Be professional. Be professional. Be prof—fuck it. It’s not like things can get worse.
I interrupted him. “That’s what I said, Davis.” My voice was clear, loud, and confident. I clutched my fists under the table and willed my voice to remain steady. Though, my confidence hedged when no one nodded in agreement or said a word. Instead they all stared at me, all but one person.
“Excuse me?” Davis’s cocky smile faltered, a crack appearing in his Master of the Universe mask.
Deep breath. “You demeaned my lack of experience and then repeated my point.” I glanced around at everyone. Had no one else noticed he’d been doing this all day? Faces around the table were frozen, and Jake finally looked at me with a steely expression.
Davis’s eyes narrowed, then he chuckled again. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Naya. I was simply contributing to what Drs. Smith, Bradley, and Carmichael were saying.” He smiled at the man to his right and added, “So sensitive!”
I unclenched my fists—I didn’t need to fake my confidence anymore. The anger at his condescending tone was a prod pushing me forward. I wasn’t scared; I was pissed.
“Surely you can think of a few original things to say. Stop rephrasing my ideas and claiming them as your own.”
Davis’s face reddened, and his eyes narrowed slightly.
President Lewis interrupted. “Let’s break for now. Dinner will be down by the lake.” He turned. “Dr. Turner, a word in the kitchen?” Everyone else made their way to the front door to head to the picnic area by the lake. Davis’s eyes were trained on me, but he followed the crowd toward the door, all of them avoiding looking at me. Jill made eye contact briefly, but the cold and distant expression from earlier remained.
Stand up for myself. Check. But not one of my best decisions.
Jake didn’t look up from his notes, but I thought I saw a muscle in his jaw tic, and the hand resting on the table was in a tight fist.
Davis’s glare made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I guess it got worse.
* * *
President Lewis plucked a coffee mug from a cupboard.
Most people had filtered out of the building toward the lake, and the muffled voices faded.
I’m going to get fired.
He held out the pot before filling his mug, but I waved it away. “So,” he said, leaning against the counter. “We haven’t had a chance yet to meet one-on-one since you took over for Joe.” His voice and posture were light and friendly, casual even, as he sipped the black coffee. “Thank you for doing that, by the way. He has a lot of faith in you.”
I made a big mistake. I’d hoped to raise a rallying cry for the women around the room to stand up and be heard, but then no one rallied. I’d made a fool of myself in front of the president of the university. The same president who knew I’d slept with his highly paid consultant.
“Thank you,” I answered. “President Lewis, I’m—”
“Please, call me Flip.” He smiled, taking another sip from his cup.
“Flip, I should apolog—”
He stopped me again, interrupting with such grace I couldn’t take offense. “Do you know how I got that name? When your real first name is Archibald, it doesn’t seem you’d need a nickname, right?” He chuckled to himself. “Archibald came from my dad losing a bet with an old army buddy. My mom was fit to be tied, but there it was.”
I nodded, brow creased. Where is he going with this?
“But ‘Flip’？ All my doing. When I was in college, I wanted to impress a young woman. I thought doing a backflip off the porch of my fraternity house would be the way to get her attention.” He smiled, wistfully. “Those ideas sound so logical when we’re young, don’t they?”
I tilted my head and smiled politely.
“Needless to say, it didn’t go well. I broke my arm in two places, and the first guy to get to me, some guy just walking by, called me ‘Flip.’” He chuckled and ran his hand over his left arm. “Hurt like a sonofabitch, I’ll tell you. But the nickname stuck.”
“That’s a . . . good story,” I said, unsure of the proper response.
“It is.” He laughed.
I stepped away from the counter—standing straight was better for an apology. “But, President, er, Flip, I need to apologize for what happened in there.”
“Do you know what else is interesting about that story, Naya?”
Is he not noticing me speaking? “What, sir?”