Love Can Be Murder

office. How many times had they worked here, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee? "Yes, I received your message about the award, and while I'm flattered, I'll pass. That's why I didn't call you back."
    "I understand."
    "And no, I'm not married."
    He smiled. "I never married, either."
    She was certain her pleasure showed all over her face. "And I'm not sure how long we'll be here. We're staying at Dr. Oney's."
    "Oh. I was hoping..." Then he shook his head. "Never mind. I guess that means you're still working with the women's advocacy program that Nell coordinated?"
    She nodded. "Full-time. More or less."
    He steepled his hands and struck a solemn pose. "I'm so proud of what you've done with your life—the youth of today just don't seem as interested in social responsibility."
    She hooked her hands around her knee, compelled to move past polite platitudes. "I wish I could say I entered the program with pure intentions, but looking back, I think I was only killing time until I heard from you."
    He did have the good grace to squirm before offering up a remorseful noise from his throat. "The board's inquiry came at an unfortunate time."
    She nodded slowly. "I wonder how they knew about us."
    He shrugged. "Someone must have told them, although it didn't seem important at the time to ask who—the damage was done. I assumed you had shared our relationship with another student."
    Roxann bristled. "I didn't."
    He didn't believe her, she could tell. "Well, it's neither here nor there."
    An awkward silence fell, which Roxann stubbornly refused to break. She waited, for what she wasn't sure—perhaps a bended-knee apology for not having defended their nonsexual relationship?
    "So...you're happy?" he inquired.
    She nodded. "I haven't regretted the path my life has taken."
    "I'm glad."
    Roxann surveyed the numerous awards on his wall, including a shelf of soccer trophies. It struck her as a bit juvenile for anyone other than a ten-year-old or a professional athlete to display his trophies, but she wondered how much of her resentment came from the glaring proof that his life had gone on, seemingly un-fazed, after she left. "I see you've been successful."
    He smiled. "Thank you."
    They spoke at the same time.
    "I saw—"
    "—your photo—"
    "—in the alumni—"
    "—newsletter."
    They both laughed.
    "You've been on my mind ever since," he said. "I kept wondering where you were, what you were doing, how your life had turned out. When your name came up for the award, it gave me a chance to look you up."
    "Who nominated me?"
    His grin was sheepish. "I did. And Nell agreed wholeheartedly."
    "So why didn't you look me up before?"
    He gestured vaguely, seeming flustered. "I didn't think you'd want to hear from me."
    "I didn't, for a while."
    "And now?"
    Good question. She was still drawn to him, no doubt, like a crippled moth to a flame. But could she ever forgive him for the furrow he'd plowed through her heart? "I'm not a naive coed anymore, Carl." Her voice sounded stronger than she felt—at least the coed part was true.
    He left his chair to stand in front of her. "I can see that." He reached for her hands and pulled her up against him. His body was lean and firm, proof that he still followed a strict vegetarian diet and exercise regime. She remembered his penchant for nice cologne as she inhaled a complex aroma. He held her loosely and lowered his mouth to hers for a gentle, exploratory kiss.
    Very...nice. Had his kisses always been so sweet? He really needed to change that flickering light bulb overhead. And when was the last time the crown moldings had been dusted?
    A rap on the door sent them flying apart—that part came back to her pretty easily. Along with the guilty flush.
    A beaming young redhead stood with her hand on the doorknob. "Dr. Seger—oh, I'm sorry." Her smile vanished, which did little to diminish her beauty. "I didn't realize you had a...visitor."
    "Kelly," he boomed with a little laugh. "Do you have those papers you need for me to sign?"
    "Yes," she said, staring at Roxann. "But I can bring them back later."
    "I think that would be best," he said. "I'll see you in class."
    "Okay. Bye."
    When the door closed, he turned an apologetic smile in her direction. "I should know better than to leave the door unlocked—students just barge in whenever they please."
    Roxann pressed her just-kissed lips together, thinking that any woman in Carl's life would have to learn to share him with the student body—professors