“Sorry to just come over,” he said, accepting my invitation. “I was at work, and your place is so close.”
Not wanting to bother with a car, it was easy to keep an apartment within walking distance of the university. Every morning gave me a chance to walk and clear my head, but I didn’t necessarily live here so that my friends could stop by unannounced.
For Warren, I’d make an exception.
“No problem,” I responded. “Do you want a beer?”
“I’d love one.”
“I just picked up some Guinness,” I called over my shoulder.
We passed through the quaint living room into the kitchen. Reaching into the gray cabinets, I found a pint glass for Warren and poured out part of a bottle. I knew him well enough to know that’s what he preferred.
He tried a sip and made a face. “Oh, that’s dense.”
“Right?” I laughed. “I’m just grading. Have a seat.”
“I really have an ulterior motive,” Warren admitted.
One of my six chairs scraped across the hardwood floors. Sitting at the end of the table, his face was unreadable. My worries told me what this was about, but I didn’t dare ask. Instead, I hid my confusion behind a sip of my drink.
“Okay. What’s up?”
“Millie.”
Yep. I knew it.
Laughing anxiously, I wondered, “Did you come all the way over here just to ask me about my research assistant?”
“It’s not that far from my train stop, and I figure this was better to ask in person instead of a phone call.”
Twinges of jealousy pained my chest. Like little pinpricks, I couldn’t ignore the emotion, but I could mask the feelings on my face.
“And what would that be?”
Warren leaned against the table. He took a sip from his glass and sighed.
“I was curious if she ever worked for English professors.”
“The last guy she worked for was an archeologist. I think she’s worked for a mathematician before. I don’t know if she’s ever worked for anyone doing English Lit.”
I tried to remember all the pieces of conversations I’d had with Millie and if she’d ever said anything about an English department.
“Is she good at her job?” he furthered.
Unable to deny her skills, I nodded. “She’s organized all of my files, and she’s taken some notes about what I might be interested in publishing. The university wants me to get together at least one article, potentially even two or three, that I can submit to peer-reviewed journals.”
“Publish or perish?”
“That’s right.”
“You don’t suppose that the university would be willing to split her time between the two of us?” my friend mused.
“I don’t really know,” I remarked casually. “It’s like how I don’t know why the hell you were at work on a Saturday.”
Warren cracked a sly smile. “Fine, you caught me. I just didn’t want to wait and ask about this until next week.”
“Are you wanting her number or email?”