“Is Christa blackmailing you? Is that why you approved her thesis

proposal?”

“Not exactly.”

“Spit it out, Gabriel.”

He turned away from her, looking out the window at the Toronto

skyline. “Christa Peterson has accused me of sexual harassment.”

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Chapter 19

Julia stared at Gabriel, wide-eyed. “What?”

“Christa filed a complaint with the sexual harassment officer,

who referred the file to Jeremy. That’s why I have to meet him this week.”

Shakily, Julia lowered herself to sit in the red velvet chair. “When did you find out?”

A muscle jumped in Gabriel’s angular jaw. “He called me a few

days ago.”

“A few days ago?” She clenched her teeth. “How long were you going to wait before you told me?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our trip to Belize. I was going to tell you when we got back. I swear.”

Julia glared at him angrily. “I thought we weren’t keeping secrets from each other.”

“It wasn’t a secret — I just wanted you to have a few days to relax before I gave you the bad news.” With a sigh, he turned to face her.

“Why would Christa accuse you of harassment? She’s been ha-

rassing you!”

“I don’t know the specifics of the allegations. I should have filed a complaint with the harassment officer, myself, but I didn’t want to draw unwanted attention.”

“What are we going to do?”

Gabriel stared determinedly into the fire. “I’m going to call my

lawyer, and we’re going to see that both of these accusations are dealt with. Swiftly.”

Julia stood up and clasped her hands around his waist, burying

her face in his sweater.

Sylvain Reynard

P

“What is it now, Emerson? I’m in bed with a hot young law clerk

from a competing firm.” John Green answered his cell phone amidst

the sounds of squealing and high-pitched giggles.

“Zip up your pants, John. This is going to take a while.”

The lawyer cursed before covering his cell phone with one hand.

“Don’t go anywhere, sugar.” He addressed his female pelvic affiliate before scuttling off in his red bikini briefs to the washroom.

“I’m already on top of your harassment complaint, Emerson. You

don’t need to pester me. I was about to have the best sex of my life.”

“I need to speak to you about something else.” Gabriel briefly

summarized the contents of the Dean’s letter to Julia.

“I can’t help your girlfriend.”

Gabriel began to sputter and protest, but John ignored him.

“Listen, if they’re dragging you in for sexual harassment and your twink — ahem — girlfriend in for some kind of academic infraction, I’ll bet my Porsche that the two complaints are connected. Have you told her not to mention you during her conversation with the Dean?”

Gabriel gritted his teeth. “No.”

“Well, you should. You don’t want to be drawn into anything

through her. You have enough to worry about.”

The Professor breathed in and out chillingly slowly.

“I’m not in the habit of cutting loose my friends, least of all

Julianne. Is that clear? Or do I need to find myself another lawyer?”

“Fine. But she needs her own attorney. If these two matters are

connected, it’s likely to raise a conflict of interest for me. And I think the university might become suspicious if I represented both of you.”

“Fine!” spat Gabriel. “Who do you recommend?”

John thought for a moment. “I’d recommend Soraya Harandi.

She works for one of the Bay Street firms, and she has represented faculty against the university in the past. We had a thing a couple of years ago and she hates my guts. But she’s good at what she does.”

He grunted into the phone, apparently reaching for his Black-

Berry. “I’ll text you her contact information. Ask your girlfriend to 152

Gabriel’s Rapture

call Soraya’s office and explain the situation to her secretary. I’m sure she’ll jump at the opportunity.”

“What’s the likelihood of either complaint resulting in — nega-

tive consequences?”

“I have no idea. It’s possible the university will conduct an investigation and dismiss both complaints. But don’t let her go in there without a lawyer, or this could turn around and bite both of you

in the ass.”

“Thanks, John.” Gabriel’s voice was laced with sarcasm.

“In the meantime, I’d like you to make a list of everything — and I mean everything — that is relevant to the harassment complaint. Any kind of evidence she might present, such as emails, texts, messages, and photographs. Send everything to me, and I’ll start looking at it.

And send me everything on your girlfriend too.

“I don’t like having to say, ‘I told you so,’ Gabriel. But I did. The university has a zero-tolerance policy with respect to fraternization, which means they can expel your girlfriend and fire you. Let’s hope the two complaints are not connected and that someone reported

her for failing to return her library books.”

“It’s always a pleasure to speak with you,” said Gabriel icily.

“If you didn’t think with your dick, you wouldn’t be speaking

with me. I just hope your girlfriend was worth it, because if the shit hits the fan, she’s going to turn out to be an extremely costly lay.”

Before John could say good-bye, Gabriel hurled the handset

against the wall, watching it smash into several large pieces and falling to the hardwood floor below. Then he took several deep breaths so he could convince Julia they should simply enjoy their vacation.

P

That same afternoon, Dean David Aras sat in his office on St.

George Street and looked at his telephone with surprise. Usual y,

his administrative assistant was much better at screening his cal s.

But Professor Katherine Picton was nothing if not persistent, and

she usually received whatever she wanted. In this case, that was a conversation with the Dean of Graduate Studies at the University

of Toronto.

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Sylvain Reynard

He lifted the handset and pressed the button. “Hello, Professor

Picton. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“There’s no pleasure at all, David. I demand to know why I re-

ceived a letter from your office requiring me to be interviewed at one of your Stalinist proceedings.”

David pressed his lips together in order to avoid biting back. She was famous, she was old, and she was a woman. He wasn’t about to

curse her out.

(Except in Lithuanian. Perhaps.)

“I need to ask you a few questions. It will take ten minutes, tops, and you’ll be on your way,” he replied smoothly.

“Nonsense. It takes me ten minutes to walk down the front steps

of my house in the winter. It will take forever to walk over to your office. I demand to know what I am being summoned to and why,

or I’m not coming. We can’t all spend our afternoons having assis-

tants screen our calls and make us coffee so we can dream up ways

of making other people’s lives miserable.”

The Dean cleared his throat.

“A complaint has been made against the graduate student you’re

supervising.”

“Miss Mitchell? What sort of complaint?”

In a very understated way, he explained the nature of the com-

plaint that he’d received.

“That’s outrageous! Have you even met her?”

“No.”

“This is a ridiculous complaint made against an innocent and

hardworking female student. And need I remind you, David, that this is not the first time that a successful female graduate student has been slagged in a university proceeding.”

“I am quite aware of that. But there are related matters that I am not at liberty to discuss with you. I wish to interview you about your dealings with Miss Mitchell. That’s all.”

“I am not going to lend any credence whatsoever to a witch hunt

that is targeting my graduate student.”

David frowned at her through the phone. “Without your testi-

mony, it’s quite possible a grave injustice might occur. You might be exactly what we need to clear Miss Mitchell’s name.”

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Gabriel’s Rapture

“Codswallop! It’s your responsibility to see that justice is served.

I’m surprised that you have taken the complaint seriously. Quite

surprised. And wipe that frown off your face, David. I can hear you sulking and I don’t appreciate it.”

The Dean suppressed a Lithuanian curse. “Professor Picton, are

you refusing to answer my questions?”

“Are you hard of hearing? Or has your quest for administrative

power made you intellectually lazy? I’ve said that I refuse to cooperate.

I don’t work for the university anymore. I am retired. Furthermore, I will be bringing this matter up over dinner tonight at the President’s house. I’m sure he and his guests will be most interested in how the administration of his own university is operating.

“And by the way, the dinner party is being given in honor of

Mary Asprey, the famous novelist. As an alumna, I know she takes

an avid interest in the affairs of her alma mater, particularly the more patriarchal machinations. I wonder what she’ll make of this?”

And with that, Professor Picton hung up.

P

When Gabriel and Julia finally arrived at the Turtle Inn resort

in Belize, it was late in the evening and the stars were already out.

Julia explored their accommodations — a private hut on a secluded

beach — while Gabriel ordered room service.

The walls of their hut were white, with the exception of a row of

tall, teak panels that accordioned to open out onto the covered porch.

The ceilings were a mixture of bamboo and thatch, and a large bed

was centered in the room, shrouded in mosquito netting. Julia was

particularly taken with the open air shower and bathtub that were

located on a side veranda.

While Gabriel wrestled with the kitchen staff over the telephone,

Julia quickly slipped out of her clothes and took a shower. The space was not completely closed, affording the bather a view of the ocean.

But since it was dark out and they were on a private beach, there was no possibility of being surprised by anyone, apart from one’s lover.

“Dinner will arrive in about an hour. I’m sorry it’s going to take so long.” Gabriel licked his lips as he took in the sight of Julia in her bathrobe.

155

Sylvain Reynard

In contrast, he’d changed into a white linen shirt that was mostly unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. He

wore khaki pants with the hems rolled up, exposing his bare feet.

(Parenthetically, it should be noted that even his feet were

attractive.)

“Would you like to take a walk with me on the beach?”

“I think I’d rather do something else.” She tugged him, smiling,

toward the bed, and gave him a gentle push so he was seated on its edge.

He caught her by the belt of her robe. “I’d be content just to

relax. It was a long trip.” His face showed that he was in earnest, which somewhat surprised her.

“I miss you.” Her voice dropped to a throaty whisper.

He pulled her so she was standing in between his knees and

slid his hands to rest on her backside. “We could nap before dinner.

There’s no rush.”

She rolled her eyes. “Gabriel, I want you to make love to me. If

you’re saying no, just tell me.”

He gave her a very wide, very delighted grin. “I’d never say no

to you, Miss Mitchell.”

“Good. Give me five minutes, Professor Emerson.”

He sank down on his back, his feet still on the floor. Julia’s newfound confidence was absolutely enticing. In a single sentence, she’d aroused him so much that he was already suffering.

It seemed like forever, but it was really only a few minutes later when Julia emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in his Christmas

gift. The black satin fabric accentuated the pink and cream of her skin, while the corset itself made her breasts look fuller and her waist smaller. Gabriel couldn’t help but admire the exquisite hourglass that was Julia’s now transformed figure.