Page 9 of Wildfire

But no.

The moment he started down the hallway, he knew where he was going. Theo Ward’s office door was open.

Either Ward had left it open accidentally, and he could slip in and use it for a while, or Ward was in, and he’d beg permission to sit there and grade his papers.

And he would beg, if that was necessary.

He’d sit with Dean Woods in her office if it got him away from Helen.

When Wilder poked his head in the door, Ward was staring at a stack of papers on his desk, looking unhappy.

“Term papers?” Wilder asked.

Ward’s head shot up. “Yes.” He glanced back down and winced. “Freshman magic theory students.”

Wilder cringed, and not for the first time, was exceedingly grateful that he didn’t have to teach that many nineteen-year-olds. Freshman magic theory was one of the only classes at Banneker that had a hundred or more students in a single class. Wilder had always found it overwhelming, being around that many people at once.

“Something I can help you with, Wilder?”

He bit his lip, staring at Ward for a moment, then glanced down toward his own office. He hated asking for favors.

But... Helen.

And even with his utterly perfect brown corduroy, brown belt, brown shoes, brown sweater vest, and brown tweed jacket, Ward hadn’t so much as blinked at Wilder’s ridiculous brown belt and gray pants, let alone called him “festive.”

“I don’t want to impose,” he said, not meeting Ward’s eye, “but would you mind if I sat over there and graded papers?”

Ward’s mouth fell open in apparent shock, and Wilder thought that was just uncharitable. He wasn’t acting out of character. It wasn’t as though he had actually apologized for his previous lack of appreciation for Ward as the ideal officemate.Thatwould have been out of character.

After a moment of silence, Ward stopped gaping like a damn fish and motioned to the chair. “Um, no, of course not. Is... is there something wrong with the old office?”

Wilder shuddered. “Chirpy Helen.”

Ward cocked his head, then after a moment, his eyes went round. “Helen Watkins? They put Helen Watkins in my old desk? What was Dean Woods thinking?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect it had something to do with me, and being thrown under a bus.” Wilder slunk across the office and planted himself in the cushy chair in the corner of Ward’s office. Oh, and it wassocomfortable. He could almost fall asleep right there.

He would whine about wanting an office like it himself, and he’d spent years working toward that exact goal, but the truth was that while sitting there with Theodore Ward wasn’t bad, it wasn’thim. Wilder might be arrogant, but he had limitations, and he knew them well.

Wilder was best in the field, teaching students how to hone talents they already had. He was excellent at correcting form and pushing for better results. He was not good at term papers and coddling and helping people decide what to do with their lives while sitting in cushy office chairs.

That was Ward’s specialty.

They sat in silence for a blissful hour, both working and quiet and perfect, before anyone said a word.

Oddly enough, it was Ward who spoke up. “So what happened with Helen? I mean, obviously putting the two of you in an office is a terrible idea all by itself, but specifically.”

Wilder curled up his nose and considered relating the morning’s “festive” comment, but no, that wasn’t what was still stuck in his craw. “She made fun of my cat’s name.”

Ward blinked for a second, his mouth falling open in shock, then he cocked his head and asked, “What’s your cat’s name?”

“Melisandre.”

Ward blinked, and for a moment, Wilder was afraid it was going to be the same again. But no, Ward was a true gentleman. “What’s funny about that?”

Wilder nodded, still a little irritated on his own, and little Melly’s, behalf. “Precisely.”

Ward shook his head and tutted. “Not that Dean Woods could have found her a better match, I guess, if she’s going to go around making fun of perfectly respectable pet names, but she might have tried.”

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