Free Winter Jacket by Eliza Lentzski Page B

looked away, embarrassed that she'd caught me staring at her.
    My hand went to the pocket of my dress where I kept my cell phone.  I had an impulse to call Troian to come save me from my own party, but I knew she'd only tease me about my inability to have a conversation with attractive women. I had a PhD in English; you'd think words would come easily to me. But beautiful women who made unwavering eye contact were my kryptonite.
    As I stood there, ignoring the party happening around me, I gave myself a pep talk. It would be rude to not at least acknowledge her presence. I could go over there and say hi. I could handle that.
    "Excuse me, Bob," I said as I started to separate myself from the conversation. "I've got to make the rounds. I don't want to be a poor hostess." He apologized for monopolizing my time, and I flashed him a reassuring smile. I didn't bother telling him there was someone else at the party monopolizing my attention.
    I breathed in deeply, summoning my courage, and began to walk in her direction. Our eyes met again, and this time I didn't look away. A ghost of a smile played on her lips, and I felt my confidence bolster.
    A hand at my elbow brought me to a stop. "Wonderful party, Dr. Graft." It was my boss, Dean Krauss, the Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences. He wasn't my direct supervisor; that was Bob, Chair of the English Department. Dean Krauss was much higher up the food chain.
    "Thank you, Dean." My heart hammered in my chest. I sincerely hoped he hadn't witnessed me eyeballing up a student. "And please call me Elle."  I glanced once in Hunter’s direction and I swear I saw her look at me sympathetically and with a little bit of disappointment that I'd been sidelined by the Dean.
    "You have a lovely home, Elle," he continued, casting his gaze around the open-floor plan. I loved the openness of the first floor. It was what had originally attracted me to the house. "Have you lived here long?"
    "About two years," I told him. When I'd first been hired, I rented an apartment. I hadn't wanted to rush into a major commitment like buying a house in case the school didn't work out.
    "Your Tenure Review is coming up soon, isn't it?"
    I made a humming noise. "Soon,” I confirmed. "Next Fall.”
    When the doorbell rang again, indicating I had more guests, I had an excuse to wiggle away from Dean Kraus. “I should probably get that.”
    The man nodded. "Well, keep up the good work. I hear good things."
    I hustled away from the Dean and welcomed more students into my home.  When I closed the door, I looked in the direction where Hunter had previously been standing. I saw the same group of students in that corner of the living room, but she was no longer with them. I frowned, realizing she'd probably come and gone and that I'd missed my opportunity to talk with her one last time. The semester had ended and as a nursing student I doubted she'd have any reason or time in her schedule to take another English class. There was always the possibility of randomly running into her on campus at the library or cafeteria, but I knew that most of the pre-professional disciplines had their students interning off-campus during their senior year.
    The realization that I'd probably never see her again hit me, and suddenly I didn't feel like such a gracious hostess anymore.  It was late in the evening and I wanted my house back. I wanted to trade my heels for slippers and my dress for pajama pants.  But instead of being rude and immediately shooing everyone out, I plastered on a fake smile and tried to fight through the rest of the evening.
     
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    Around nine o’clock, the party finally started to die down.  I was surprised that people had stayed for so long.  Normally students stayed for half an hour, ate the food and drank the free alcohol, and then left for some other pre-graduation party.  But for whatever reason, the crowds had lingered a little longer than usual tonight, well after the last celery stick