served. Failing that, he was determined to ensure that his depart-
ment was protected. Which is why he was horrified to find copies of letters addressed to Professor Emerson and Miss Mitchell with his
daily mail on the first Thursday in March.
Gabriel’s Rapture
Muttering expletives, he glanced at the contents quickly before
making a discreet call to one of his contacts in the Dean’s office. Half an hour later, he was placing a call to Professor Emerson’s home.
“Have you checked your snail mail today?”
Gabriel frowned. “No. Why?”
“Because I have a letter from the Dean indicating that you and
Julianne are being investigated for engaging in an inappropriate
relationship while she was your student.”
“Fuck,” said Gabriel.
“Exactly. Are you sitting down?”
“No.”
“Well, take a seat. I just got off the phone with a friend who
works in the Dean’s office. Julianne has filed a harassment complaint against Christa Peterson, pursuant to the allegations against her. In retaliation, Christa has threatened the university with a lawsuit over the fact that Julianne received preferential treatment because she slept with you. Christa’s allegations are now part of the investigation into you and Julianne.”
“That’s preposterous!”
“Is it?”
“Of course it is. It’s ridiculous.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Gabriel, because the university takes com-
plaints like this very seriously. The Provost’s office has ordered the Dean and two others to form a committee and investigate the allegations. You and Julianne are being summoned to appear before
them, together.”
Gabriel cursed. “Who else is on the committee?”
“My contact wouldn’t tel me. The good news is that the meeting
is only an investigatory hearing. Depending upon how the hearing
officers decide the matter, it could be referred to the Provost’s Office for charges to be laid, and then the two of you would have to appear before a disciplinary tribunal. I don’t need to explain to you how deep the shit would be at that point.”
“Why doesn’t the Dean simply meet with me? All of this could
be laid to rest in a few minutes.”
“I doubt that. Allegations and complaints are piling up and you’re at the center of all of them.”
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Gabriel’s heart almost stopped. “You think there are more al-
legations forthcoming?”
“I have my suspicions. But nothing has been confirmed.”
“Shit,” said Gabriel, rubbing his eyes roughly. “Just how much
trouble are we in?”
“If I were you, I’d stop thinking as a we and focus on I. That’s what got you into this mess in the first place.”
“Just answer the question, please.”
Jeremy paused, flipping through the letters on his desk. “Since
there is some question about the integrity of your marking scheme
with respect to Julianne, the Dean has suspended her grade in your seminar. That means that her transcript will be incomplete until the matter is resolved either with a dismissal or a tribunal and its outcome.”
“She won’t graduate,” Gabriel whispered.
“It’s University policy to withhold a final grade until all academic infractions are dealt with.”
“So depending on how long this takes, she won’t be able to go
to Harvard.”
“If the matter is settled in her favor, they’ll let the grade stand and backdate her graduation. But by that time, I would assume
she’d lose her place at Harvard. Unless she can persuade them to
defer her admission.”
“Her admission was conditional on the satisfactory completion of
her MA. She can ask, but I don’t think she’s in a position to ask for a deferral. And if Harvard catches wind of this, they might withdraw their offer.”
“Then she’d better pray this matter is settled in time for her to
apply to graduate. And frankly, so should you. If you’re found guilty of academic fraud, the Provost can strip you of your tenure.”
“Fuck.” Gabriel slammed his hand down on his desk. “When
will we have to appear before the committee?”
“Thursday, March twenty-fifth.”
“That leaves them less than a month to sort everything out before
she needs to apply for graduation.”
“Academic procedures move at a glacial pace. You know that.”
He cleared his throat. “Aren’t you the slightest bit worried about your predicament?”
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“Not particularly,” Gabriel growled.
“Well, you should be. And what’s more, my primary concern
is you, although I would be sorry to see Julianne’s academic future threatened.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“And I’m not about to let one of my star professors be hung
out to dry.” Jeremy heaved a deep breath. “Under the policy you’re suspected of violating, you bear more responsibility than her. You’re under suspicion of evaluating a student with reference to a criterion that has nothing to do with academic merit.”
“That’s preposterous and you have the paper trail to prove it.”
“No, I don’t.” Jeremy began tapping his finger against the pages
in front of him. “I have a paper trail, but it’s incomplete. You didn’t notify me until recently that you were involved with her. Now my
boss is starting to ask questions. Do you have any idea how embar-
rassing this is for me? I look like I just fell off the turnip truck and have no idea what the hell is going on in my own department!”
Gabriel inhaled and exhaled slowly.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you fucked up, Gabriel, no matter how you look
at it. And I’m not about to jeopardize everything I’ve worked for to cover your ass.”
Professor Emerson was stunned into silence.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating her? I hired you, for
God’s sake.”
“Because I didn’t think it was anyone’s business who I was sleep-
ing with.”
“You can’t be serious.” Jeremy muttered a curse. “You know the
rules governing relationships with students. Since you kept your
relationship secret from me and everyone else, you look guilty.”
Gabriel gritted his teeth. “Jeremy, can I count on your support
or not?”
“I’ll do what I can, but that might not be much. If I were you, I’d notify the Faculty Association and make sure you bring your union
representative to the hearing.”
“This is a witch hunt that was started by a disgruntled graduate
student. Christa Peterson is trying to have me fired.”
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“You might be right. But before you get on your soapbox, realize
that you violated university policy. That makes it much easier for the administration to infer that you’re guilty of other infractions. And by the way, I received an email from the Dean asking me about the M. P.
Emerson bursary. For your sake, I hope your fingerprints aren’t on it.”
Gabriel let loose with a string of curses. Jeremy interrupted him.
“If you don’t have a lawyer, my friend, now would be the time
to hire one.”
Gabriel muttered something and hung up the phone, walking
swiftly to his dining room to pour himself a drink.
P
Although Gabriel notifie
d the Faculty Association of his situation, he declined their offer to accompany him to the hearing. John was
of the opinion that his legal acumen was far more threatening than that of the union, but he was willing to admit that should the matter result in charges, it would be appropriate at that point to involve them.
John’s advice was to stonewall, although he urged Gabriel to
coach Julianne on what not to say. Failing that, he had every intention of arguing that she was an unstable, impressionable student who had become fixated on Gabriel at a young age and had seduced him.
Hoping that his client would fol ow instructions, John didn’t
bother to explain this strategy.
Soraya’s advice paral eled that of John. She told Julia to say nothing and if pressed, to blame Gabriel for everything. Soraya almost cackled with glee at the prospect of arguing that he was the older, rakish professor who had seduced an innocent young woman with
promises of a long and happy future. When Julia declared that she
wanted to tell the truth, Soraya told her that that was a very bad idea. She planned to bring up Gabriel’s promiscuous reputation and brushes with law enforcement.
Like John, she anticipated a cooperative client and thus didn’t
bother articulating the details of her strategy.
The night before the hearing, Julia was awakened mid-dream by
the sound of something tapping against her apartment window. At
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first, she thought she was still dreaming. When the sound repeated, this time more loudly, she exited her bed and pulled aside the curtain.
There, standing with his nose almost pressed against the glass, was Gabriel. He looked slightly wild, eyes frantic, wearing his beret and his winter coat, standing knee-deep in a snowdrift.
She quickly unlocked the window and stood aside as a gust of
frozen air whooshed past him with his entrance into the room. He
closed the window soundly, locked it, and drew the curtain.
“Gabriel, what are you — ”
She wasn’t given the chance to finish her question as he wrapped
her in his arms. She smelled the Scotch before she tasted it, as he pressed his lips to hers. His lips were freezing, it was true, but his mouth and tongue were warm and inviting. And the heat of his
kiss, which was deep and sensual, began to blossom across her skin.
“Are you drunk? What happened?”
He pulled away, but only for a moment, so he could divest himself
of his hat and coat. Then he was embracing her once again, tracing icy fingers up and down her arms, unbuttoning her pajama top and
slipping a hand inside to cradle her breast.
He moved her to the bed as he pulled his shirt out of his trousers, watching her slip off her pajamas as he carelessly dropped everything to the floor. Within an eye blink they were naked and he was pul ing her into his arms, tugging her legs around his hips. They’d never been this quick to undress and to love.
As he walked her to the closed door and pressed her back against
it, his movements grew frantic and desperate. His cold fingers teased her while his mouth trapped her breast, sucking and nipping.
She was crying out already, still shocked at his speechless fervor.
A few moments later she was distracted by the difference in
temperature between their bodies: the taut, hard coldness of his chest pressing against her soft, warm curves. When he felt with thawing
fingertips that she was ready, he thrust up into her, grunting into the crook of her neck in preliminary satisfaction, his upper body relaxing slightly at the feel of her. There was no space between their bodies or air between their skin.
Julia moaned appreciatively at the sensation of being one with
her beloved. Her hands immediately slid from his shoulders to his
hips, and she pulled at his lower back to encourage him forward.
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It was a cacophony of unembarrassed sounds and noises, made far
more animalistic by its lack of language and of course, the rhythmic bumping of Julia’s back against the heavy wooden door.
Their coupling was loud and fast, perhaps the most intense physi-
cal connection they’d ever had, topping even their sex against the wall in Florence. Soon they were exploding jointly into bliss, hearts racing and blood pumping, clutching one another and crying out.
Then finally, finally, they collapsed into a tangle of flesh and limb in limpid satisfaction on Julia’s narrow bed.
Gabriel was on top of her, but she would not let him move. He
shifted slightly to distribute his weight to the mattress, but he too was unwilling to break the contact of skin against skin.
She petted his hair and told him how much she loved him as he
buried his nose in the hollow of her throat, inhaling her scent. She told him that he didn’t need to drink, that he could talk to her, instead.
Gabriel sighed against her neck. “I am talking to you,” he
whispered, pressing insistent kisses across her shoulder. “You aren’t listening.”
Before Julia could argue, he began exploring her mouth. Further
discussion was silenced as he enticed her to join with his body once more.
When she awoke the next morning the apartment was quiet. In
fact, there was no sign of her evening visitor apart from an unlocked window and the scent of Gabriel and sex that clung to her body and the bed.
She searched the studio expecting a note, a message, something.
But there was nothing, not even an email. A creeping sense of dread spread over her.
P
Julia wore her hair long the next morning, fol owing Soraya’s
instructions, for it made her look sweet and innocent. At eleven o’
clock sharp she met her lawyer in the hallway outside the boardroom.
Gabriel and John were already there, huddled next to the wall and
Gabriel’s Rapture
and white shirts. But the similarity ended there. Gabriel wore a bow tie. The green of his tie contrasted sharply with the blue of his eyes.
He made eye contact with her briefly, enough for her to notice
that he looked worried. He didn’t smile or beckon to her. He seemed content to keep his distance.
She wanted to go to him, but Soraya pulled her to sit on a low
bench just outside the door. Suddenly, the door swung open and a
large, angry looking rugby player strode into the hallway.
“Paul?” Julia stood up.
He stopped, surprised.
“Julia? Are you all right? Tell me it isn’t — ”
Mid-sentence and mid-stride Paul stopped as he saw the face
of Soraya, who was now standing behind her. He stared at the two
women, eyes wide and questioning at first, then narrowing. Mutter-
ing curses, he scowled and strode past both of them.
“Paul?” Julia called to him, but he disappeared down the stairs.
“Do you know him?” asked Soraya.
“He’s a friend.”
“Really?” Soraya seemed incredulous.
Julia turned to face her. “Why? Do you know him?”
“He filed a complaint last year against one of my clients. That’s
when I made an enemy of the Dean.”
It took a moment for the import of Soraya’s revelation to sink
into Julia’s brain. But when it did, she sat down slowly.
Soraya was Professor Singer’s attorney? What have I gotten myself into?
Her answer to that question was interrupted by the Dean’s as-
sistant, Meagan, who announced that the hearing officers would
prefer to interview Miss Mitchell and Professor Emerson, together.
After a quick consultation with their lawyers, Gabriel and Julia
entered the boardroom, followed by John and Soraya. As soon as they arranged themselves on opposite sides of the aisle, Dr. Aras spoke.
As was his practice, he introduced himself and the other members
of the committee, Professors Tara Chakravartty and Robert Mwangi.
“Dr. Tara Chakravartty, Vice-President of Diversity.” Professor
Chakravartty was a beautiful and petite woman of Indian descent,
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with dark eyes and long, straight black hair. She was dressed in a black suit with a large persimmon-colored scarf swathed like a sari around her torso. She too, smiled at Julia, in between withering glances and the occasional scowl in David’s direction.
“Dr. Robert Mwangi, Vice-President of Student Affairs.” Professor
Mwangi was a Kenyan Canadian who wore wire-rimmed spectacles
and a button down shirt with no jacket and no tie. He was the most casually dressed of the four of them and the most obviously friendly.
He smiled at Julia, and she smiled back.
The Dean proceeded with his opening remarks.
“Miss Mitchell, Professor Emerson, you have been notified by
letter as to why your presence was required. Pursuant to our investigation of the allegation of academic misconduct against you, Miss Mitchell, we have talked to Professor Picton, Miss Peterson, Mrs.
Jenkins, Professor Jeremy Martin, and Mr. Paul Norris.
“During the course of our investigation, several facts emerged,
facts that have been corroborated by more than one witness.” The
Dean stared at Gabriel, pursing his lips. “For this reason, the Provost’s office ordered this committee be formed to investigate matters further.
“The facts that have come to light so far are as follows: first, that a public argument with possible personal overtones took place between Miss Mitchell and Professor Emerson during his graduate seminar
on or about October twenty-eighth, two thousand and nine.
“Second, that on or about October thirty-first, Professor Picton
agreed to supervise Miss Mitchell’s MA thesis at the urging of Professor Emerson, who later notified Professor Martin about the change.
Professor Emerson claimed that the switch was necessary due to a