* * *

  Miguel thought Caitlyn’s closet story was hilarious. “Oh no!” He guffawed. “I can’t imagine what Ruth thought.”

  “Har har.” Caitlyn rolled her eyes.

  He chuckled again and then sank his teeth into his greasy burrito. Mirth danced in his eyes as he chewed.

  “So what’s the deal with Ruth and Alice?” Caitlyn asked, eager to change the subject. “It seems like they hate each other.”

  “They do. I shouldn’t be surprised you already picked up on it. They don’t bother to hide their mutual disdain.”

  “How can that be? Didn’t Ruth pick her vice president?”

  “No way.” He slurped his soda. “Alice has been here for a decade, maybe more. The board hired Dr. Holloway two years ago, and now they’re stuck with each other.”

  “Is that why they don’t get along?” Caitlyn stirred her salad. “Alice wanted to be president, and they picked Ruth instead?”

  “Nah. Alice knows she’ll never be president. They don’t get along, because Alice is an old-school academic. She taught for twenty years, considers herself a scholar—you know, one of those. She’s aligned with the faculty, and that’s why the board will never choose her for the presidency. They want someone like Dr. Holloway, who represents reform.”

  The word reform raised alarms. Caitlyn associated it with pompous technocrats interfering in the classroom and blaming instructors for poor outcomes. “What kind of reform?”

  “All sorts of things. More online classes, beefing up student services to improve retention rates. For example, Holloway wants to do more teaching evaluations—and then mandate extra training for the faculty who don’t meet her standards.”

  “Yikes. No wonder faculty aren’t on board. The whole point of tenure is that you don’t have to deal with administration telling you how to teach.”

  “Exactly. You should hear what they say about her behind her back. Especially some of the old guard. They call her a bitch and worse.” Miguel made a face. “They can be nasty.”

  Caitlyn cringed at the word bitch. “Well, I don’t like her politics either, but they shouldn’t be sexist. She’s…” Caitlyn stopped herself from saying demanding, another gendered word. “She’s focused and doesn’t tolerate excuses. If she were a man, they’d probably respect her for being tough.”

  “Maybe.” Miguel looked doubtful. “Well, it’s true that they’re not used to having a woman in charge. Did you know that she’s the first female president we’ve ever had?”

  “Yeah, I read that on the website. I’m sure they hate that a woman is trying to change things. It doesn’t help that she’s attractive and young for a president.”

  “Attractive, huh?” Amusement glittered in his eyes.

  Caitlyn coughed. “I didn’t mean she’s attractive to me.” She sipped her water and mentally shooed away the image of Ruth returning from her walk with flushed cheeks. “I’m simply applying the standards of Western beauty conventions and forming an objective conclusion.”

  “Uh-huh. Of course.” He winked. “So are you bi, like your twin?”

  Caitlyn’s fork faltered. “What?”

  “Sorry if that’s too forward.”

  “It’s okay. You just surprised me. I’ve been away for so long that I’m not used to people knowing Chloe and comparing me to her.”

  “I bet that’s weird. Sorry again. You don’t have to answer.”

  “No, it’s fine.” Caitlyn hesitated, then decided that as a fellow queer academic, Miguel would likely understand her past anxiety. “The other thing… I don’t know if it’s like this at Pulaski, but labels were sort of fraught where I went to grad school. Many sociologists are deep into gender theory and queer theory, and it can lead to a lot of arguing and problematizing.”

  “Oh yeah.” He punctuated the words with a heavy nod. “We have all that discourse here too.”

  “Anyway, I used to spend a lot of time analyzing my sexual orientation and worrying about what to call it until my therapist finally convinced me that it wasn’t productive. To be honest, I think she was tired of hearing about it—but I learned to stop worrying so much about labels. So yeah, you could call me bi or queer. I seem to lean more toward women than Chloe.” Caitlyn suddenly remembered why she’d started rambling about her sexuality in the first place. “That doesn’t mean I’m into Ruth!”

  “Uh-huh.” His teasing smirk told her she wasn’t off the hook.

  Caitlyn wanted to ask if Ruth liked women. She found the prospect strangely intriguing, even though she obviously had no personal interest—but Miguel would no doubt seize on the question to further torment her. Instead, she took another bite of her salad and hoped for a change in topic.

  “So do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend?” Miguel asked.

  No such luck. “No, not for a couple of years. Toward the end of grad school, I thought there was no point in dating because I was going to move away to whatever school hired me.” Caitlyn slumped at yet another reminder that it hadn’t worked out how she’d planned.

  “Okay, so what’s your type?”

  Her cheeks warmed. “Um, intelligent.”

  “Hmm. Someone, perhaps, who shares your education level?” He tapped his chin in mock thoughtfulness.

  Caitlyn pointed her fork at him. “Someone who is not an evil administrator working to undermine everything I value in academia.”

  “Okay, okay. I guess Ruth Holloway is out of the running.”

  “Yes.” Caitlyn rolled her eyes, then turned serious. “Honestly, everyone in this town is out of the running. I’m going on the job market next year, and if things work out, I could land anywhere. Maybe even another country.” She winced as she heard her own words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive. For me, it’s all hypothetical, but you’re actually dealing with a geography problem keeping you apart from your husband.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Miguel said, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. He sipped his drink. “Speaking of relationships, Chloe seems to be happy with Nick. Did you see pictures?”

  “Yeah, she sent me one. I’m glad he’s not a catfish or anything. I just hope she comes back when the week is over. It’s too soon to move in with this guy.”

  “I think she will. And hey, if she doesn’t, you can quit for her.” His eyes lit with mischief. “Maybe on your way out, you can tell Dr. Holloway what you really think about her policy agenda.”

  Caitlyn nearly choked on her water. “Oh my God.” She imagined the look on Ruth’s face if “Chloe” walked into her office and announced she was quitting over ideological disagreements on how to run the college.

  Miguel chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be a shock?”

  “Well, I hope it doesn’t come to that. But the look on Ruth’s face would be something to see.”

  Chapter 5

  The wind rustled Caitlyn’s bangs, and her hair bounced lightly against her back as she walked up the path to the administrative building.

  When she reached the glass doors to the suite, a glimpse of her reflection confirmed she still looked like Chloe even though she wore her own clothing—a fitted button-down shirt and a black skirt that swished around her ankles instead of her thighs.

  After two days without issue, her confidence was growing. Maybe tomorrow I can ditch the false eyelashes. They were cumbersome and itchy—she had no idea how Chloe tolerated them every day.

  Smoothing her hair, she pushed through the door.

  “Hi.” A voice piped up from the side of the room.

  Caitlyn whirled to see two young women seated in the waiting area. One wore a fitted tank top that said Pulaski in block letters, along with leggings, flip flops, and sunglasses pushed up to her hairline. The other wore a loose maxi dress and ballet flats. They had to be students.

  “Hello.” Caitlyn dropped her purse on the desk. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “Yeah,” the woman in the dress said. “I’m Priyanka Sen. The student council president?”

  “And I’m Samantha, the vice president. We have a meeting with Dr. Holloway at nine.”

  “Okay, let me take a look.” Caitlyn sat at the desk and logged into Chloe’s computer to check Ruth’s calendar. Sure enough, there was a meeting with Priyanka Sen and Samantha Rivers scheduled for nine o’clock. “Yep, you’re on the schedule.”

  “Sorry we’re a little early.” Samantha shifted in her chair. “Dr. Holloway is always punctual, so we didn’t want to risk being late.”

  “That’s okay.” Caitlyn glanced at the closed door behind her desk. “So, you’ve met with her before?”

  “Of course. Lots of times.” Priyanka looked at her oddly. “It’s okay if you don’t remember. I’m sure you’ve got people coming in and out of the office all the time.”

  Oops. They knew Chloe. “Ah, right. I remember you now. Sorry, I’m a little slow first thing in the morning.”

  “No worries.” Priyanka smiled. “We’re on summer break, so this is the earliest I’ve been up in days.”

  “May I ask what you’re meeting about?” Caitlyn asked. “If you can’t tell me, it’s okay.”

  Priyanka shrugged. “Nothing major. Student council doesn’t have formal meetings in the summer, so we’re updating Dr. Holloway on what we’re hearing from students. Like, the library closes early in the summer, and a lot of students want it to stay open later. We also want more vegan options in the dining hall next year. Things like that.”

  “Cool.” Caitlyn found it hard to believe that Ruth would block off an entire hour to listen to complaints about the library and the dining hall. Perhaps the students would be booted out early.

  The door opened behind her, and Ruth stepped out of her office, wearing black dress pants and a sleeveless silver top.

  Caitlyn’s gaze swept over Ruth’s freckled shoulders, then down to the curve of her breasts beneath the shimmery fabric. Ruth looked entirely too sexy for the office. It wasn’t the amount of skin showing—the top had a high neckline—but the absence of a stodgy blazer. Without it, Ruth could have stepped into a swanky bar and fit right in.

  Or maybe I’m just overly fixated on her body. Caitlyn straightened and attempted an indifferent expression. “Good morning.”

  “Oh, you’re on time. Good morning.” Ruth dropped her gaze to Caitlyn’s skirt.

  Caitlyn fought the urge to fidget. The skirt was more conservative than Chloe’s usual outfits, but she’d hoped Ruth wouldn’t notice.

  Ruth blinked hard and shook her head as though shaking off sleep, then turned to the students. She broke into a wide smile. “Ladies. So glad you could make it.”

  Priyanka and Samantha stood. “Hi, Dr. Holloway,” Priyanka said. “I like your top.”

  “Thank you.” Ruth looked down. “It goes under a blazer, but it’s at least eighty degrees in my office. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No way,” Samantha said. “We sure didn’t dress up.”

  “Well, you’re students.” Ruth chuckled. “You’ve got the rest of your lives for frumpy office clothes.”

  Caitlyn gawked at Ruth’s friendly demeanor. Was she always like this with students?

  Ruth ushered them into her office. “Come on in. I’m so glad we found time to catch up.” She closed the door behind them, leaving Caitlyn alone.

  Animated voices sounded through the wall, punctuated with frequent bursts of laughter. Caitlyn couldn’t make out the words, but they sounded like friends catching up.

  A few minutes before ten, two older men walked into the suite. One was tall with wavy, white hair, while the other was bald and stocky.

  The tall one helped himself to a seat and rested his feet on the table.

  Um, okay. Make yourself at home.

  “Hi, Chloe,” said the other man, who remained standing.

  Caitlyn’s heart rate ticked up. Was she supposed to recognize them? “Hi. Good morning.”

  They both wore T-shirts and shorts. Among academics, personal style tended to degrade as one rose in the ranks, so they were probably tenured faculty.

  She checked Ruth’s calendar again, finding a ten o’clock meeting with Dan Toscano and Eric Krebitz. Aha. But she had no idea who was who.

  A quick web search brought her to the physics department’s home page. There was a photo of Dan—the tall one—with the caption Department Chair. So the other one had to be Eric.

  “This is such a waste of time,” Dan muttered.

  Eric’s lips curled into a sneer. “Probably. We know Ruth doesn’t care about science.”

  “That’s what we get for hiring a failed academic,” Dan said.

  “With a PhD in nonsense,” Eric said.

  Nonsense? What did that mean? And why did Eric call her a failed academic?

  Caitlyn returned to the web browser and looked up Ruth’s biography. The college’s website stated that Ruth Holloway held a PhD from the University of Pennsylvania—an Ivy League school. So what was the problem?

  Oh. Realization dawned as her gaze fell on the word that explained it. Ruth’s PhD was in education. Some academics looked down on the discipline because it relied on a mix of methods from other fields. Not to mention, education attracted a lot more women than, say, physics.

  Recalling Dan’s comment—failed academic—Caitlyn wondered if they viewed Ruth as a career administrator who hadn’t spent enough time as faculty. After all, Ruth was young for a president. Caitlyn skimmed the bio. Ruth had only taught at the University of New Mexico for seven years before becoming a dean of careers in Chicago.

  The door opened behind Caitlyn.

  She jumped and quickly closed the browser.

  The students emerged first, all smiles, with Ruth trailing behind them.

  “Keep in touch,” Ruth called to Priyanka and Samantha as they left. When her gaze landed on the two professors, her warm expression vanished, but she stepped forward with a smile fixed on her face. “Good morning.”

  Dan and Eric stood. “Hello, Dr. Holloway,” Dan said.

  Caitlyn noticed the difference in how he addressed her privately—Ruth—and to her face, where he used her title.

  “You’re here about the lab equipment?” Ruth asked.

  “That’s right,” Eric said.

  “Please go inside and have a seat. I’ll be there in a moment.” After they passed her, Ruth pulled a slim wallet out of her back pocket. “I’m going to need espresso for this. Could you please get me an iced latte from Kravings with an extra shot? And get yourself one of those whipped milkshake concoctions you like so much.”

  “Oh—thanks.” Caitlyn couldn’t hide her surprise. Not only did Ruth remember Chloe’s favorite drink, she was buying her one?

  Ruth held out two bills. “Tip the rest.”

  “Sure.” Caitlyn watched Ruth walk away, eyes dwelling on the contours of Ruth’s shoulders and back. Would she don the blazer now that two sexist men were there to see her?

  Focus. She grabbed a sticky note and jotted down Ruth’s drink order before it could slip her mind.

  Outside, the temperature had jumped ten degrees. She walked slowly along the path, using a map on her phone to find the campus coffee shop. By the time she arrived in the student union building that housed Kravings, beads of sweat trickled down her chest, pooling in her cleavage. An iced drink would be a relief.

  While she waited in the short line, she studied a bulletin board with multicolored fliers advertising various clubs and events. The sight made her wistful. This could be the last time I work at a college.

  The word sociology jumped out at her on a flier promoting an Interdisciplinary Colloquium on Inequality. It was sponsored by several departments, including the sociology department. First Wednesday of every month…as in, tonight? Even in the summer?

  Caitlyn moved closer and saw that the current date was included in the list—a lecture by a political scientist named Will Czerwinski on voter participation rates.

  I could go. The chance to learn something interesting lifted her mood. Perhaps attending an academic lecture would motivate her to get to work on her research. Or at the very least, maybe it would make her feel more like herself.

  Why not? As a staff member, she had every right to go—well, Chloe did. She could sit in the back and blend in with the students. No one would even notice.

  She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the flier. As long as she was doing Chloe’s work, she deserved all the perks.

  * * *

  Someone was in trouble. Caitlyn didn’t know who was on the line, but Ruth was letting them have it.

  “He can’t order a damn transcript, because… Yes, I know. You said that already. And if repeating it could solve the problem, I’d be in heaven.”

  Caitlyn caught herself smiling. There was something endearing about Ruth in boss mode. She was focused and relentless, and she didn’t bother to hide her exasperation when subordinates didn’t deliver.

  “So what, I’m supposed to tell this young man that because we don’t have our shit together… No, that’s not an option. You need to try something else.” There was a pause. “Well, then why don’t you call me back when you think of something.” The crack of plastic smacking plastic indicated that Ruth had hung up—with considerable force.

  “Chloe!” Ruth called.

  Caitlyn jumped up and scrambled to the open door. “Yes?”

  Ruth sat with both elbows on the table, chin propped up in her hands. She’d removed her blazer, and her hair was slightly frizzy, but the fire in her eyes left no doubt that she was in boss mode.

  “Could you please…” Ruth closed her eyes, composing herself, then opened them. “Could you please search the website at the US Department of Education and see if you can find a phone number for a sentient human being who is empowered to make an actual decision?”