Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
When my grad school application to join the Raintree Arctic Expedition gets unexpectedly denied, I know exactly who to blame. Professor River Henry has always had it out for me. For some reason, he holds me to a higher standard than everyone else in the evolutionary biology department which means he probably failed to recommend me for the research expedition and he’s most likely going to give my final exam a big, fat F.
All I want to do is drown my sorrows in some platonic cuddles and pretend I haven’t hit rock bottom before my scientific career has even had a chance to get off the ground.
But when Professor Henry is the one standing on the other side of the hotel room door in response to my add for comfort, I suddenly realize with breath-stealing horror, just how far I have left to fall.
Professor Platonic first appeared in the Nightingale Charity Anthology.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
ONE
JACK
I stared at my email while the blood drained from my face to my toes.
To: Jack Wilde
We regret to inform you your application for participation on the Raintree Arctic Ecology and Evolution research expedition was not successful.
There was more to it than that. Probably. Bullshit explanations about how many qualified candidates had applied and how tough the competition had been. How hard it was selecting only one recipient for the honor.
And I understood it all. Of course I did. Graduate students from around the world had applied to go on the groundbreaking expedition. They couldn’t take everyone.
But I was devastated. Not getting the research fellowship meant having to go home to Dallas and listen to my mother complain about my “denial of real-life responsibilities” and my father ask me yet again when I was going to “stop fussing with that environmental nonsense and get a real job.”
“You look like you’re gonna hurl, dude,” my cousin Hallie said before popping a potato chip in her mouth. She was visiting Houston for the weekend to see a friend’s art show and had stopped by my apartment to drop off a suit my mom had bought me. An interview suit. “What’s up?”
“I didn’t get a spot on the research expedition this summer,” I said, feeling numb. “Everyone I talked to said they thought I was already considered part of the team. My application was supposed to be a formality.”
She settled into the hand-me-down sofa my roommate had left behind when he’d moved out. If I didn’t find another roommate soon, I was going to have to give up the lease and find a cheaper room to rent next semester. It was either that or ask my parents for help, which would occur precisely when hell froze over.
“What do you think happened?” Hallie asked. “I thought you were already working with the people leading the expedition?”
“I was. I am.” Not only had I helped craft the grant proposal that was funding the expedition, but I’d also helped originate some of the research planned for the expedition. I was one of Dr. Raintree’s favorite grad students.
It didn’t make any sense.
The only person who hadn’t seemed all that convinced had been my evolutionary biology professor.
My stomach dropped. Professor Henry. The only person in my academic community who still treated me with cold indifference had been responsible for one of the two most important recommendations on my application.
If I hadn’t been chosen for the expedition, it had to have been something Professor Henry wrote.
My fingernails bit into my palms. “That fucking bastard,” I hissed under my breath.
Hallie’s eyes widened. “Who?”
“My evolutionary biology professor. He was supposed to write me a recommendation for the program, but the man hates me. He won’t even make eye contact with me and acts like every time I ask him a question, I’m wasting his time. I’m sure this is on him.”
“Why would he hate you? You’re smart as hell and the hardest worker in the whole family.”
I loved my cousin’s loyalty. She was a fierce defender of the people she loved. I shot her a smile. “Thanks, Hallie. But it doesn’t matter. It’s done. I can’t argue with their decision without doing further damage to my reputation. And these are the researchers and professors who can hopefully help me get a job after I finish my degree, not to mention some of them will be on my thesis committee. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I just…” I sighed.
I was so fucking tired. I’d worked my ass off lately, holding down a full-time job as a lab technician while also pursuing a graduate degree. Because Barrington University wasn’t cheap, I’d worked hard to try and get my degree completed as quickly as I could so I would rack up the least amount of debt possible.
In case my parents were right and I couldn’t make a go of this as a career.
I shrugged. “I was already feeling sorry for myself after taking my evolutionary biology final this morning. Even though I thought I did well, the professor’s probably going to screw me on the grade.”
“Okay,” Hallie said, rolling the chip bag closed with a loud crinkle and sitting up. “You know what you need? Hug therapy.”
My family was a little strange.
“You sound like your hippie sister-in-law,” I muttered. One of my Wilde cousins had married a woman named Nectarine who did yoga and believed in all kinds of woo-woo shit.
“I read an article about this last week, and I’m dying for someone to try it. Remember when you and I were at Doc and Grandpa’s anniversary trip and everyone was all, ‘Oh, gee, look at my soul mate who wants to sex me up and then spoon me adorably all night,’ and you and I were like, ‘Ew, how about just the spoon part?’”