Page 133 of Wicked Ends
I sat opposite him, twisting my hands into a knot to hide my shaking fingers.
“I think I can guess the reason for this visit,” Dean Eastwood said, sitting back and regarding me with a frown.
I wet my lips and prepared to speak, when someone quickly knocked before opening the door.
“What is it, Mr. Bailey? I am in a meeting, so it’ll have to wait,” Eastwood said, nearly sending me to my feet.
I twisted around. Marcus sauntered in. I hadn’t seen him in weeks. He was a sight for sore eyes. I couldn’t look away.
“Forgive me, Dean Eastwood, but I believe that this meeting needs to include me, since the topic is highly relevant to me personally.” He sank into a chair and sent me a smirk.
“What are you doing?” I hissed at him under my breath.
Eastwood sighed and leaned back again. “I don’t see how, but regardless, as long as Professor Moore doesn’t object, let’s continue. I’ve been talking to MacKenna in Administration.”
I froze. I’d assumed Eastwood was expecting me to talk about the photograph and my inappropriate relationship with a student. But maybe it was even worse than that.
“Yes?”
Eastwood steepled his fingers. “I understand that there was an element of subterfuge in your records.”
I opened my mouth to speak and found no words there.
Marcus took over. “I believe, and jump in if I’m wrong, Dean Eastwood, but regardless of Arianna’s last name, her qualifications are unchanged. Only the name was changed in order to protect her identity from a violent stalker. I believe MacKenna in Admin explained as much.”
I turned to Marcus, confused by his confident tone. Had he been planning this with MacKenna?
Eastwood nodded slowly. “I can understand the issue, and I want to let you know that MacKenna shared your last name and professional transcripts with me, in order to reassure me that you hadn’t pulled the wool over our eyes here at HHU.”
“I didn’t. I have the qualifications that you think I do,” I said numbly.
“Actually, it seems you have a few more.” Eastwood tapped something on his computer and turned the screen to show me.
It was an old article from a few years ago.
“Talents like Spencer are redefining what it means to make music.”
I knew the headline well. I’d stared at it enough. I’d even bought a frame for it and hidden it in my room. Just one of the things I’d left behind when we’d fled in the night. Marcus leaned in, reading the article with interest.
Heat filled my cheeks.
“We didn’t know we had a rising star composer on our faculty,” Eastwood said.
“Now that you do, I assume a pay rise and tenured position is in the cards?” Marcus drawled.
Eastwood shot him a look. “May I ask why you are here?”
Everything was getting away from me. I hadn’t prepared for this. It was getting off track.
“I feel certain we’re getting there,” Marcus sighed and nodded his chin at the dean. “Isn’t there another reason for this meeting?”
Eastwood flushed and stared at me, then his eyes skittered away. “Yes, well, it has come to my attention that there were rumors of certain photographs circulating.”
“It’s my fault,” I blurted out immediately.
Marcus sighed.
Eastwood stared at me. “So, you’re admitting to these photographs. It’s you?”
