Page 2 of Learning Curves

“She’s ... unpleasant, sorry to say.” Mercy gave her head a quick shake. “And that’s all I should say. Lord knows I hate gossip. You’ll see when you reintroduce yourself to her. Anyway, here’s your office.”

Audrey pushed that confusing tidbit to the side for now because this was her office!

She stared at the plain brown door before her.

There was a discolored spot at its center where the last occupant’s name plaque had rested.

She’d have to get a new one for herself.

Dr. Audrey Lind. Just picturing it gave her a thrill.

Using the key Mercy had given her, she unlocked the door and opened it, revealing a wooden desk that bore the wear and tear of countless others who’d used it before her. A bookcase stood against the right-hand wall, and behind the desk, a bright window beckoned.

“My office,” she breathed. In her adjunct positions, she’d never had her own space.

Once, she’d had to conduct office hours in the cafeteria, but now .

.. excitement bubbled up as she ran a hand over the desk.

Already, she was imagining where her things would go and how many paintings she could fit on the walls.

“You look properly impressed,” Mercy said from behind her. “Guess I don’t have to ask if you like your office.”

“It’s perfect.” Audrey turned to face her. “I can’t wait to set it up.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then. You should find a hand dolly in the supply closet downstairs, if you need it to help with your boxes. Just let me know if you need anything. I’m down the other end of the hall.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Or text me, whichever’s easier.”

“Will do. Thanks so much, Mercy.”

“You bet. See you around.” With a wave, she headed down the hall.

Audrey spun in the middle of her office, taking a moment to just soak it in.

The walls were bare and white, riddled with nicks and scratches, but to her, they were a blank slate.

Her gaze drifted to the door across the hall.

Mercy’s opinion of Dr. Thompson was somewhat shocking.

Unpleasant , she’d called her. That wasn’t the Dr. Thompson whom Audrey had known.

She had radiated joy when she spoke about art, particularly when she taught her students about some of the more overlooked female artists throughout history.

She’d inspired Audrey in so many ways. It still boggled her mind that she would be working with her now, a peer, a colleague, their offices so close together they could wave to each other across the hall if they both kept their doors open.

The gold nameplate caught her gaze. Dr. Michelle Thompson.

Michelle.

Of course Audrey had been peripherally aware of Dr. Thompson’s first name, but now she would probably be expected to call her by it, and that felt ... weird. She’d been Dr. Thompson in Audrey’s mind for so many years.

Audrey walked to the worn chair behind her desk and sat, wincing as the chair let out an embarrassingly loud squeak.

It was upholstered in a blue-patterned fabric that had seen better days.

It wasn’t comfortable, either, but a chair was easy to replace.

Surely there was an office supply store around here.

She remembered from her undergrad days that this part of Vermont had been frustratingly lacking in shopping and other services, but who knew what new things had popped up since she’d last been here?

She imagined herself sitting at her desk, grading papers.

Or even better ... sitting across from a student, helping them work through a problem.

Curious, she stood to peek out the window.

Her office was on the back side of the building, which faced the forest, and while she would’ve rather been able to look out over the quad, this was nice, too .

.. peaceful. She could just make out the Green Mountains in the distance.

This job was a dream come true. She loved it here.

Audrey fitted her new keys onto her key ring and set out to find the hand dolly Mercy had mentioned.

The supply closet was easy to locate, and from there, she rolled the dolly to her car.

She put a box of books on the bottom and then added a box containing some of her ceramics on top so the books could cushion it from bumps.

She’d already packed everything so thoroughly that it should be bump-proof, though. Her ceramics were priceless to her.

As she made her way back to Holman Hall, a drizzling rain began to fall, and dammit, she’d left her umbrella in the car. Since she was already halfway to her destination, she started to hurry, hoping to make it inside before she—or her boxes—got too wet.

She mostly succeeded, but she felt damp and frazzled by the time she hurried up the ramp to Holman Hall.

She wiped raindrops from her boxes before brushing wet hair out of her eyes.

The rain was picking up now, and she might have to leave the rest of her boxes until tomorrow.

Maybe she’d put these two in her office and call it a day.

As she stood waiting for the elevator, Audrey heard someone else approaching.

“... foolishness, when the department is already over budget,” a man said.

A woman’s voice made a sound of agreement before he continued.

“Bet she’s young. You know Stuart’s been on a kick to freshen up the department lately.” There was derision in the man’s tone, and Audrey had the sudden, sinking realization that not only were these two of her new coworkers, but they were probably talking about her .

“Frankly, I was surprised to hear we had a new professor at all,” the woman said, and that voice ... the British accent ...

Oh no.

Audrey knew that voice. She’d once fantasized about that sultry accent, and she’d admired the woman behind it more than just about anyone else in the world.

“If you ask me,” the woman continued, “we’d have been better served to give whatever classes she’s teaching to the existing staff.”

“Absolutely. A damn shame,” the man responded just as the pair passed the alcove where Audrey stood.

The elevator arrived with a brisk ding, causing the gossipers to look Audrey’s way, and sure enough, she found herself staring into the slightly widened eyes of Dr. Michelle Thompson.

Michelle’s skin prickled with discomfort as she recognized the woman waiting for the lift.

Audrey Lind, the new hire she and Marcus had just been discussing .

.. and not very nicely either. Years ago, Michelle had been Audrey’s undergrad advisor.

She’d thought the young woman displayed impressive potential, both as an artist and as an academic.

But she hadn’t expected Audrey to wind up here .

Not when Michelle was struggling to keep her head above water, fighting for each breath she took in this stifling building.

She was slowly drowning, but that was no excuse for her behavior.

Michelle loathed gossip, but unfortunately there was no taking back what she’d said.

And if Audrey’s wounded expression was any indication, she’d overheard every word.

“Oh, hello,” Marcus said, either ignorant of Audrey’s identity or pretending that was the case. “Marcus Elkin. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Audrey Lind.” She extended a hand, her expression polite. “I’m the new assistant professor, but I’m also a Northshire alum. In fact, I took one of your classes when I was an undergrad, Dr. Elkin.”

“Did you really?” Marcus held the door to the lift for her as she wheeled her cart into it, and before Michelle could extract herself from the situation, they were all inside, doomed to an awkward—if brief—journey to the second floor together.

Audrey nodded. “The Global Renaissance, a fascinating class.”

“Fantastic,” he enthused, as polite now as he’d been rude before. “Please call me Marcus.”

“Marcus,” Audrey repeated softly.

This was exactly why Michelle rarely socialized with her coworkers.

It was all a bunch of insincerity and posturing, and right now, she intensely regretted allowing Marcus to draw her into a conversation in the lobby.

She’d gotten caught up in venting her frustration about the department chair’s unwise decision to bring in a new assistant professor, and now she’d unintentionally insulted her former student.

Audrey caught her eye and extended a hand. “Dr. Thompson.”

“Audrey. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Audrey smiled at her, looking as bright-eyed and full of wonder as she had as an eighteen-year-old freshman, unapologetically enthusiastic about Michelle’s classes.

Oh, how she missed having students like Audrey.

These days, she was lucky if anyone paid attention at all.

Most of her students were discreetly checking their phones and texting their friends.

The lift dinged again, and its doors opened on the second floor.

“Good luck, Audrey,” Marcus said. “Let me know if I can be of any help as you settle in.” He turned right, toward his office. Michelle and Audrey both turned left, confirming Michelle’s suspicion that her new coworker would be occupying the vacant office across from hers.

Certainly, she should apologize for what Audrey had overheard, but she couldn’t seem to find the right words.

This was probably why no one in the building liked her.

But Audrey used to like her, used to respect her, even.

Michelle couldn’t bear to have her become yet another person who dreaded Michelle’s presence.

If only her interpersonal skills weren’t so rusty . ..

She and Audrey walked toward their offices at the end of the hall. The dolly Audrey was pulling had a squeaky wheel, and the high-pitched sound grated on Michelle’s nerves.

“What classes will you be teaching?” she asked, working her way toward an apology.

“I’ve got two ceramics classes,” Audrey said, and there was that energetic enthusiasm again. In jeans and a red T-shirt, with her honey-brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail, she could still pass for a student. “And my personal favorite, Women in Art.”

Michelle exhaled roughly. Women in Art. The topic of her doctoral dissertation.

Her passion. Her lifeblood. The class she proposed to the department chair year after year, only to be rejected every single time.

“Women in Art?” she managed, hoping she sounded curious rather than furious, but the guarded look on Audrey’s face suggested she’d been unsuccessful.

“It’s a class I developed over the past year, showcasing some of the female artists who’ve been overlooked throughout history. It’s actually ... you’re the one who inspired me to look for those women, Dr. Thompson. This class is something I’ve always wanted to teach.”

Audrey spoke those words with such earnestness, as if she’d been waiting for this opportunity as long as Michelle had, when in reality, she was so young, so inexperienced.

This was likely her first job, when Michelle had worked so much longer, so much harder, only to have the class she was born to teach given to a newcomer.

“Good for you.” Michelle intended the words to be neutral, hopefully even kind, but they came out harsh, tasting bitter on her tongue.

She’d always been prickly when defensive, and right now, she was a porcupine rolled up in a ball, quills protruding to ward off predators .

.. or in this case, bright-eyed young professors.

Michelle knew she had responded badly, but there was no undoing it. Now she just wanted to retreat to the sanctuary of her office, where she could tend to her emotional wounds with privacy. “Have a nice day, Audrey.”

With hands that weren’t nearly as steady as they should have been, she unlocked her office and slipped inside, shutting the door behind herself. She leaned against it and exhaled, resting a hand against her stomach, which ached with disappointment.

Somehow, naive, eager Audrey would be teaching the class Michelle had been begging to teach for years. It was a slap in the face. A kick in the gut. And now she’d lost all motivation to prepare her office for the upcoming semester.

After spending several weeks in Cornwall over the summer studying the history of its artist colony, she’d been eager to get back to her office and begin updating her materials with some of the photos and data she’d accumulated in her research.

Obviously, that had been a mistake, but this mistake was easy to remedy.

Without even setting down her briefcase, Michelle turned around and exited her office.

She’d begin her prep work tomorrow. Right now, she just wanted to hide, both from the shame of treating Audrey so badly and the disappointment of having the Women in Art class snatched from her.

Michelle was going home.