Chapter 24

Gideon scanned the screen. The last time he’d stared this hard, he’d been looking at Megs’ name, hoping it would disappear. Now, he couldn’t figure out why it wouldn’t be showing up.

He picked up his phone and dialed the admin office. A secretary answered.

“Hi, this is Professor Adams. There’s a student in my Intro to Recording class who isn’t showing up on my student list. Could you take a look for me?”

“Of course. What’s the name?”

“Megs DeBosse.”

The woman’s fingers clicked over keys. “All right, I’m seeing a Megs Debosse, but it looks like that student profile has been deactivated.”

Deactivated? “What does that mean?”

“Well, let me see . . . it looks like . . . yes. There’s been a disciplinary decision made. Ms. DeBosse has been expelled from Champlain.”

Gideon sucked in a breath. The conversation he’d had with the Title Nine coordinator flooded his mind, and he scrolled back through his student list. Jennifer was still there. “Okay, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, professor. Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, that’s it. Thanks again.” He set his phone on the counter, trying to connect the dots. Jennifer had left class early before he got the call, letting him know that his review had been canceled. The coordinator said that the student listed on the complaint had come in and admitted to harassment.

But it didn’t make sense. The complaint was filed before Megs kissed him. Gideon packed up his laptop and stalked into the hall, then hurried to Donna’s office. Her door was propped open, so he knocked and pushed in.

“Professor Adams, what can I do for you?” She looked up from a book. A fork sat in a rice bowl next to her.

“Did you file a complaint against me? After you approached me about being in the recording studio with my female student?”

Donna adjusted her glasses. “No, Gideon, I didn’t file a complaint, though I still think—”

“Thank you.” Gideon bolted back down the hall. If Donna didn’t file the complaint, then who did? It didn’t matter at this point. Whatever had been said in that office, Megs had been the one to go in and admit fault. Don’t pretend I didn’t do anything. She felt responsible. That was the only thing that made sense.

He pulled out his phone and sent a message to his department head letting her know he had an emergency and would have to reschedule their meeting. Gideon pushed through the doors and headed to his car, scrolling for Megs’ number.

Megs glanced around the coffee shop, her heart sinking a little. It was almost closing time, but today it seemed like the universe was conspiring against her. Green Mountain was still bustling with customers. When did it become popular for high school students to cram for their midterms here instead of the library? She couldn’t blame them, though she wondered how they had enough disposable income to pay for pastries and designer coffee.

She needed to get home tonight to finish packing and take a load over to the new place. Frank had loaned them the truck to use for the entire weekend, but she was trying a new thing in her life called “not procrastinating”. So far, it felt like it was more trouble than it was worth.

Megs took and fulfilled another order, then grabbed a microfiber cloth to wipe down the counter. She could start pulling out the mop and make it obvious that people needed to wind down and leave, but she had plenty to do here in the kitchen area. In a few minutes, she’d actually remember to lock the door and flip the sign, and then she’d let people stay a bit longer if they needed to. It would both make them happy and possibly bring in a few extra tips. Win-win.

The bell above the door jingled, and her head snapped up out of habit. Her hand froze mid-swipe. Gideon wiped his shoes on the mat. He looked unfairly handsome in a simple gray sweater that hugged his muscular frame. He pushed up his glasses and looked toward the counter. Megs forced her mouth to close before straightening and cleaning the last half of the laminate.

Gideon approached the counter. He didn’t have his bag. He didn’t have anything with him. He was just there.

“Can I help you?” Megs couldn’t keep the wobble from her voice.

Gideon exhaled, never breaking his gaze. “A latte, please.”

“Full of dairy products, right?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Exactly how I like it.”

Megs turned away from him, her cheeks heating. She worked to keep her hands from shaking as she filled his order. Gideon waited patiently, and when she turned and handed him his coffee, he thanked her. “Do you need me to finish this and leave since you’re closing?”

Megs shook her head, a lump forming in her throat. “As long as you don’t mind me cleaning around you, you can enjoy the…not so peace and quiet.”

The corner of Gideon’s mouth curled as he walked toward the booth in the corner. It was taken, so he took a two-top along the wall. Megs swallowed hard, then strode to the door, locked it, and flipped the sign. That was all it took for some patrons to get the hint.

As expected, a couple stood to leave, and Megs motioned to the back exit by the bathrooms. “I locked the front door, but you can still go out that way.” They nodded and followed her instructions. Megs spotted a five-dollar bill on their table.

She tried not to have a panic attack as she bustled around, clearing and wiping down tables and restocking napkins. Why was Gideon here? The finalists hadn’t been announced, and the claim had been dropped. Had he realized her name was no longer on his student list? She wondered how long it would take him to figure that out.

When she left her meeting with the Title Nine coordinator, she was crystal clear on what her admission meant for her schooling: she would receive an incomplete grade for her class that semester and her student account would be deactivated. She wouldn’t be able to take classes at Champlain again. But that was fine by her. Maybe it was shortsighted on her end, but it wasn’t her career she was worried about.

The coordinator couldn’t give her any details where Gideon was concerned, so hearing from his own lips that the complaint against him had been dropped had given her peace. But it hadn’t made her stop thinking about him.

Megs snuck a glance across the shop and found Gideon looking at his phone as he drank his coffee. The high schoolers in the corner booth were the only ones left in the shop besides him, and she was willing them to get the hint and take off. Gideon met her eyes, and she nearly pushed her cloth off the edge of the table and face planted.

The anticipation of what conversation she and Gideon would have once they were alone made her clean at double speed. Within fifteen minutes, the shop was put back together and she pulled out the mop. A girl with curly hair puffing out the bottom of her beanie looked up and noticed the bucket. She poked her friend and motioned to the boys sitting across from her to wrap it up. They goofed off and flirted while Megs started in the corner, but once she’d turned over the chairs at the tables, they were on their way out.

“Thank you!” the girl called back. Megs gave her a wave, and as the door shut behind the girl’s half-open backpack, Megs’ heart turned into a metronome clicking past a hundred.

She couldn’t force herself to turn around and face him. What would she say? What would Gideon say? If he knew she wasn’t on his roster, did he think she quit or had he realized that she was the one that went to the administration? She should finish mopping, shouldn’t she?

“Megs.” Gideon’s voice was like molasses, smoothing through the now-empty shop and coating her skin.

Megs leaned on the mop handle for support as she turned. “Professor Adams.”

“That name is only for my students, and it doesn’t look like you’re in that group anymore.” He set his coffee cup on the table. “Were you planning to tell me why you weren’t in class on Wednesday?”