I walk past him into the office. He closes the door and clears his throat as he makes his way to his desk. “Since there is no easy way to begin this conversation, I’m just going to jump right in.” He sits behind an old wooden desk piled high with papers. He shifts his work to the side, folds his hands together, and looks at me sitting across from him. “Miss Lamore, someone has brought to our attention that you may be in an inappropriate relationship with your internship supervisor. Is this true?”
My voice catches in my throat, “No,” I clear my throat and say it again, louder. “No, it’s not true. Whoever told you that was misinformed.”
The dean‘s shoulders don’t slump with relief when I say it. “Anna, we know you’re an adult and can make your own choices when it comes to dating, however, when coupled with academia—”
I cut him off. “Nothing happened.” My hands are clutching the arms on the chair so hard that my knuckles are turning white. I don’t let go. This has me so angry that I can’t stand it. “Cole Stevens has been an excellent supervisor. My internship is going well, which is why I can’t understand who would say this.”
“You haven’t been sleeping with him?” He asks me pointe blank.
I don’t think he means it literally, so I shake my head, “No. We do not have a sexual relationship. This is ridiculous! Graduation is too close for me to start over. You have to believe me.” I’m pleading with him. It hurt that Cole rejected me, but this makes it even worse.
“I’d like to, Anna, but the person who brought this matter to our attention has proof that you did stay at Mr. Steven’s residence on multiple occasions.”
My skin prickles as I realize what it means—someone has been following me. All those times I felt like someone was watching me, I thought I was insane, but now I’m angry.
“So, let me get this straight, Dr. Grillo. Someone provided you with proof that we were having sex. Is that what you’re saying?” I’m at the edge of my seat, ready to bounce out of it. Fury is fuming silently inside of me, threatening to explode. This is so wrong.
“Please Anna, calm down. It’s enough to have your internship pulled and have Mr. Stevens reprimanded. We cannot allow even the appearance of indiscretion when it comes to academics. You know this, Anna. Do you want people questioning your grades? Do you want them to say your class rank had nothing to do with your mind? They will -- especially with regards to you. You’re at the top of your class. I’m sorry Anna, but we can’t let this slide. You’ll have to find another internship and start over in the fall.”
“But that means I won’t graduate until December.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “There is nothing I can do about that. The internship is a requirement for graduation.”
“If I get another internship and complete the requirements in the next three weeks, can I still walk in August?” I don’t breathe. I didn’t want it to come to this, but this is what it came to.
The dean leans back in his hair and looks at me like he feels sorry for me. “If you can complete the requirements, then yes.”
I nod slowly. I don’t know what to say. It hurts that my words don’t matter, that the appearance of a relationship was enough to damn me. A question crosses my mind, “Have you spoken to Mr. Stevens yet?”
Dr. Grillo nods, “Yes. He knows the repercussions for such an accusation.” I wait for him to explain, to tell me more, but he doesn’t. Instead he stands and says, “Go to the registrar’s office, get new forms, and if you manage to talk someone into an internship now, file the papers directly with me.”
CHAPTER 5
Emma isn’t home yet. I move around the tiny apartment, wandering like I’m lost. I don’t know what to do. Jesse was right. My internship with Cole is void and I have to start over. Nerves choke me, but I have to do it—there are no other options.
Dialing her number, I wait for Sophia to pick up. “Sottero Studios,” she says, even though she has caller ID and knows exactly who it is.
“Ms. Sottero, this is Anna Lamore. We met earlier this summer at an internship interview.”
“Yes, Anna. How can I help you?” Although that’s what she said, her voice sounds clipped, like she doesn’t want to waste more time on me.
“I need an internship. I’m willing to work every waking moment for the rest of the month.”
She sighs. “What happened? Did Cole fire you? I told you to avoid that man, but you didn’t listen. Why should I take you now?”
That is a good question. “You shouldn’t,” I say. “I should have listened to you. I’m sorry to have bothered you. You’ve been more than kind. Thank you for your time—” I feel dejected and embarrassed.
She cuts me off, “Oh, don’t be so melodramatic, Anna. It’s not the end of the world, it’s an internship. Come to my office tomorrow morning. Bring the papers. We’ll get you started. How many hours do you need to log before the end of August?”