Chapter 1

Professor Ned Sommerfield reached into his pocket and retrieved his key ring. He unlocked the door to his office, switched on the light and placed his case on his desk. From it he took his laptop and powered it up. As it came to life he began flipping through the pages of the latest Campus Lampoon, the university's student humor magazine.

A woman breezed into his office. He looked up. "Well, hello, Caitlin," he said. "Haven't seen you around much."

She plopped into a fiberglass chair and let out a heavy sigh. Ned regarded her. She was of slender build and stood about five foot nine. She wore her curly, raven hair in a short but full cut, had brown eyes and thick lips. Caitlin was in her early thirties -- nearly twenty years younger than he was.

"Something wrong?" he asked. Caitlin shrugged. "By the way ... You're in this year's PILF survey in the Lampoon ... Profs I'd Like to..."

She reached up and snatched the magazine from him. "Let me see that..."

Caitlin bit her lip and glowered as she read the article and then tossed the magazine into Ned's wastebasket. "Hey ... I paid for that." He fished it from the basket.

"That survey is an outrage. They lifted my photo from the faculty directory."

"An outrage? Why? Because you're at number five? You're up from number eight last year ... not quite on the podium but you're moving up." He slipped on his reading glasses and flipped through the journal. "I thought what they said was quite flattering." He began reading. "Professor Caitlin Frost ... microbiologist. Professor Frost is what we call a Tech Lifer ... Graduated with honors from this august institution in 2004, awarded PhD in 2006..." He looked up at her. "PhD in three years ... from here, no less. Impressive."

"Keep reading. You'll get to the salacious part."

"Stayed on as a post-doc ... made assistant professor in 2011 ... now on track for tenure."

"Keep reading."

"Ahh ... Professor Frost is the sort who prefers to hide her candle under a bushel. Tall, flat-chested..."

Caitlin glowered at him. "Since when does someone's bra size come into this?"

"You're not flat-chested. They got that part wrong. I do think you deliberately downplay your assets."

"You don't know what it's like to be a woman ... horny undergraduates looking at you like carnivores eyeing a chunk of red meat."

"You're right -- I don't know what it's like..." He resumed reading. "Doctor Frost likes to present an image of studious sobriety. Think school marm or the head librarian. But, hey -- librarians can be hot. We think there's some heat under that bushel. Catch her smiling and you'll get a glimpse of her stealth beauty." Ned looked up. "They're right. I think you have a pretty smile."

"When have you ever seen me smile?"

"You're smiling in this photo." He held up the magazine. She continued glowering at him, clenching and flexing her jaw muscles as he continued reading. "With her sultry voice and stealth good looks we'll bet she has the goods under those granny skirts she wears..."

"That's enough!" Caitlin snatched the magazine from him and threw it in the trash again.

"Lighten up," he said as he picked the magazine from his wastebasket. "These are just normal undergraduates engaging in a little fun."

"At our expense. Why do YOU enjoy such sophomoric humor?"

"I was a sophomore once. I guess it stuck."

"How would you like it if they held a survey of gay students to see who THEY'd like to fuck ... and they wrote that sort of stuff about you? Then the shoe would be on the other foot, wouldn't it?"

"Well ... The Gay PILF survey is in there as well. Alas, I did not make the cut."

"Poor you."

"Steve Stoddard did."

"Steve? Lemme see..." She took the magazine from him and flipped through it. "I've had my doubts about him..."

Ned stood and pointed at her. "See? It all depends on whose ox is being gored." Caitlin threw the magazine back into the trash. She stood and faced him, her lip quivering and her eyes filling. "What's wrong?" he asked. "That stupid survey couldn't possibly have upset you like this."

"He dumped me!" She began wiping tears from her face.

"Chad? Dumped you?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "He said I was frigid!"

"Well ... with a name like Frost..."

"This is no joke, Ned. I thought he was the one. I really did."

Ned stepped from behind his desk and approached her. "I know for a fact that you're not frigid."

"I couldn't come with him. It was so frustrating."

"If a man can't bring his woman to orgasm -- it's his problem, not hers. He's too wrapped up in himself to care about her. Forget about him ... be glad you're rid of him."

"You're just saying that."

"I mean it. How long were you together?"

"Six months."

"I mean ... how long had you been sleeping together?"

"Two months."

"You dated him for four months before laying him?"

"What's the big deal? It took you five years."

"That had something to do with the dean's rule against profs shagging students ... even if they happen to be grad students in another department."

"That only accounts for three years out of the five," she replied. "How come it took you another two years? You were afraid of me, weren't you?"

"ME? Afraid of YOU?"

"Brother! You don't remember anything, do you? If I hadn't initiated something our friendship would still be platonic."

"That's not how I recall it," Ned replied. "Do you remember that joint Chem-Bio department Christmas party? The one with the Jell-O shots and the big bowl of eggnog that someone spiked with lab alky? You were doing post-doc work, and you were still living in that old trailer on the edge of town. Remember?"

"Yes..."

"I had enough sense to stay away from the Jell-O shots, but you had four or five ... plus several helpings of eggnog. Then, it started snowing. By then you were pretty much out of it -- I don't think you could walk a straight line. I suggested instead of driving in the snow in your condition that you walk with me back to my place, since it's just down the hill from the Science Center. I said you could have the bed and I'd take the sofa. Well, the walk in the fresh air cleared your head somewhat -- enough so when we got home you raided my refrigerator and discovered some red jug wine. Is it coming back to you?"

She shook her head.

"You didn't remember much that night. We downed some wine and then we couldn't keep our hands off each other ... until, that is, you got the spins. You didn't quite make it to the bathroom. Remember that?" Caitlin shook her head. "Well -- my carpet does. A mix of lime Jell-O, partly digested eggnog and red wine makes a stain with staying power. I put you into bed, facing downward so if you started puking again you wouldn't choke on your own vomit; then, I stayed up watching you until I was sure you were out of danger. I put your clothes in the washer and dryer and laid them on the bed. Remember?"

"I remember waking up..."

"Yeah -- in a panic, not knowing where you were or how you got there or why you were naked and assuming the worst. You bolted out of there like a turpentined cat ... avoided me for a week ... threatened to go to the dean. Finally you agreed we should meet in a neutral place and talk it over. We went to the Coffee Pot, sat in a booth and talked all morning. We cleared the air and concluded maybe what we attempted wasn't such a bad idea after all. We agreed to try it again without the alcohol and see what happens. We were both pleased with the result, and after that we formed our understanding -- we weren't lovers, we were just friends, no emotional baggage, no ball-and-chain, the sex was purely recreational, we could see other people and either of us could walk away whenever we liked."

"I remember that part ... word-for-word. But, you told me I started it the night of the party..."

"You might've thrown the first pass at our booze-fueled gropefest, and you were the first to take off your shirt. I don't think that counts as initiating a sexual relationship."

"But..."

"Is your recollection of events leading up to it different? Are you writing revisionist history or something?" Ned snorted. "Don't make me out as some Casper Milquetoast you had to prod into action. It was mutual. I wanted it as much as you did, and I was the one who broke the ice."

"It still doesn't explain the extra two years..."

"That was because I didn't think intramural relationships were a good idea. I still don't, but I've made ours an exception. If you and I were in the same department -- it would not have happened. Being in the same school and reporting to the same dean is dicey enough. I know he doesn't like it."

Her lip quivered. "Why are you doing this? Why are you being so mean to me?"

"Why is it every time you lose a boyfriend you come pick a fight with me?"

"I don't do that."

"Yes, you do."

"I do not!"

"All right -- not every time. Just most of the time -- when you're the one being dumped. When you do the dumping, you're as sweet as pie."

"Right. I'm always the dumpee. Are you insinuating that I'm imminently ... dumpable?"

"I'm not passing judgment on dumpability. I'm only stating what I observe, and I observe a definite pattern here." She faced him flexing her jaw, her eyes narrowed and a vein in her forehead standing out. Then she threw a slap at his face. Ned blocked it with his forearm. "Not in the face," he said.

She took a step backward. "Oh, God..." Her eyes started filling. "Oh, my God!"

"Caitlin ... I know you're hurting. That's why you're lashing out. You need to vent some hostility. You want to hurt someone. If you need me to be your punching bag -- go ahead. I can take it. I'm strong enough. Our friendship is strong enough. Just not in the face, okay?"

Ned opened his desk drawer, took out a felt marker and handed it to her. Then he pulled his shirt out his waistband and unbuttoned it. "Here," he said throwing his shirt off his shoulders and tapping his sternum. "Write the word 'Everlast' right here and then have at me."

She giggled, put her hand to her mouth and laughed. Ned opened his arms and she fell into them, sobbing. "Oh, God! It hurts! I hurt so much!"

He held her, caressed her back and kissed the top of her head. "Let it out. Let it all out. Don't hold anything back." She put her arms around him and squeezed him tight as she wept. He could feel her shoulders quaking. "It's the rejection, isn't it? That's what hurts the most."

"Uh-uh..." She nodded as she sobbed. Finally she started to regain her composure. "You did it on purpose," she sniffled.

"Did what?"

"You know what you did ... those mean words ... You goaded me into taking a swat at you. You knew it would make me cry."

"You needed a good cry. You feel better now, don't you?"

" ... yeah..."

"The last time I got dumped I had a good cry. A real good one." He kissed her forehead and lifted her chin with his finger. "I'm sorry I used such strong medicine. I had to snap you out of it, though. Last time this happened, you tried to stiff-upper-lip it and you were miserable for weeks."

"I must've made you miserable, too with my bitchiness. I don't know what I'd do without you. I truly don't. You're my soft place to land, Ned."

"Are you okay now?"

She nodded. "Yeah ... Thanks."

He kissed her forehead. She laid her face against his shoulder and ran her fingers along his chest. "What are your plans tonight?" he asked.

"I have a stack of quizzes to grade. Then -- a hot bath and to bed."

"Bring your quizzes over to my place."

"I have to be up early..."

"I have an alarm clock. After you grade your quizzes I'll make you a nice, hot bubble bath ... I'll scrub your back ... and, your front if you wish."

"A bubble bath? It's been years..."

"And, after that..."

"What after that?"

"I'll prove to you you're not frigid."

"I don't know why you'd want someone's sloppy seconds. I don't understand why you keep taking me back."

"I'm not. You never left." He kissed her lips.

"I'll be there at seven."

"Come at six and we can share a pizza."

"Deal. Do you want me to bring the black one?"

"Surprise me." He hugged her and looked up over her shoulder. A student was standing in the doorway. Ned didn't recognize her as one of his. "I think you have a customer."

Caitlin sniffed back her tears, wiped her eyes, adjusted her hair and spun around. Ned started buttoning his shirt. "Hello, Charlene," she said to the girl. "Were you looking for me?"

"Yes, Dr Frost," she replied. "I can come back later if this is a bad time."

"No, no ... It's why I'm here." Caitlin glanced at him, eyes wide and her hand over her mouth. Ned gave her a little wave as she escorted Charlene across the hall.

"Another piece?" Ned asked as he helped himself to a slice of pizza.

"I'm good."

"Say -- did your student say anything about what she witnessed this afternoon?"

"I don't know how much she saw. Whatever, she didn't bat an eye."