Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

Casper was surprised,no, shocked, that he felt so confident as he strode across the campus green of the Royal University of London, the Humanities building in his sight. Unlike every other interview for a professorship that he’d gone to in the past, this time, he felt sure of himself and confident that the job was his for the taking. He felt tall and important, and he carried himself like he was already a respected member of the faculty. He even nodded sagely to another, grey-haired, tweed-wearing professor-type who could very well end up being his colleague. And the man nodded back like he already was.

It was that confidence that helped him introduce himself to the middle-aged woman behind the desk in the History department with a smooth, “Dr. Penhurst here to see Dr. Morrow and Dr. Addison.”

“Of course, sir. Just one moment,” the woman had said, smiling at him with genuine gladness, before stepping away from her desk and down the hall to one of the offices.

It was all Sawyer. Every bit of the newfound confidence Casper had was one hundred percent because of the difference Sawyer had made in his life. And it wasn’t watching the way Sawyer so deftly handled his fans and the media that had taught Casper how to deport himself, although that was part of it. It was the fact that Sawyer cared about him, wanted him. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Casper felt like he had value, to himself and others.

“If you could just have a seat, Dr. Penhurst. They’ll be with you in just a moment,” the receptionist said, gesturing toward one of the chairs against the wall.

“Thank you.” Casper smiled and took the seat, resting his messenger bag on his knees.

Every other time he’d gone for an interview, he’d felt like one of the students being called into the headmaster’s office to face punishment for some dread crime. Now, he knew that he belonged there. Academia had been his dream since he was a small boy, and today was the day he finally achieved that dream.

And who knew? He might just achieve a second dream at the same time as the first if the university was interested in publishing his work on The Brotherhood. He had the latest draft of the manuscript with him on the off chance the hiring committee would want to read it as part of their consideration in hiring him. Anything was possible.

Anything was possible. That was the lesson Sawyer had taught him. He was just as capable of earning a place at the table of a major university as he was stepping out, hand in hand, with a man he genuinely cared about, who he loved. He was increasingly certain that he was in love with Sawyer, and by some miracle, he was confident Sawyer was in love with him.

Who would have thought that any of that would have been true of his life just a few months ago?

“Dr. Penhurst,” an older gentleman with wire-rimmed glasses said as he stepped into the reception area. As Casper stood and reached for the man’s extended hand, he introduced himself with, “I’m Dr. Morrow. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Casper said, excited but confident.

“We’ve been anticipating your arrival all day,” Dr. Morrow said, indicating that Casper should walk with him down the corridor to the office the receptionist had ducked into earlier. “Dr. Addison and myself have so many questions for you.”

“I’ll be happy to answer all of them,” Casper said, taking Dr. Morrow’s enthusiasm for his interview as a good sign.

The office was a delicious piece of academic ostentation. Dr. Morrow was the head of the History department, and unsurprisingly, his office was nearly wall-to-wall books with several antique volumes on display. He was also a professor of Medieval History, and the glass-enclosed tapestry and multiple prints of pages from illuminated manuscripts on the walls, not to mention the full suit of armor replica in the corner, said as much.

Dr. Addison, a woman who appeared to be in her late-fifties, was already seated on one side of an old, oak table that took up much of the center of the room instead of a desk, but she rose to greet Casper at once.

“Dr. Casper Penhurst,” she said, her smile broad and her eyes bright. “I’m so pleased to meet you. You look every bit as charming as you do in all those pictures that are circulating of you and Sawyer Kingston.”

Casper’s heart dropped into his gut, and he had to fight to maintain his smile. Of all the places he would have thought the sensationalism of social media and celebrity wouldn’t touch, the History department of the Royal University of London was at the top of the list. But it seemed he’d been wrong.

“You had some spectacular snaps of Whitby Abbey along with those candid shots of you and Sawyer Kingston,” Dr. Morrow added, indicating that Casper should sit at the table with him and Dr. Addison. “You’ve been the historical consultant for this After the War television program they’ve been filming up in North Yorkshire, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have,” Casper said, sinking to sit in one of the chars while Dr. Morrow and Dr. Addison sat across from him. He didn’t want to be confrontational, but the unsettled feeling that he wasn’t there for his academic credentials made him want to set things straight. “I was hired by the production because of my research into queer history and my position as official historian to The Brotherhood.”

“I’m certain your background has come in very handy on set,” Dr. Morrow said. “I’ve always been fascinated by the cinema and how things like television shows are filmed. I bet you could give me some insights on how that sort of production operates.”

Casper’s smile slipped a bit more. “You know what they say,” he said with a tight laugh. “Filming is actually a long and boring process that involves mostly sitting around, waiting for things to happen.”

“But all the people you’ve had a chance to meet,” Dr. Addison said, gazing at him with stars in her eyes. “That Phillip Dunstan is a dish, isn’t he? He’s one of the stars of this new show,” she told Dr. Morrow, as if he didn’t know.

Casper swallowed hard. “He works hard,” he said. That was about the nicest thing he could come up with, considering his and Sawyer’s suspicions that Phillip knew who took the photo of Sawyer and Vanessa that night, but wasn’t coming forward with the information for his own reasons.

“You haven’t, by any chance, ever considered teaching a History of Film class, have you?” Dr. Morrow asked.

Casper’s mouth dropped open for a moment before he could come up with an answer. “I…I hadn’t considered it. My area of expertise is the nineteenth century. But I suppose, if it was needed, I could develop a course on the History of Film.”

“You’d have so many stories to tell, since you’re dating a film star,” Dr. Addison said. Her face pinched slightly, and Casper had about two seconds of hope that she remembered how to conduct an academic job interview professionally before she said, “What’s it like, dating a film star?”

“It’s…nice,” Casper said. His stomach hurt like someone had delivered a gut-punch when he wasn’t ready for it. They’d barely started, and already the interview was more painful than any of the stilted, awkward interviews he’d suffered through in the past.

He thought he was saved when Dr. Morrow reached for what looked like his application and a file of notes, saying, “So your area of specialty is the nineteenth century. What sort of focus have you had within that era?”

With a sigh of relief, Casper answered, “Social history, mostly. With an emphasis on queer studies. My work with The Brotherhood has led me down some interesting paths, and I’m eager to develop a course, perhaps even an entire area of study, here at RUL centered around queer history.”

“I suppose that makes perfect sense,” Dr. Addison said, her eager smile not diminishing at all. “Oscar Wilde was deeply involved in the theater, of course, as were a great many people of differing sexual identities. That fits right in with your connection to Sawyer Kingston and Hollywood.”

Casper fought for patience. “There is a great deal more to it than that,” he said, trying to remain respectful. “There’s enough in the history of anti-sodomy laws and their implementation, or lack thereof, to form an entire course. So much of queer history is only just coming to light.”

“I can see you are passionate about this subject, Dr. Penhurst,” Dr. Morrow said. “We have a few nineteenth century classes that are part of the standard curriculum already. Would you feel capable of teaching those?”

“Absolutely,” Casper said.

He went on to elaborate, and both Dr. Morrow and Dr. Addison asked follow-up questions that seemed to be leading them more towards academia and away from Hollywood, but the prickle at the back of Casper’s neck remained. He’d worked for almost all of his adult life to land a position exactly like the one he was being interviewed for, but everything about the moment he found himself in felt wrong.

That hit home most of all as the interview seemed to be wrapping up when Dr. Morrow—who had been the more professional of the two professors up until that point—asked, “So, Dr. Penhurst. If we were to offer you this position, do you think you would be able to use your celebrity connections to help promote the university?”

Casper swallowed hard. That was it. That was what RUL wanted from him. They might have cared somewhat about his academic chops and his past research, but what they were really looking for was someone to boost enrollment, someone who just so happened to be dating a celebrity.

“I…I don’t know,” Casper said honestly, his insides writhing. “I’ll admit that it never occurred to me that I would be useful as anything other than someone with a vast knowledge and a love of History. My sincerest dream for years has been to bring that passion to students and to make them see that the dusty old past isn’t as dusty as they might think, and to instill in them a love of the complex and exciting lives that have come before us.”

“Well said, Dr. Penhurst,” Dr. Addison said. She smiled at her colleague, then sent Casper a conspiratorial look as she added, “I must say, you are far and away my first choice for this position. We have a few others we need to interview as well, but I think you will be a fresh and exciting addition to the History faculty.”

It might have been alright if she’d left it there, but she had to add, “And I wouldn’t mind you bringing Sawyer Kingston to faculty events.”

Casper smiled, but inside, he felt like he’d been robbed of something precious to him. Just when he thought he’d been seen and noticed, the interview had proven that Sawyer could still eclipse him, even when he wasn’t there.

“Thank you for meeting with us today, Dr. Penhurst,” Dr. Morrow said, rising and offering his hand to Casper. “You’ve given us a great deal to think about.”

“Thank you,” Casper shook his hand once he’d stood and walked around the table. “It was a pleasure meeting both of you.”

“The pleasure was all ours,” Dr. Addison said as they walked to the door. “Give Sawyer Kingston my love.”

Her final statement as Casper stepped into the hall felt like the door being slammed behind him, even though both professors accompanied him to the reception area and said goodbye to him a second time, all smiles and waves, as he left the office.

They didn’t want him, they wanted Sawyer. They hadn’t given him a chance to say much about his book on the history of The Brotherhood, although when he’d touched on it, Dr. Morrow had been deeply excited about his idea of publishing a book about the real history behind After the War. He was absolutely certain they would offer him the position as soon as they could, but it felt like they were offering it to Sawyer, not him. It felt…wrong.

The awkwardness of that feeling followed him as he left the Humanities building and made his way across the green. His head was spinning and his emotions were a wreck, and he didn’t have the first clue what he really felt or how he should proceed. He stopped to sit on a bench under a large, leafy oak and rested his elbows on his knees, planting his face in his hands.

All he’d ever wanted was to be a professor at a university like the Royal University of London. He’d wanted to spend his days sharing his love of History, especially the History that had been hidden for so long, with others. He thought he could do some real good in the world by teaching anyone who would listen that History wasn’t just about straight, white men or nobles and royals. He wanted to show the world that ordinary people were the ones who made the world go ’round.

But did he want it so badly that he would take the job because he was dating a high-profile celebrity who might show up at their fundraising events? Could he stomach the idea of grasping at his dream if it was being handed to him for impure reasons.

“This is ridiculous,” he breathed out, pushing himself to sit and stare out at the campus. Of course he still wanted to teach. It was the only thing he’d ever wanted to do. He’d be a bloody fool to turn down the job he’d always wanted just because the people offering it to him loved the movies.

But could he look at himself in the mirror every morning if he knew he’d taken the job from someone more deserving because he was dating the right man?

Frustration began to swoop in to replace the awkwardness Casper had felt all through the interview when his phone started to ring. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with anything else, but when he pulled his phone from his pocket and saw Sawyer’s name on the screen, he felt so relieved he wanted to sob.

Instead, he answered the call with a heartfelt, “Hello, darling.”

“Ooh!” Sawyer exclaimed. “That feels nice. Do that again.”

Casper laughed, his tension draining away at lightning speed. “Hello, darling,” he said, doing his best to sound sultry.

He couldn’t quite pull it off, and both he and Sawyer laughed.

“Did you have your interview yet?” Sawyer asked. “How did it go?”

Casper made a frustrated sound. He would so much rather have shoved aside the day he was having to hear about how Sawyer’s meeting with his publicist had gone.

“It went swimmingly,” he said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “If you consider being asked about your famous boyfriend through the whole thing and whether said famous boyfriend would show up to university events and do a little publicity to be swimmingly.”

A heavy silence came from Sawyer’s end of the call before he said, “God, Casper. I’m so sorry.”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Casper sighed, even though it absolutely did. “It’s not your fault.”

“It sort of is,” Sawyer argued.

“No, it’s their fault,” Casper insisted. “I did everything I could to focus on my academic credentials and to steer the conversation the way it should have gone.”

“Were they impressed at least?” Sawyer asked.

Casper shrugged, even though Sawyer couldn’t see it. “I think so, actually.” He paused, then said, “They more or less offered me the position on the spot, though unofficially.”

“That’s great…isn’t it?” Sawyer sounded about as uncertain as Casper felt.

“I don’t know,” Casper sighed. “I want to teach, I’m just not sure I want to teach like that.”

Sawyer made a sound of sympathetic agreement.

“How is your day going?” Casper asked, eager to move the focus away from his troubles.

“Alright,” Sawyer said, sounding like he wasn’t convinced. “Things with Rebecca went fairly well. She’s made a statement on my behalf, basically telling everyone that yes, I’m gay, and to bugger off and find something better to do.”

Casper smiled. “Good for you. Or good for Rebecca.”

“And then I ran into Ellis Dixon at my photo shoot and got some lovely words of advice and support from him.”

“Ellis is a fantastic guy,” Casper said, feeling more settled in his soul. The world might have been mixed up and celebrity crazy, but they still had support and good people on their side.

“Anyhow,” Sawyer went on, “I’ve got a ton of publicity things to do for Start at the Beginning today, so I won’t be home until late. Is that alright?”

Affection blossomed in Casper’s chest. “Yes, that’s fine. There’s always someone manning the door of the Chameleon Club who can let you in.”

“Perfect. Oh!” Casper heard something in the background on Sawyer’s end, then Sawyer said, “Shit. I’ve got to go. I wish I could talk to you longer, though and find out more about this interview.”

“There will be time for that later,” Casper said, smiling. “Go be famous.”

Sawyer laughed. “Take care,” he said, the words tender and sweet, then ended the call.

Casper smiled at his phone for a moment, then got up and headed on toward the train station.

The trouble was, as safe and happy as he felt when talking to Sawyer or when the two of them were together, that feeling that everything was okay faded fast when the two of them weren’t connected, and the doubts and frustrations from before swept back in. Casper was exactly where he’d always wanted to be with the future he’d dreamed of at his fingertips, but he was no longer certain any of it was what he wanted.