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I tried pushing the whole interaction out of my head after my talk with Serenity last night, but I’m starting to wonder if I said or did something that upset him.
“To add on to what Jeremiah said,” I interject before he can cut me off or change the subject, “I do think that we should consider society’s rules that are put upon us and decide if the risk is worth the reward to break them. If we always just go along with what was done previously because there’s this unwritten expectation or rule that is deemed the right way, then we risk never having progress.”
Mr. Gates stares at me for a moment. He opens his mouth like he’s going to respond, then turns and walks back toward the lectern.
“Miss James, while I do agree with you, I think your point comes from a place of inexperience and ignorance.”
His words are curt and I feel my face flush with embarrassment as a few students turn to look at me.
“So only experienced people like yourself, people with power and wealth can be game changers? Can disrupt and be the voice of progress?” My tone is a lot sharper than I intended but it gets my point across. I see his jaw clench as his fingers wrap tightly around the edge of the podium he’s standing behind.
“And until we become those people, if we ever do, we should just what? Bend over and take it?”
Serenity’s elbow hits my ribs gently as she turns to smile at me, speaking through her teeth. “What the fuck is going on?”
I don’t look at her. I keep my eyes trained on Cyrus as he does that thing again. Smirking while he drags his hand over his jaw like he’s biding his time before he rips my head off. But before he can answer, the bell dismisses us.
He doesn’t say another word. He grabs his coat and tosses it over his arm as he marches hurriedly out of our classroom. I gather my things quickly, holding my book in my hands instead of putting it in my bag so that I can catch up with him.
“Mr. Gates.” I say his name as I walk briskly after him. “Cyrus.” I opt for his first name, saying it louder, but he’s clearly ignoring me. “Professor!” I finally shout and it causes him to stop.
“What can I do for you, Miss James?” He says my name like it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
“You can explain to me what the hell is going on?”
“What do you mean?”
My frustration has reached a boiling point. “Care to explain why you refused to call on me in class today? After your very rude behavior at lunch yesterday when you”—I point my finger at him and I can see he doesn’t like that at all—“forced me to go to lunch with you.”
He looks down at where my finger is still extended, then slowly drags his eyes back up to mine. It’s seductive and intimidating at the same time. I drop my hand and let it rest on my hip.
“I came to tell you I start the job tomorrow and we need to discuss setting up a meeting so we can go over your expectations of me.”
“And you thought harassing me in the hallway would be the best time to do that? Call my secretary.” He turns to walk away again, but I don’t let him. I walk in front of him and stop.
“Seriously, what the hell is going on? You tell me to have a backbone, and then when I do, you punish me by ignoring me or playing some game or whatever this is. If I did something to offend you, then just be a man and tell me, but if it’s that you can’t stand working with a strong, confident woman, then this is going to be a problem.”
A smile slowly spreads across his face before he lets out a laugh, a real laugh. “Trust me, that’s not the issue.”
He grabs my arm, looking around before pulling me down a narrow hallway. He reaches forward and opens a door, gently pushing me inside and closing the door behind me.
“Where are we?” I look around the small dark room as I sit down in a chair.
“My office,” he says, tossing his coat on the desk, then turning back around to face me. “I like when you have a backbone.” He slides his hands in his pockets as he looks down at me. “Probably too much.”
“What does that mean?” I tilt my head up to look at him, but he doesn’t answer the question.
“What questions do you have about the job?” He steps backward, crossing his arms over his chest as he perches on the edge of the large wooden desk in the center of the room.
“I guess, what you need from me? What Becky did?”
“I think Lisa will be best suited to answer those questions. In fact, I’ll set up a meeting with the three of us in my real office so we can talk through it. How does that sound?”
I nod my head. “Good. Thank you.”
“As far as I know, I’m your only client, correct?”
“Yes.”
