Page 90 of Olivia's Only Pretending
“Me, too,” another student admitted.
“Wait, wait.” Ashley held up a hand. “Who is leaving you notes in Latin?”
I chewed on my lip, thinking through my words. I could roll past it and say a friend of mine posted an inside joke. Or …
“Someone I’ve been afraid to admit I’ve fallen in love with,” I confessed, and then the story of Victor and me came tumbling out as if something that was wound tight in me had become completely undone.
The students listened, enraptured, peppering in their “oohs” and “ahhs” and shaking their heads in judgment when I told them about how I asked for a pause.
“A third actpause?”Ashley said, covering her face with her palm. “Dr. Rhodes, the agony.”
“And then, I found this.” I handed over my note, and they passed it around. “I just sent him a message about it.”
“Has he replied to your text?” Chloe asked, holding the note in her hands.
I stole a peek at my phone. “Not yet.”
“It’s Victor. You know he will,” Ashley assured me, as if she really knew him after my long story.
The sky was gloomy and gray overhead. I felt a light sprinkle of rain falling on us. “I know he’ll reply. I’m mostly worried about what comes next. What do I say now? How do I … un-pause?”
“You’re a romcom reader.” Chloe tapped her book. “You know what you’re supposed to do next. It’s time to get your man.”
A smile broke across my face.“It’s time to get my man, huh? Well, I’ll have to get him after the conference in a couple hours.” I glanced at my watch, knowing it was time to get back to my office and use the time I had left to finish preparing for the conference.
A knot formed in my stomach knowing Victor wouldn’t be in the audience, and that was my fault.
I checked my phone again as I walked into my office—still no reply.
Twenty-Seven
Our panel had to arrive early at the auditorium to review our seating arrangements and the flow of the presentations and discussions. I’d changed into a nicer but still professional black dress and blazer.
I was on stage across from Ryan and the other professors, going over what to expect with the moderator, Alexis, while the stagehands bustled around us, adjusting lights and microphones.
Ryan’s eyes kept roaming over to my seat. I crossed my arms over my chest, doing my best to ignore him.
As he asked Alexis a few questions, I bit the inside of my cheek. The conversation from this morning still rang in my ears.It was brought to my attention that you are dating a student, Dr. Rhodes.
Our eyes met for a moment, and he swallowed hard, tugging on his collar.
Later, backstage, just before we were scheduled to go on, someone handed us water bottles. I made small talk with a colleague, but I could feel Ryan’s eyes on me again, so I glanced his way.Is he sweating?
Ryan rarely sweated. He didn’t fidget or tug at his collar, especially not before he was about to step on a stage under a spotlight. That was where he thrived. Always composed, always in control. He took everything in stride, even feelings he might hurt along the way. He was frustratingly proud that way.
The only times I’d seen him sweat were when he felt bad about something. Like how he kept wiping his sweaty brow the day he told me he was taking the job in Ohio.
My nostrils flared. Ryan was sweating and staring at me because he started the rumor that Victor was a student and wasn’t sure if I’d been approached yet.Why would he do that?
I turned toward him, not even trying to hide the anger in my eyes, but then the stagehands began ushering us toward the stage. The announcer was welcoming the crowd as we huddled on the side of the stage, waiting for our signal to walk out. A boom of laughter from the audience echoed through the room.
“Now, let’s welcome our Classics and Antiquity panel to the stage, starting with Dr. Olivia Rhodes,” the moderator said into the microphone.
My heart raced as I took the first steps out onto the brightly lit stage. I smiled toward the audience, giving a slight wave.
In a sea of people sitting and clapping, there stood Victor, in the front row with the proudest grin. Even from the stage, I could see the crinkle around his eyes.
The way he looked at me, you’d think he was watching me win an award, not listening to a lengthy panel discussing the Middle Ages. All the anger and frustration about Ryan left me like vapor, as if there wasn’t room for me to feel anything but the bubbly joy from seeing Victor in the audience.
