Chapter 40 Forty
Chapter 40 Forty
Becca
I had been waiting for the right moment for weeks, watching and planning and rehearsing every word I was going to say, and when I finally sent the email to Professor Darren Kane asking for a meeting to discuss my "research," my hands were steady and my heart was calm because I knew exactly what I wanted and I was not going to let anything stand in my way.
Professor Kane, I have been working on a project about faculty-student dynamics and I would really value your input. Could we meet for coffee this week? I know you are busy, but I think you will find what I have to say interesting. Best, Becca Halloway.
It was vague enough to be innocent and specific enough to make him curious, I had learned over the years that curious people were the easiest to manipulate because they always wanted to know more, always wanted to understand, always walked right into whatever trap you had set for them because they could not stand not knowing.
He responded within an hour, which told me he was either flattered or suspicious or both, and we agreed to meet at a coffee shop off campus on Friday afternoon, neutral ground, public enough that he would feel safe and private enough that I could say what I needed to say without anyone overhearing.
The coffee shop was quiet when I arrived, just a few students scattered around with their laptops and headphones, I chose a table in the corner where I could see the door and watch him walk in and control the entire conversation from the moment he sat down. I ordered a black coffee and waited, my leg bouncing under the table because even though I was calm, even though I had planned everything perfectly, my body still remembered what it felt like to want something so badly that you could barely breathe.
He walked in at exactly 3pm, of course he did, he was the kind of man who was always on time, always in control, always making everyone else feel like they were lucky to be in his presence. Professor Darren Kane in a dark grey sweater with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and those grey eyes scanning the room until they landed on me.
"Ms. Halloway," he said, sliding into the seat across from me, his voice was polite but distant, professional in a way that told me he was already putting up walls, already preparing to keep me at arm's length. "Thank you for meeting me. You said you wanted to discuss your research?"
I smiled, slow and careful, and wrapped my hands around my coffee cup to keep them from shaking. "I did. But I also wanted to discuss something else. Something I think you will find more interesting than my research."
His eyes narrowed just slightly, just enough for me to notice, I felt a small thrill run through me because I had already gotten under his skin, already made him wonder, already shifted the power balance in my favor.
"I am listening," he said.
I leaned forward, lowering my voice even though no one was close enough to hear us, I looked him right in the eyes because I wanted him to see that I was not afraid of him, that I was not intimidated by his reputation or his position or the grey hair at his temples that made him look distinguished and dangerous all at once.
"I know about you and Zara Lennox," I said, the words came out smooth and calm and certain, like I was commenting on the weather instead of exposing a secret that could destroy his entire career. "I have seen you together. I have photos. I have enough evidence to take to the dean, to the university board, to whoever I need to take it to in order to make sure that everyone knows exactly what kind of professor you really are."
He did not react, did not blink, did not give me the satisfaction of seeing him panic, and I respected him for that even as I hated him for it.
"I do not know what you are talking about," he said, and his voice was steady and controlled and perfectly unconvincing.
"Yes, you do and I am not here to threaten you, Professor Kane. I am here to offer you a choice."
"A choice."
I nodded, taking a slow sip of my coffee to make him wait, to make him wonder, to remind him that I was the one in control of this conversation even if he did not want to admit it. "You can either end things with Zara, quietly and quickly, and I will delete every photo I have and forget I ever saw anything. Or you can keep seeing her, keep sneaking around, keep pretending that no one knows what you are doing, and I will take everything I have to the dean and watch your career burn to the ground while you stand there helpless and wonder how someone like me could destroy someone like you."
He was quiet for a long time, staring at me with those grey eyes that I had dreamed about for months, and I could see him thinking, calculating, trying to figure out how much I really knew and how far I was willing to go.
"Who else have you told?" he asked finally.
"No one. Yet."
"What do you want? Money? A better grade? A recommendation for graduate school? Name your price and I will see what I can do."
I laughed, because he still did not understand, he still thought this was about money or grades or something as simple and transactional as that. "I do not want your money, Professor Kane, and I do not need your recommendation. I want you to look at me the way you look at her. I want you to touch me the way you touch her. I want you to want me the way you want her, and if I cannot have that, then I do not want anyone to have it."
His expression changed then, something cold and hard settling into his features, I realized that I had finally said the one thing that could make him drop his guard and show me who he really was underneath the professional mask.
"You are threatening to ruin my career because you have a crush on me?" His voice was low and dangerous, and I felt a shiver run down my spine that was equal parts fear and excitement.
"I am threatening to ruin your career because you picked her over me," I said, and my voice was steady even though my hands were shaking under the table. "You have seen me in your classes, you have read my papers, you know I am smarter than her and more ambitious than her and more deserving of your attention than her, and you still chose a bratty little undergraduate who does not even appreciate what she has. So yes, I am threatening to ruin your career, because if I cannot have you, I want to watch you lose everything."
He stood up so fast that his chair scraped against the floor, and a few people looked over at us before turning back to their laptops and their coffee and their own problems that did not involve a professor and a graduate student having a staredown in the corner of a coffee shop.
"You do not want to do this, Becca," he said, his voice was quiet but hard, "Walk away now, while you still can, and I will pretend this conversation never happened."
"I am not walking away," I said, standing up too, because I was not going to let him tower over me, not going to let him intimidate me, not going to let him win. "I am giving you one week to end things with her. One week, Professor Kane. And if you have not ended it by then, I am going to the dean, and I am going to tell them everything, and we will see how well your reputation holds up when everyone finds out that you have been sleeping with one of your students."
I grabbed my coffee and my bag and walked out of the coffee shop without looking back, because I knew that if I looked back I would see him standing there watching me, and I did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that my heart was pounding and my hands were shaking and my whole body was trembling with the force of what I had just done.
I had made my move.
Now it was his turn to decide.