“Are you free to talk?” she asked.

“Of course! I’m glad to see you.”

She walked in and closed the door behind her. He debated whether he should ask her to open the door again. After that complaint, he thought it wiser to never again confer with a student—female or male—with the door closed. But he hadn’t seen Taryn since she’d bolted out of the restaurant at the MFA, and judging by her haggard face, she was in need of counseling. He let the door stay shut.

“I’ve been worried about you,” he said as she sat down across from him. “Nobody seemed to know why you missed class last week. Not even Cody.”

She sighed. “It’s been a bad week.”

“Have you been sick?”

“No. I just needed some time to think. And I’ve made a decision.” She sat up straight, squared her shoulders. “I want to go to grad school. Is it too late to apply to the doctoral program here?”

“I’m afraid it may be. But it’s not completely out of the question. The committee can make exceptions in special cases.”

“Do you think I might be a special case?”

“You’re doing solid A work in my class. And Professor McGuire told me your paper on Mary Wollstonecraft was extraordinary. He’s chair of the graduate committee, so that bodes well.” He paused, trying to read her face. To understand what had led her to make this abrupt decision. “Why are you suddenly interested in grad school, Taryn?”

Her lower lip quivered. She cleared her throat, steadied her voice. “I broke up with my boyfriend.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Her eyes pooled. She cleared her throat again, fighting tears. He ached to give her a hug but handed her a box of tissues instead.

“I don’t mean to unload on you, but I didn’t want you to think I’ve blown off your class. It’s the best one I’ve ever had. And you’re the best teacher I’ve ever had.” She saw him frown and added: “Sorry if I’m embarrassing you. Anyway . . .” She took a breath. “This has made me rethink everything about my future. About what sort of life I want. It made me realize that I’ve been as passive and powerless as Heloise. I’m not the loser Liam thinks I am, and I’m going to prove it.”

“Liam? That’s your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” She wiped her hand across her eyes. “He thinks I’m not good enough for him.”

“Well, that’s just bullshit. There’s a whole world of possibilities out there for you, and you don’t need a graduate degree to prove your worth. You can do anything, be anyone you want to be. Why the hell would he think you’re not good enough?”

“Maybe because he’s a doctor’s kid, and I’m just . . . just me.” She wiped her eyes again. “We dated all through high school. I assumed that someday we’d get married. That’s what he used to tell me, anyway. But it’s not going to happen now. Not to someone like me.” She took a breath and sat up straighter. “I’m going to change that.”

“Forgive me for asking, but are you applying to grad school for yourself? Or to prove something to him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s both. Either way, it’s something I need to do. I want to be like you.”

“Like me?” he asked, surprised.

“Your life seems so perfect. Like you’ve got it all figured out.”

He smiled. “Wait till you’re my age. You’ll realize no one ever has it all figured out.”

“But look at what you do. It seems like you really love your job.”

“Yes, I do. Being with young people, talking about the books I love. Doing research that fascinates me. If this is the career you want, I certainly think you’re talented enough to make it happen.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“And as for this ex-boyfriend of yours, if anyone’s a loser, he is for letting you go. Any other man would count himself lucky to have a woman as amazing as . . .” He stopped, suddenly registering the fervor in his own voice. She had heard it, too, and she was leaning in, her eyes transfixed on his face. He looked down at the desk. “Now. Let’s talk about what you need to do to get into grad school.”

“And I’ll need scholarship money as well.”

“Okay. But first things first. Let’s see if we can get you into the program. There’s an application checklist I can mail you. I’ll write a recommendation letter, and I’m sure Professor McGuire will too. But even with a high GPA, you’re going to be up against tough competition. There are only a few slots in the program.”

“But you still think I have a chance?”

“I’ve read your papers, Taryn. I think you’d be a real asset to the program, and we’d be lucky to keep you here.”

“I can’t thank you enough.”

Tears glistened on her eyelashes, and he had the reckless urge to reach across the desk and stroke away her tears. Instead, he looked at his watch, suddenly anxious to end the meeting.

“You’re not like other professors. You’re much more human and understanding.”

Jack shrugged that off, feeling as if he were approaching a minefield. “In any event, if you want to drop by next week, we can talk about the paper you’re writing. A strong thesis idea will certainly help your application.”

“I’m already working on it.”

He walked her to the doorway, where she lingered so close to him that he could smell the scent of her shampoo. He took a step away.

“Come by anytime, Taryn.”

She squeezed his arm and walked out of the room. Even as her footsteps faded away down the hall, he could still feel that touch on his arm.

CHAPTER 20

TARYN

You can do anything, be anyone you want to be.

She heard his voice in her head, his words a mantra that she chanted to herself as she sat in the library, laptop open, books spread out on the table in front of her. You can do anything. Be anyone. What she wanted was to be respected. She wanted Liam to regret he’d ever left her. She wanted his mother to kick herself for thinking Taryn wasn’t good enough to marry her precious son. She wanted the world to know who she was.

Most of all, she wanted to make Professor Dorian proud of her.

No one had ever expressed such faith in her, not any of her other teachers, not even her own mother, although in her defense, Brenda was so beaten down by life she couldn’t foresee any better times. Taryn imagined herself driving up to Brenda’s house someday in a brand-new BMW. She would hand Brenda a copy of her own book, hot off the press. She imagined her mother weeping with joy when she told her it was time to pack up her belongings and move out of that two-bedroom shack into the new house Taryn had bought for her.

But first she needed to get into grad school. And that meant she needed to finish writing this paper.

From the library stacks, she’d collected The Iliad and The Odyssey and half a dozen history books about the Trojan War. The Aeneid had whetted her appetite for stories about warriors and heroes and the choices they made. Love or Glory? That was the title she’d chosen for her paper, a theme that was already shouting at her from all these Greek myths and legends. While women wailed and grieved over their treacherous lovers—Queen Dido abandoned by Aeneas, Medea abandoned by Jason, Ariadne abandoned by Theseus—those lovers simply moved on in pursuit of glory, heedless of the hearts they’d broken. For men the choice was their destiny; for women, the result was always sorrow.

But not for her. She’d be the one to move on, to claim her own glory. You can do anything, be anyone . . .

“You’re still here?” said Cody. He’d left over an hour ago to have dinner, and now he was back. “It’s almost nine o’clock. You’d better get some dinner before the cafeteria closes.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He plopped down in the chair across from her and frowned at all the books lying open on the table. “Wow, you’re really serious about grad school.”

“And nothing’s going to stop me.” She flipped a page and stared at the illustration of Agamemnon wielding a knife, about to slit the throat of his sweet young daughter Iphigenia. He was another coldly ambitious man who chose glory over love, who sacrificed his own child so the gods would send fair winds to hasten his ships to Troy. But he would pay for that monstrous act when he returned from the war. His wife, Clytemnestra, grief stricken over the death of their daughter, would have her revenge. Taryn imagined Clytemnestra’s black rage as she cornered her husband in his bath. The knife in her hand. The triumph she felt as she thrust the blade into his chest . . .

“I don’t get it, Taryn. Why’s getting into grad school suddenly so important?”

“Because everything’s changed. I’ve got plans now. I’m going to get my PhD. I’m going to teach and write books and—”

“Does this have something to do with Liam?”

“Fuck Liam.” She glared at Cody. “He’s nothing. He’s not worth my time. I’ve got better things to do with my life now.”