Page 11 of The Scientist
I felt Dr. Abel go stiff standing next to me, while Benson stared at me with a puzzled expression.
“Who is Dr. Dre?” Benson asked. “Is he also a scientist? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him.”
I couldn’t believe my ears.
“Dr. Dre,” I said, staring in disbelief. And because I didn’t know when to shut my big mouth, I continued to ramble. “You know…” I said awkwardly. “‘The Chronic?’… ‘California Love?’… ‘Nothing but a G Thing?’”
Benson was looking at me like I’d grown two heads.
“I believe he’s a rapper, sir,” Dr. Abel said, looking like he wished he’d never brought me over here.
Wrong crowd, I guess. Although I could have sworn I saw Strovinski’s lip quirk ever so slightly.
Benson narrowed his eyes at me. “What is it you’re going to be teaching, Ms. Olivier?”
Shit. Should’ve flown under the radar.
“Music composition.”
“I can assure you, she is more than qualified for the position, sir,” Abel said, trying to save face for my little faux pas.
“I’m sure she is,” he responded doubtfully.
Dr. Abel planted a big smile on his face. “Actually, Hadley hails to us all the way from The Big Apple.”
Benson nodded slowly like he couldn’t have found this topic any less interesting.
“Great cheesecake,” I said, just throwing something at the wall of awkwardness and hoping it would stick. They all just stared at me, not saying a word.
“Dr. Strovinski, could I steal you for a moment for a few photos?” A man with a rather large camera had come up, saving me from the unpleasant encounter. I took that as a chance to escape, slipping out through the crowd and making my way back to our table, not bothering to wait for Dr. Abel.
I decided it was definitely time for me to be heading home before I embarrassed myself any further. I said my goodbyes to Sarah and Lionel and the rest of my new coworkers. As I was leaving, I dared another glance toward the photo-op area to see a pair of whiskey-colored eyes following me as I departed.
Chapter 4
“Marge, please!” I shouted, banging on the steering wheel. “No no no no no no! Not today!”
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was never late for anything, and now I was going to be showing up to work late on my very first day with the excuse of “car trouble.” This was going to look so bad. After the way faculty night had ended, I knew I was skating on razor-thin ice with the Creepmaster General. And now Marge decided to make things even worse for me. I was definitely getting fired.
I got out of the car and ran across the street to Professor Dunbar’s house, pounding on the door to see if he’d already left for work. He was my next-door neighbor who I’d met when the moving van finally showed up a couple of days after my arrival, and he’d graciously helped me move a few of my things in. He was a horticulturist who taught in the agriculture department of the university, and it showed. His small garden at the front of his home was absolutely stunning. I baked him a few of my homemade triple chocolate brownies as a thanks for helping me, and he offered to get my shrubbery looking just as good as his if I promised to bake more goodies for him. I had to concede another pro to California’s column—the people here were a lot friendlier. I don’t think my neighbors would stop to piss on me if I were on fire back in my old neighborhood.
When he didn’t answer, I was about to give up and call for a taxi when suddenly, I saw a familiar face coming out of the townhouse directly across from mine.
My mouth fell open. There was no way.
Dr. Alexsander Strovinski lived in the faculty housing units? I guess it kind of made sense. He wasn’t from this area, and I’m sure wasn’t trying to put down roots in Stanford.
I decided I was going to have to take advantage of this opportunity, even if my ego would have to take a hit.
“Dr. Strovinski!” I called out, rushing over to him. He turned and found the source of the disturbance. He looked so taken aback at the sight of me that I thought he probably didn’t remember who I was and just saw a crazy lady running toward him.
“Dr. Strovinski, hi! I’m Hadley Olivier. I don’t know if you remember me, but we met the other night at the faculty banquet,” I said, a little out of breath.
“I remember you,” he said succinctly.Great. Guess he was still mad about the whole shoulder tap thing that wasn’t even me!
“Well, I was hoping to ask for a favor. You see that car over there taking a cigarette break?” I pointed to poor Marge, who still had black smoke coming from her hood.
“That’s my car, and I really would hate to be late on my first day of work. Could I catch a ride with you? If that’s where you’re heading, of course.”