excellent.”

  “Thank you.” Chloe blushed hard, a deep red climbing up her cheeks. “Maggie helped too. We’ve been working together.”

  “I see,” Ruth said dryly. “I hope Maggie is taking advantage of the opportunity to learn.” She wasn’t sure why Chloe always downplayed her skills, but she wouldn’t get away with it anymore.