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Aspen sinks. “No, sir. None. Everyone at Wyldan has been incredibly accommodating.”
Ah, see! A finger bang and pinecone gag for the win. That’s my good girl. Jackson and his side eye can get in the bin. I know you had her first, fucker. Dean Grundy nods, pleased.
“Arthur and Aster’s research was revolutionary. Truly. I, for one, was devastated when his work was discredited in such an oppressive, global way. They were definitely onto something. I can only hope the work continues somehow…”
“I’m doing it,” she replies with a conviction that surprises her.
“Really? That’s wonderful. If you need any help with anything…”
“I’m better working on my own. I trust myself, and few others.”
“Should that change at any point in the future, Aspen, please come see me. Your mother was taken from us too soon, and your father was a good man. A great asset to the world of botanical science.”
“And still is,” she counters. “He’s missing, not dead, Dean.”
“True,” Dean Grundy acquiesces, rubbing his chin as he stands. Aspen’s gaze bounces from face to face. Never settling on one for longer than necessary, but careful to remain respectful. Her thighs will still be sticky, and the poor thing has to sit there all demure next to the Dean. My methods border on barbaric, but I’m no masochist.
“Pinus contorta,” he exclaims, seeing the cone in my hand.
“Correct,” I reply, with as much boredom as I can muster. The moist cone has been hidden in my palm for the duration of this meeting. I guess the old fool still knows a thing or two… million about the botanical world.
“Something to keep your hands busy, eh?” he says with a wink, moving to the door.
“Or students quiet,” I add just as the door closes behind him.
Chapter Ten
Lukaz
PIZZA WITH PINEAPPLE (ANANAS COMOSUS)
I’ve searched everywhere other than the tunnels by the time Dean Grundy emerges from Professor Wyldan’s office. I’m just about to ask whether he’s seen Aspen, when her sweet voice is heard, also from Wyldan’s room. What the fuck, Princess? She’s been trapped in there with those two?
“Dean Grundy.”
“Hello, Lukaz. Were you looking for me?”
“No, sir. I’m looking for Aspen.”
“Ah. She’s a popular lass, that one. We just finished a meeting. She’s all yours now, I believe.”
“Thank you, sir. Good evening.”
“And to you, Lukaz.”
The Dean continues down the corridor with his aging gait, exacerbated by a hip injury. He wobbles for a moment, then the other leg swings forward to propel him on, as if the stumble is part of the movement. It’s not.
“Aspen,” I exclaim on seeing her in Wyldan’s doorway. “Is this about the molecular project? Because I should have been told.”
“Nothing to do with you, Vaskari,” Wyldan glowers.
Fuck him. Doc Bonner hovers behind his colleague. What the fuck is going on? A meeting with Aspen, the Dean, and two lecturers?
“I’m here to walk you to your dorm, Princess,” I tease, offering my elbow in an exaggerated crook as she steps forward. “Tali is waiting, and it’s pizza night.”
Aspen pauses, hesitant. Whatever happened in that office has her on edge. “Are you okay, Pen?”
“She’s fine,” Bonner says, a little too quickly for my liking. I’ll be the judge of that. She has given nothing away during our infrequent conversations. Tonight might be the perfect opportunity to unravel one fine tree.
