Page 1 of The Butler

PROLOGUE: Deklyn

Ihad a key but still knocked on Professor Keil’s office door because I thought I heard voices coming from within. I was correct. A very cute, very young, male opened the door.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“I’m Dr. Keil’s TA,” I stated, looking behind the stranger who’d opened the door as I sought out my boyfriend. “Who might you be?”

“Hi, I’m Kevin,” he said. “I’m Thomas’s . . . I mean, Professor Keil’s new TA.”

It was the week before first quarter at Stanford University and I wanted to get the year’s curriculum set up with Professor Keil. I was entering my senior year in information technology and had been the Teacher’s Assistant for my professor for three years. I’d also been sleeping with him since the first quarter of my freshman year. To say I was young, smitten, and madly in love would have been an understatement.

Professor Keil stepped from behind the corner, holding several files and mumbling something to Kevin when he noticed me. “Mr. Dalton. Welcome back, young man,” he said, acting like we hadn’t had breakfast at home together less than ninety minutes earlier. He touched Kevin’s arm with a warmth that didn’t escape me. “I see you’ve met Kevin,” he added, handing the files to Kevin. “Kevin, please give Mr. Dalton and I a moment, will you?”

Kevin stepped out of the office and I followed Thomas to a smaller adjacent office where his desk was located. “You’re bringing on another TA?” I asked, sitting across from him.

“Not exactly, Dek,” he began.

“Then who the fuck is that kid?” I asked, losing my sense of decorum since there were no other students or faculty around.

“Kevin is your replacement,” he stated, with zero hesitance. “I always replace my seniors with new blood. Plus, you’ll be very busy applying to grad school this year.”

“Of course, I’ll be busy but not so much that I can’t continue to assist you,” I began, suddenly realizing that he’d said the wordreplacementand I’d just heard the word in my mind. “Replacement?” I asked. “Where am I going?”

Thomas opened the bottom drawer of his desk and handed me a file. Perhaps he meant he was simply adding additional help to take some of the load off of me? I opened the file and saw several professional letters that appeared to be letters of recommendation for me. I placed the file on his desk and looked up at him.

He gestured to the manila file folder I’d just placed on the desktop. “Those are for grad school and or future employment,” he said. “I made several copies for you. You’ve been a stellar TA, Dek, and I wish you the absolute best.”

“Wish me the best?” I asked. “What? Are you saying I’m not TA-ing for you this year?”

“No, you are not. I think you need to focus on your final year and prepare for grad school if you plan on attending.”

“Okay, but what about us?” I asked. “I’ll still stay mostly at your apartment, right?”

You’d figure after three years of being his TAandhis lover, he might stutter, maybe hem and haw, or even sound sad, but he was none of those things.

“We’re done as well, Dek. I’m sorry but I cannot continue our sexual relationship beyond this point.”

“Sexual . . . relationship . . .,” I stated slowly. “Oursexualrelationship?” I repeated a bit too shrill in my delivery.

“That is correct. Of course, I wish you the best and want nothing but success for you, Dek, but I do this when my TA’s enter their senior year. It’s not personal or anything.”

“It’s not personal?” I questioned. “Our three years together is . . .not personal?”I repeated, quieting my voice and leaning forward, about to lose my shit at being ambushed by a man I loved and who I thought loved me in a forever way. My professor and lover of three years sat across from me, having fucked me the night before, and was now informing me that my services were no longer needed? “Is this a fucking joke, Tom?”

He stood and held his hand out for me to shake. “Don’t be so crass, Dek. You had to have heard the rumors about my setup, right?” he asked. “My three year TA romances are one of the worst kept secrets at Stanford.”

“I’ve kept my mouth shut for three goddamned years and everyone knows but me?” I hissed. “Are you fucking kidding me? I love you, Thomas. Do you hear me? I amin lovewith you. You can’t blindside my ass like this and say I’ve been replaced by that child.” I jacked my thumb over my shoulder even though Kevin had stepped out minutes ago. “He’s what, twelve?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Kevin is eighteen,” he defended.

“Oh, pardon me. Eighteen. And I’m twenty one,” I stated. “Is being old enough to drink your cutoff age?” I grabbed the file of letters and threw them at him, tears flooding my vision. “You’re dumping me for Kevin? That child?”

“I prefer the termphasing out,” he stated, obviously not remembering there was a letter opener laying on his desk, mere inches from me and my rage.

I was floored, flummoxed, shocked, perplexed, and at a minimum, fifty other adjectives I hadn’t expected to be experiencing the week before my senior year.

“I’m sorry, Dek, but I have my processes and they work for me.”

I nodded my head repeatedly and stared at him as he crossed his arms defensively. My gut was experiencing a swift drop in an elevator from a hundred floors high, and just to make sure I couldn’t possibly feel any worse, add in my heart being stabbed a few dozen times.

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