“Of
course not.”
“Then why do you have machines and minions?”
Evan glanced at Hert. “They’re cheaper than cats
and dogs.”
Angela crossed her arms. The other girls were
paying attention now, cherubic faces peeking out of their blanket
fort. “You make people agree with you.”
“Obviously not,” he growled, “or we wouldn’t be
having this argument.”
“You’re a super villain.”
“Would your mother marry a super villain?
She’s a super hero. Everyone knows super heroes don’t marry
villains. There are rules.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You tricked her! That’s
why she left us! You tricked her!”
“What? No! Sweetie, no.” Evan scooped her up in
a hug as guilt twisted in his gut like a knife. “No, Angela, no.
Mommy knew I was a bad guy. I gave that up so I could be with her.
I didn’t trick her. I love her.”
“But you are a villain,” Angela said.
“Only as a hobby.” He patted her back and rocked
side to side like she was still three months old and easily calmed.
He glanced at the paper Hert had pushed at him. “Girls? How would
you like to go to Colorado?”
Chapter Eleven
Pick up and leave home? Home is where
the heart is. Tabitha is the soul and center of my world. I could
no more willingly live apart from her than I could will myself to
quit breathing.
***
Evan watched from the foyer of the university
biology building as students walked through the pine-studded
campus. Tabitha stepped out of the library wearing jeans and a
conservative T-shirt. His breath caught. She looked amazing. His
heart raced as he waited for her to turn and smile. He needed that
smile more than anything in the world.
“Mister Fascino?” The dean of the biology
department opened his office door.
Evan tucked the cuff of his Dior suit
shirtsleeve over the miniaturized Agree-With-Me Ray then turned
with a smile. “Dean Lang, it’s so good of you to see me at such
short notice.”
The giant of a man laughed heartily. “Trust me
when I say, Mister Fascino, that I would rather speak with
prospective teachers than the prospectus committee again. Drink?”
he offered, motioning to a decanter of amber liquid sitting on a
low side table near oversized windows.
“No, thank you.” Evan took a seat and smiled at
the dean. “I’ve found it’s dangerous to accept unknown liquids from
the biology department. Biologists have such a quirky sense of
humor.”
Dean Lang laughed. “We have more petri dishes
filled with strawberry Jell-O on April Fools’ Day than real
specimens. That’s eighteen-year-old Glenlivet whiskey, if you’re
interested. A gift from the family when I took the job.” He settled
his comfortable bulk into a dark leather chair. “So, you’re
interested in teaching here?”
“Yes, sir,” Evan said, stepping away from mental
calculations of how much the dean had spent on office furniture.
“Professor Buckley mentioned there was an opening as an ethics
lecturer. I’ve wanted an excuse to move to the area, so I thought
I’d apply.”
All of that was true. Since finding out that
Tabitha had enrolled as a mid-semester transfer last week under the
name Zinnia Perl, he was more than a little interested in moving to
the foothills. Finding the aging Professor Buckley and persuading
him to take an early retirement had taken all of ten minutes, in
which time the professor had mentioned someone would need to fill
his post as the ethics teacher—a class Tabitha took four days a
week.
“And, have you ever taught ethics?” the dean
asked.
“Not as such, sir. I hold dual degrees in
genetics and mechanical engineering. I’m very familiar with the
ethical quandaries of science. I’ve attended a number of ethics
classes and symposiums.” Mostly true. He’d tested out of a number
of ethics classes, which was practically the same thing.
Evan adjusted the mini Agree-With-Me Ray clipped
to his watch. “Why don’t I start today?”
The dean blinked at him with an
course not.”
“Then why do you have machines and minions?”
Evan glanced at Hert. “They’re cheaper than cats
and dogs.”
Angela crossed her arms. The other girls were
paying attention now, cherubic faces peeking out of their blanket
fort. “You make people agree with you.”
“Obviously not,” he growled, “or we wouldn’t be
having this argument.”
“You’re a super villain.”
“Would your mother marry a super villain?
She’s a super hero. Everyone knows super heroes don’t marry
villains. There are rules.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You tricked her! That’s
why she left us! You tricked her!”
“What? No! Sweetie, no.” Evan scooped her up in
a hug as guilt twisted in his gut like a knife. “No, Angela, no.
Mommy knew I was a bad guy. I gave that up so I could be with her.
I didn’t trick her. I love her.”
“But you are a villain,” Angela said.
“Only as a hobby.” He patted her back and rocked
side to side like she was still three months old and easily calmed.
He glanced at the paper Hert had pushed at him. “Girls? How would
you like to go to Colorado?”
Chapter Eleven
Pick up and leave home? Home is where
the heart is. Tabitha is the soul and center of my world. I could
no more willingly live apart from her than I could will myself to
quit breathing.
***
Evan watched from the foyer of the university
biology building as students walked through the pine-studded
campus. Tabitha stepped out of the library wearing jeans and a
conservative T-shirt. His breath caught. She looked amazing. His
heart raced as he waited for her to turn and smile. He needed that
smile more than anything in the world.
“Mister Fascino?” The dean of the biology
department opened his office door.
Evan tucked the cuff of his Dior suit
shirtsleeve over the miniaturized Agree-With-Me Ray then turned
with a smile. “Dean Lang, it’s so good of you to see me at such
short notice.”
The giant of a man laughed heartily. “Trust me
when I say, Mister Fascino, that I would rather speak with
prospective teachers than the prospectus committee again. Drink?”
he offered, motioning to a decanter of amber liquid sitting on a
low side table near oversized windows.
“No, thank you.” Evan took a seat and smiled at
the dean. “I’ve found it’s dangerous to accept unknown liquids from
the biology department. Biologists have such a quirky sense of
humor.”
Dean Lang laughed. “We have more petri dishes
filled with strawberry Jell-O on April Fools’ Day than real
specimens. That’s eighteen-year-old Glenlivet whiskey, if you’re
interested. A gift from the family when I took the job.” He settled
his comfortable bulk into a dark leather chair. “So, you’re
interested in teaching here?”
“Yes, sir,” Evan said, stepping away from mental
calculations of how much the dean had spent on office furniture.
“Professor Buckley mentioned there was an opening as an ethics
lecturer. I’ve wanted an excuse to move to the area, so I thought
I’d apply.”
All of that was true. Since finding out that
Tabitha had enrolled as a mid-semester transfer last week under the
name Zinnia Perl, he was more than a little interested in moving to
the foothills. Finding the aging Professor Buckley and persuading
him to take an early retirement had taken all of ten minutes, in
which time the professor had mentioned someone would need to fill
his post as the ethics teacher—a class Tabitha took four days a
week.
“And, have you ever taught ethics?” the dean
asked.
“Not as such, sir. I hold dual degrees in
genetics and mechanical engineering. I’m very familiar with the
ethical quandaries of science. I’ve attended a number of ethics
classes and symposiums.” Mostly true. He’d tested out of a number
of ethics classes, which was practically the same thing.
Evan adjusted the mini Agree-With-Me Ray clipped
to his watch. “Why don’t I start today?”
The dean blinked at him with an
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