her beloved. Her hands immediately slid from his shoulders to his

hips, and she pulled at his lower back to encourage him forward.

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It was a cacophony of unembarrassed sounds and noises, made far

more animalistic by its lack of language and of course, the rhythmic bumping of Julia’s back against the heavy wooden door.

Their coupling was loud and fast, perhaps the most intense physi-

cal connection they’d ever had, topping even their sex against the wall in Florence. Soon they were exploding jointly into bliss, hearts racing and blood pumping, clutching one another and crying out.

Then finally, finally, they collapsed into a tangle of flesh and limb in limpid satisfaction on Julia’s narrow bed.

Gabriel was on top of her, but she would not let him move. He

shifted slightly to distribute his weight to the mattress, but he too was unwilling to break the contact of skin against skin.

She petted his hair and told him how much she loved him as he

buried his nose in the hollow of her throat, inhaling her scent. She told him that he didn’t need to drink, that he could talk to her, instead.

Gabriel sighed against her neck. “I am talking to you,” he

whispered, pressing insistent kisses across her shoulder. “You aren’t listening.”

Before Julia could argue, he began exploring her mouth. Further

discussion was silenced as he enticed her to join with his body once more.

When she awoke the next morning the apartment was quiet. In

fact, there was no sign of her evening visitor apart from an unlocked window and the scent of Gabriel and sex that clung to her body and the bed.

She searched the studio expecting a note, a message, something.

But there was nothing, not even an email. A creeping sense of dread spread over her.

P

Julia wore her hair long the next morning, fol owing Soraya’s

instructions, for it made her look sweet and innocent. At eleven o’

clock sharp she met her lawyer in the hallway outside the boardroom.

Gabriel and John were already there, huddled next to the wall and

talking in low, hurried tones. They were both dressed in dark suits 206

Gabriel’s Rapture

and white shirts. But the similarity ended there. Gabriel wore a bow tie. The green of his tie contrasted sharply with the blue of his eyes.

He made eye contact with her briefly, enough for her to notice

that he looked worried. He didn’t smile or beckon to her. He seemed content to keep his distance.

She wanted to go to him, but Soraya pulled her to sit on a low

bench just outside the door. Suddenly, the door swung open and a

large, angry looking rugby player strode into the hallway.

“Paul?” Julia stood up.

He stopped, surprised.

“Julia? Are you all right? Tell me it isn’t — ”

Mid-sentence and mid-stride Paul stopped as he saw the face

of Soraya, who was now standing behind her. He stared at the two

women, eyes wide and questioning at first, then narrowing. Mutter-

ing curses, he scowled and strode past both of them.

“Paul?” Julia called to him, but he disappeared down the stairs.

“Do you know him?” asked Soraya.

“He’s a friend.”

“Really?” Soraya seemed incredulous.

Julia turned to face her. “Why? Do you know him?”

“He filed a complaint last year against one of my clients. That’s

when I made an enemy of the Dean.”

It took a moment for the import of Soraya’s revelation to sink

into Julia’s brain. But when it did, she sat down slowly.

Soraya was Professor Singer’s attorney? What have I gotten myself into?

Her answer to that question was interrupted by the Dean’s as-

sistant, Meagan, who announced that the hearing officers would

prefer to interview Miss Mitchell and Professor Emerson, together.

After a quick consultation with their lawyers, Gabriel and Julia

entered the boardroom, followed by John and Soraya. As soon as they arranged themselves on opposite sides of the aisle, Dr. Aras spoke.

As was his practice, he introduced himself and the other members

of the committee, Professors Tara Chakravartty and Robert Mwangi.

“Dr. Tara Chakravartty, Vice-President of Diversity.” Professor

Chakravartty was a beautiful and petite woman of Indian descent,

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Sylvain Reynard

with dark eyes and long, straight black hair. She was dressed in a black suit with a large persimmon-colored scarf swathed like a sari around her torso. She too, smiled at Julia, in between withering glances and the occasional scowl in David’s direction.

“Dr. Robert Mwangi, Vice-President of Student Affairs.” Professor

Mwangi was a Kenyan Canadian who wore wire-rimmed spectacles

and a button down shirt with no jacket and no tie. He was the most casually dressed of the four of them and the most obviously friendly.

He smiled at Julia, and she smiled back.

The Dean proceeded with his opening remarks.

“Miss Mitchell, Professor Emerson, you have been notified by

letter as to why your presence was required. Pursuant to our investigation of the allegation of academic misconduct against you, Miss Mitchell, we have talked to Professor Picton, Miss Peterson, Mrs.

Jenkins, Professor Jeremy Martin, and Mr. Paul Norris.

“During the course of our investigation, several facts emerged,

facts that have been corroborated by more than one witness.” The

Dean stared at Gabriel, pursing his lips. “For this reason, the Provost’s office ordered this committee be formed to investigate matters further.

“The facts that have come to light so far are as follows: first, that a public argument with possible personal overtones took place between Miss Mitchell and Professor Emerson during his graduate seminar

on or about October twenty-eighth, two thousand and nine.

“Second, that on or about October thirty-first, Professor Picton

agreed to supervise Miss Mitchell’s MA thesis at the urging of Professor Emerson, who later notified Professor Martin about the change.

Professor Emerson claimed that the switch was necessary due to a

conflict of interest, namely, that Miss Mitchell was a friend of his family. Paperwork was filed in the School of Graduate Studies in November to effect this change.

“Third, on December tenth, Professor Emerson gave a public lec-

ture in Florence, Italy, to which he was accompanied by Miss Mitchell.

Over the course of the evening, he introduced Miss Mitchell as his fiancée. These facts are substantiated in print and in photographs, and they have also been corroborated by a Professor Pacciani who

was present at the event.” The Dean held up a piece of paper that

appeared to be a hard copy of an email.

Gabriel glared darkly at the mention of Pacciani, mumbling an

expletive under his breath.

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The Dean fixed his gaze on Gabriel. “Did Miss Mitchell harass

you into participating in an amorous relationship with her?”

Julia nearly fell off her chair.

All eyes in the room focused on Gabriel, whose color deepened.

His lawyer began whispering furiously in his ear but Gabriel waved him aside.

“Absolutely not.”

“Very well. Are you currently engaged in an amorous relationship

with Miss Mitchell?”

“Dr. Aras, you’ve offered no evidence of any policy infractions here.

All you’ve offered is a sketchy timeline that is open to interpretation and tabloid journalism from Italy. I wil not al ow you to railroad my client,” John complained.

“If your client has nothing to hide, then he should answer our

questions. When did the relationship between you, Professor Emerson, and your student begin?”

Before John could open his mouth to protest, Professor Chakra-

vartty interrupted. “I object to this line of questioning on the grounds that relationships between professors and students in the same department cannot be consensual. And I’d like my objection minuted.”

The Dean nodded at his assistant, Meagan, who was typing notes

furiously on her laptop. “Duly noted,” he huffed. “We’ll discuss that issue shortly. Professor Emerson?”

“With respect, Dr. Aras, my client is not obligated to respond

to supposition and speculation. Perhaps Miss Mitchell might take

a different view.” John cast a snide look at Soraya, then smiled innocently at the hearing officers.

“Very well. Miss Mitchell?”

Soraya glared at John before turning to face the committee.

“My client has already been subjected to a harassing experience

by the Dean’s office when she was forced to defend herself against a serious but entirely malicious complaint by another student. In view of the stress and emotional trauma that has already been inflicted on her, I ask you to direct your questions to Professor Emerson. He instigated the transfer of my client’s thesis supervision to Professor Picton, it’s his signature on the forms, and we have nothing to say on the matter.”

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Julia leaned over to protest in Soraya’s ear, but Soraya waved

her off.

Julia gritted her teeth.

“Ah. A classic prisoner’s dilemma emerges. I wonder if either of

you realize the outcome you are headed toward if you continue in