One Night

Chapter 42

Audrey & Edwin

Audrey’s POV

Gavin and I were met with the scent of old wood and fabric when we stepped into t museum. The space, brightly lit with glittering chandeliers overhead, was practically swarming with people.

And for good reason, too; the exhibition on vintage fashion was filled with famous pieces, from iconic Chanel sets to the first Louboutin heel prototypes.

As we stepped into the crowded space, our programs in hand, Gavin leaned close to me -the heady scent of his cologne momentarily overwhelming my senses. “This is some turnout, isn’t it?” he asked.

I nodded hastily, my cheeks instantly reddening at our close proximity. “Yes. It is.”

But truthfully, my mind was hardly on the fashion-I couldn’t stop feeling self- conscious beside Gavin. He looked particularly handsome tonight, dressed in a sharp that I had knitted myself, my hair pulled back into a half-bun and tied with a matching

tight red sweater dress red ribbon.

sweater and blazer combination with tailored slacks. I wore.

This was a date. A real date. Any girl would have been elated to step out with a guy like Gavin, but I could only feel guilty.

Because somehow, I knew that tonight would end with me rejecting him.

Still, I had promised Gavin one date. I had promised to give us a chance, no matter how small-not just to him, but also to myself. And I planned on going through with that promise.

“Let’s check out the coffee stand first,” Gavin said, nodding his head toward the concessions by the front door. “I’ll get you whatever you want so we can sip and walk.”

I nodded stiffly, trying not to dwell too much on the sensation of his hand on my lower back as we made our way over to the concession stand. Gavin bought us each a latte, the contents inside the cardboard cup warm against my trembling fingers.

After that, the two of us made our way inside the exhibit. We waded through the sea of

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Chapter 42

people, coffee cups in hand, our faces flushed with nerves. When I saw the first piece on the mannequin, though, I instantly felt my worries slip away.

“That’s a real Gucci piece!” I breathed as I sidled up to the mannequin adorned with a wool riding suit. “That has to be from the nineteen-twenties, maybe thirties.”

Gavin hummed to himself and leaned in closer to take a look at the outfit. “How could you tell it was Gucci so fast?” he asked with a slight chuckle.

“I don’t know.” I replied. “I just… know it when I see it.”

“Can you do that with other pieces?”

I nodded quickly and pointed over at another mannequin. “That one is Chanel-that’s easy, though, because of the signature houndstooth pattern. And over there is a Prada piece from the nineties…”

Over the next hour, Gavin and I made our way around the exhibit. I’d point out tiny details in each piece, positively gushing over the fabric or the cuts or the patterns. All the while, Gavin watched with a pleasant smile on his face. Every so often, I would feel his fingers brush mine-but, panicking, I would always pull my hand away to touch my hair, smooth down my dress, or point at something else.

At one point, however, as I was prattling off the details about a rare Gunne Sax dress from the seventies, I turned to see him watching me with a curious expression in hist eyes. It was only then that I realized I had been chattering nonstop for the better part of

ten minutes.

Instantly, my face turned as red as a tomato. “I’m so sorry,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I get a little carried away sometimes.”

Gavin simply smirked. “It’s alright. I think it’s cute.”

I opened my mouth to respond, my cheeks reddening even more. But it was then that I saw it or rather, him.

“Edwin?” I breathed, my eyes widening.

Gavin furrowed his brow and turned to see the professor’s broad shoulders in the crowd. For a moment, Edwin’s gray eyes met mine before he quickly turned and began to push toward the door. But it was too late; I had seen him already.

And the fury that began to bubble just beneath the surface of my skin got the better of

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Chapter 42

me.

“Hey!” I barked, shoving through the throng of people toward Edwin, who had gotten stuck behind a group of slow walkers. I tapped him roughly on the shoulder and placed one hand on my hip. “What are you doing here?”

Edwin turned slowly, his gray eyes sweeping over both me and Gavin. “I’m enjoying the exhibit,” he said c**ly. “Same as you two.

I pursed my lips tightly. “Is that so? Or are you just following me now?”

As soon as I uttered those words, 1 regretted it. There was a long silence, both Edwin and Gavin blinking at me in shock over my abrupt question. I swallowed hard, trying to come up with a smooth recovery, but it was too late.

Edwin’s upper lip curled back ever so slightly. “I really am here to see the exhibit. despite what you may think, Miss Thatcher,” he hissed. “Have I interrupted a date or something?”

My eyes widened, and I began to flounder. “I… It’s not…”

“You haven’t interrupted us, Professor Brooks,” Gavin replied quickly. “And, yes; it’s a date.” He paused, glancing over at me. “Or at least, I thought it was.”

Before I could come up with a response, Edwin chuckled wryly and turned on his heel. “Well. Perhaps you two need to get on the same page, then.”

And with that, he was gone.

Edwin’s POV

My jaw was clenched so tightly I thought I might c**k my teeth as I pushed out of the museum. The night air nipped at my skin, a cold wind blowing across the sidewalk, but I didn’t shiver. I was already cold enough on the inside.

I knew that I shouldn’t have been upset with Gavin or Audrey. They were just college kids, doing what college kids do-going on dates, enjoying life. Gavin seemed like a good guy, and if they liked each other, then I should have been glad for them.

But I wasn’t. I couldn’t help but feel irritated whenever I saw the way he smiled at her. And when they had been wandering the exhibit, his hand occasionally fluttering across

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her lower back or her arm, there was no denying the anger that bubbled up inside of

me.

“Edwin?”

The sound of a somewhat familiar voice caused me to turn. It was then that I saw Professor Lovelace, one of the philosophy professors, pushing out the door after me.

“Alexander,” I said, turning to face the middle-aged professor fully. “It’s a pleasure to

see you.”

Professor Lovelace, a somewhat short and portly man with balding hair and wire- rimmed glasses, stopped a few feet away from me. Despite his usually-jovial nature, he looked a bit red in the face and breathless.

“Same to you, Edwin,” he said, “but I’m afraid I’m not here solely to exchange pleasantries.

I quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? Is something the matter?”

The professor cringed visibly, glanced over his shoulder, then took a step closer and lowered his voice. “I overheard a… disturbing conversation between student just now,” he said quietly so only I could hear. “Did I hear her correctly when

you and your she accused you of… following her?”

My blood ran cold at the worry in his tone. “Uh…” My voice trailed off, and for the first time in… maybe forever, I felt at a loss for words.

Professor Lovelace, seeming to notice this, took another step closer. “Professor Brooks, I understand that this is your first semester teaching,” he said, “so perhaps you are not privy to the dangers-especially those that a good-looking man such as yourself might face.”

“Dangers?”

He nodded. “It’s not unheard of for professors to be accused of being attracted to students. I’ve heard some rumors about you and Miss Thatcher already-I believe it was Professor Richards who implied that you two may have had an unsavory relationship. Not that I’m accusing you of such a thing, of course; you seem to have a logical head on your shoulders, and…”

“Forgive me, Professor Lovelace, but I’d appreciate it if you got to the point,” I said a bit shortly, although not unkindly.

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The middle-aged professor nodded and adjusted his glasses. “Right. It’s just that I overheard your student imply that you were following her. I’m sure it was nothing but a coincidence, but you should be careful. It was only last year that another male professor was fired because a female student accused him of sleeping with her.”

Instantly, I felt my stomach bottom out. “And you’re saying…”

inder

“I know you and Miss Thatcher have nothing but a professional relationship,” Al stated, pulling his shoulders back. “But as a new professor, I thought that a little warning might be necessary. You have to be certain that students don’t get the wrong idea, otherwise…”

“Otherwise I could end up jobless,” I finished for him.

Professor Lovelace nodded. I thanked him, assuring him that there was nothing to be worried about, and he apologized for interrupting my night. Once he was gone, though, I let my hard mask slip-sighing, I slipped into the alleyway and leaned against the brick exterior of the building.

Fired…

Audrey wouldn’t tell anyone about what had really happened between us, would she?

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