You Made Me Love You Page 22

  Amelia looked from Eli to Liza, and back again. “Excuse me?”

  Liza cleared her throat, painfully aware that her lips were still swollen from Eli’s kisses. “Grace Liontakis stayed in the dorm with Beth Watson last week. I know Anna talked to you about it, but we both wanted to thank you for making the exception.”

  Amelia looked positively dazed. Eli decided to take advantage of her disorientation. “Liza, since we couldn’t find those supplies I need here, what do you say we check the closet near the lab? Maybe they’re in there.” Liza blushed, and he adored her for it. Amelia, on the other hand, looked dangerously intrigued. Eli looped his fingers under Liza’s elbow and led her quickly away.

  They were barely out of earshot of Amelia when Liza started to laugh. “Did you see her face?”

  “It’s not nice to laugh,” he chastised her.

  “It’s your fault. You’re the one who—”

  She never had the chance to finish the sentence. Anna, her expression grim, interrupted their progress. “There you are. Liza, I’ve been trying to page you for the past hour.” She looked closely at Eli. “You weren’t answering.”

  “No,” Liza admitted with admirable sangfroid. “I wasn’t. What’s up?”

  Anna, Eli noted, looked weary. “I need to see both of you in my office. We have a—situation.”

  Eli scowled. “Does this have something to do with the Paschells?”

  “Not precisely. Come with me.”

  The three of them made the short trip down the hall to Anna’s office in silence. Liza gave Eli a concerned look, but said nothing, while Anna’s countenance remained inscrutable. She pushed open her door, and Bill Maxin, along with a handful of men and women Eli recognized as members of the Breeland’s board of visitors, waited inside. At their entrance, everyone stood. And Bill looked guilty.

  Liza’s eyebrows lifted as she entered the room. Anna waited for Eli to follow, then shut the door softly behind her. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “I thought this would best be settled in person.” She gave Bill a sharp look. “Bill, do you want to do the honors.”

  He flushed. “Now, Anna—”

  She held up her hand. “We’ve been through this. I think you all need to hear what Dr. Liontakis has to say on the matter before we go any further.”

  Eli looked at Bill. “What’s going on?”

  Bill cleared his throat. “Well, it’s like this. We’ve had a couple of disturbing reports lately. I understand your in-laws are suing for custody of your daughter.”

  “They are.”

  “And that they’re citing your, er, personal life as part of the reason.”

  “They are,” he said again, his voice sounding ominous.

  “There are some concerns on the board that this could reflect poorly on the school. If that happens, we might have—problems.”

  Eli muttered a soft curse. “What, exactly, have you been told?”

  A woman dressed in a blue silk suit—he remembered her name as Rose something or other—answered his question. “Is it true that you are being investigated for allegedly stealing another researcher’s work?”

  “No,” he said. “There is no investigation. There is a researcher named Jonathan Dally who made some claims to the press. I responded to those claims. The matter is closed.”

  “Word has it,” a blue-haired woman whose name he couldn’t recall chimed in, “that your Nobel prize nomination could be in jeopardy.”

  He took a calming breath. “If the allegations were true, then that would definitely be the case. But they aren’t true, and it’s not an issue.”

  Bill, who was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, extended a manila folder to Eli. “I think you’d better take a look at this.”

  Eli accepted the folder, flipped idly through the contents. Most were the assorted newspaper and journal clippings Martin had sent him. “I’ve seen these. Where did you get them?”

  “A friend of the school sent them,” Rose answered.

  Eli frowned. “Would that be a friend named Doris Paschell?”

  Rose sucked in a sharp breath “I don’t think it’s appropriate—”

  “Damn it,” he said, his voice harsh. “That woman is a—” he trailed off on a string of curses that had Anna giving him a satisfied look while her fellow board members paled.

  Liza laid a hand on his sleeve. “Eli, it’s okay.” She looked at the board. “Dr. Liontakis is currently having a legal battle with his former in-laws regarding the custody of his daughter. Because of complications regarding his relationship with his late wife, her parents believe the courts shouldn’t have awarded custody to him. He believes, as do I after having worked with Grace Liontakis and met her grandparents, that his daughter’s interests will be better served if she stays with him.”

  Anna nodded. “I agree.” She gave Bill a knowing look. “And so did you—until this morning, evidently.”

  “Now, Anna—”

  Anna shook her head. “I’d like to know what changed your mind, Bill.”

  He had the grace to wince. “I’m concerned about Breeland’s reputation, that’s all.”

  “You needn’t be,” Liza assured them. “Dr. Liontakis has the respect of his colleagues and other professionals in the field. This type of thing isn’t terribly uncommon in pharmaceutical and medical research. They know a sham when they see one, and it’s merely a matter of time before Jonathan Dally is silenced.”

  Rose scoffed. “How do you know what’s going to happen, Liza. We’re all over our heads here.”

  “I’ve met some of Eli’s contacts. I’ve spoken with them on this very matter, and I’m assured that the situation is well under control.”

  “But then,” Bill said quietly, “you’re not exactly objective on the subject, are you?”

  Liza’s quick intake of breath reverberated along Eli’s nerve endings. He turned a frigid glare on Bill. “That’s out of line.”

  “Someone has to say it,” Bill said. “I realize that in the broader world, Liontakis, this kind of thing is commonplace. But not at Breeland. Our faculty are expected to act as role models for the students. In every way.”

  “Oh, shut up, Bill,” Anna snapped. “You sound like a dinosaur.”

  He looked stung. “I don’t see how—”

  “Because,” Anna interjected, “were it not for that handy little packet of clippings, and the blistering lecture you received from Leonard Paschell today, you wouldn’t even be bringing that up. Eli and Liza are entitled to keep their personal lives private.”

  “Not,” said the blue-haired woman, “at the expense of Breeland.”

  “And the only expense involved here,” Anna said coldly, “is the proposed donation from Leonard Paschell.” She surveyed the members of the board with a condemning gaze. “Since when do we allow ourselves to be held hostage by a potential donor? If we give him what he wants now, what will he demand in the future?”

  “It’s a lot of money, Anna,” Rose said firmly.

  “Yes, it is. Money we didn’t even think we’d have before today, and money we don’t need if the price tag is Leonard Paschell’s control of school business.”

  Rose frowned at her. “I hardly think his request is unreasonable. You know I had concerns about bringing in a male faculty member from the beginning. Dr. Liontakis is only here on a trial basis. We agreed we’d see how he fit into the Breeland environment for this first six week session, and if all went well, then we’d extend an offer for the rest of the summer.”

  From the corner of his eye, Eli saw Liza shoot Anna a surprised look. Anna had informed him early in the process about the board’s reservations, so the revelation came as no surprise to him. Liza, evidently, didn’t know.

  Rose continued, “All Mr. Paschell is asking is that we don’t extend an invitation for Dr. Liontakis to continue on here if we feel it’s not in the best interest of the school. The information he provided was merely—”

  “A load of crap,” Liza
said angrily. “Damn it, Rose. Can’t you see what’s going on here. The Paschells are trying to harass Eli into giving them what they want. Once they get him and Grace back in New York, they have every intention of launching a media campaign designed to completely discredit his work and his reputation.”

  “I’d rather that didn’t happen,” Bill said, “while he was here at Breeland.”

  “It’s not going to,” Eli said. “I can assure you of that. The Paschells intend to exert an enormous amount of pressure, but Leonard’s career is dependent on his contacts in the field of medical research. He won’t support Jonathan Dally’s claims at the risk of ruining his own reputation.”

  “You can’t guarantee that,” the blue-haired woman told him. “Custody battles can turn messy.”

  “They can,” Liza agreed, “and we’ve been in the middle of our share of them.” One by one, she looked at the members of the board. “And for as long as I’ve been affiliated with this school, we’ve had two objectives: to help our students, and to create a family atmosphere among our faculty. I hope that’s not going to change.”

  No one answered. Liza looked at Anna. “If you’re through with us—”

  “We are,” Bill said. “I think we need to discuss—”

  “We’re through with the discussion, Bill,” Anna told him.

  “But—”

  “We’re through with it.”

  Rose interjected, “I think we need a vote.”

  Anna glanced around the room. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rose. We don’t begin to have enough facts to make a decision like that. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re still angry you lost on the issue of bringing Dr. Liontakis here in the first place, you wouldn’t even be considering this.”

  Rose’s gasp echoed in the tense room. “How dare you—”

  “And I’m not in the mood for your histrionics,” Anna bit out. “There’s no evidence here to suggest anything other than an informational discussion. Which we’ve had and I’ve closed.”

  “Well, I move that we vote,” Rose insisted.

  Anna looked around the room, studying each board member in turn. “I sincerely hope there’s no second to that motion.”

  Long seconds of silence ticked by. When no one spoke, Anna looked at Eli. “On behalf of the board, Eli, I want to apologize for this little scene.”

  “I understand,” he told her. He glanced at the other occupants of the room. “You have my personal guarantee that I will do whatever I can to protect Breeland’s reputation. This place has come to mean a lot to me, and to my daughter. She’s a different person than she was when she came here, and I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”

  Liza slid her hand into his—a show of unity, he knew—that cost her something. He squeezed it, then continued, “I give you my word that I’ll do whatever I can to prevent the publicity to spread to Breeland. I have a team of incredibly qualified professionals working on resolving the matter. I trust them implicitly.”

  “So do I,” Liza added. “And I trust Dr. Liontakis.”

  Bill looked at Eli through narrowed eyes. “Paschell’s serious,” he warned.

  “Not as serious as I am,” Eli assured him, then he led Liza from the room.

  She found him, late that evening, in the school’s lab, studying a pile of research notes and calculating a string of complex-looking equations. A sole lamp shone at his desk, casting long shadows across his face. There was a vacancy in his expression she hadn’t seen since she’d let herself into his apartment the Saturday night they’d stayed in New York. The other time he’d worn it had been the day after the Paschells had descended on Breeland. She was coming to recognize that expression as the armor behind which he protected his deepest wounds.

  With a slight frown, she softly whispered his name, “Eli—”

  His head shot up. He stared at her several seconds, then blinked. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.”

  “I thought you had a meeting.”

  “I skipped it.” She walked slowly toward him. “I talked to Anna. She said Grace is spending the evening with her.”

  “Yes. Something about a costume for her recital. I think Anna’s making it.”

  “Probably.” When she reached the work table, she laid a hand on his sleeve. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course. Why?”

  Because you’ve barely spoken to me since this afternoon. They’d gone straight from Anna’s office to the faculty meeting. Their conversation had consisted of her asking questions to which he gave terse, uncommunicative answers. At the meeting, he’d sat near the back of the room, his face the same expressionless mask he wore now. The moment she’d adjourned the meeting, he’d left without a word. She hadn’t heard from him for the rest of the day. He didn’t answer the phone at his apartment. “I tried to call you this evening. You didn’t answer.”

  “I was here,” he told her, turning his gaze back to the papers.

  “Are you working on something?”

  “Yes.”

  She reached for her patience. “Look, I know that confrontation in Anna’s office today was disturbing—”

  He continued to scratch equations on the paper. “Frustrating as hell is more like it. How do you stand these people?”

  She recognized the ploy to pick an argument with her, and refused to take the bait. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have predicted it would happen.”

  “You did,” he assured her without taking his eyes from the paper. “You told me that if you and I got involved, this is exactly what would happen.

  “I don’t recall telling you that you’d get flayed alive by Rose and her cronies.”

  His expression didn’t flicker. Liza drew a deep breath as she rubbed her hand on his shirt sleeve. “Eli, please tell me what’s bothering you.”

  He didn’t respond. So she waited. The clock on the wall ticked an audible rhythm. Without warning, he grabbed an empty beaker from the work table, turned and slammed it against the wall. The glass shattered and fell to the floor in a shimmering cascade.

  Liza, startled, jumped back. “You heard from your in-laws,” she guessed.

  He turned and wrapped his arms around her. “The bastards.”

  “Tell me what happened, Eli.”

  His hands moved restlessly over her back. “Evidently, while Leonard was placing his phone calls to the Breeland board of visitors, Doris was busy making calls of her own. She got one of the doctors who treated Grace to say that there’s a strong possibility that Grace’s anxiety over the accident is linked to the disassociation she feels from me. Doris is using that as psychological justification to demand a hearing.”

  Liza swore. Eli’s expression turned ravaged. “And she wants to challenge my paternity as well as my right to custody.”

  “Oh no.”

  He met her gaze, and she saw the pain deep in his amber eyes. “I’ve never questioned it, Liza. You know that.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know if I can prove it,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

  She hugged him close. “Maybe you won’t have to. If you don’t question it, why should the court?”

  “What judge is going to believe I can adequately provide for the emotional needs of my child when I can’t get her to talk to me about anything more personal than the weather?”

  “Don’t do this to yourself, Eli. It’s not true.”

  “Hell, she won’t tell me what happened the night of the accident. I had to hear from you that that bastard Paul LeMan didn’t touch her—because I couldn’t figure out how to ask her that myself. You had to tell me she’s afraid of living with her grandparents. You had to tell me she’s uncertain around me. You had to tell me what her dreams were—what her hopes are.” His voice sounded raw. “I’m supposedly smart enough to help find a cure for the plague of the millennium, but I can’t have a meaningful conversation with my own daughter. What does that say about me?”

  She threa
ded her fingers into his hair. “Listen to me. I know it’s easy to get impatient, but you are getting through to her. You said today that you’ve seen how much she’s changed just in the short time you’ve been here. She trusts you. It’s just a matter of time before she trusts you with everything.”

  “There are times when I think I hate Mara for what she did to her. She turned her against me.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s not fair to do that to a child.”

  “I know,” she said again.

  Eli lifted his head and met her gaze. “But you also know,” he said quietly, “that part of what she said was true. I can’t give Grace what she needs from me for the same reason I couldn’t give it to you.”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s not—”

  “It is true,” he insisted. That day you took me to see Joshua’s grave—I turned my back on you.”

  “You were busy.”

  The self-derision in his gaze nearly undid her. “I was a bastard, and you know it.”

  She couldn’t answer him, so she stared. He slid his hands down her back and molded her more closely to him. “I don’t think I realized it before, but I do that when I don’t want to feel things. I bury myself in something safe—” With a nod of his head, he indicated the notes on his desk. “Something predictable, and I shut everything else out.”

  “Everyone has a different way of dealing with grief. It’s not—”

  “Please, don’t make excuses for me. I don’t think I could stand that.”

  “You didn’t let me down, Eli,” she told him.

  “But I didn’t support you either.” She couldn’t deny that. He nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

  “So you learn. And you grow. That’s how life works.”

  “But this time, with Grace, I learned too late. She couldn’t count on me when her mother was alive, and she can’t count on me now. And she knows it.”

  “No.” Liza shook her head. “It’s not true.”

  “Then how do you explain it? How do you explain the fact that my daughter has been living with me for almost a year, and until we came here, where she has you and Anna and her friends, she was living in a emotional closet?”