My Ex's Uncle, My Trap novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: Unbought

Pierson didn't argue.

He sat on the milk crate with his hands between his knees and nodded once.

"Both of them," he said.

"Yours and theirs. No more fake dinners. No more rules. No more you."

"Okay."

"Stop saying okay."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing," I said. "I want you to go."

He stood up. He left the sandwiches on the lathe.

At the door, he stopped without turning around.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Not the kind with a but after it."

Then he went.

I ate both sandwiches standing up, furious.

The provost's office was on the top floor of the oldest building on campus, all carved wood and green lamps.

I got there at nine the next morning without an appointment.

His assistant said he was in a meeting.

I could hear the dean's voice through the door.

"Great," I said, and opened it.

The provost sat behind a desk the size of a pool table, in a bow tie.

Clifford Wardell sat across from him with a cup of coffee and the resolution agreement on his knee.

They both looked up.

"Miss Keating," the provost said, getting to his feet. "We were just..."

"I'm not signing it," I said.

The dean put his cup down.

"You haven't read it."

"I read enough. A footnote, and nobody talks. My name at the bottom of the page in eight-point type, and his on the plinth."

"It restores your scholarship," the provost said gently. "It saves your degree. I don't think you understand how much..."

"I understand exactly how much. Three million dollars."

The provost glanced at the dean. The dean didn't glance back.

"I didn't ask for it," I said. "I don't want it. I'm not taking a deal that says I helped with the soldering."

"Then the complaint stands," the dean said. "And the panel will rule after the Showcase. You know how it will rule."

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