Free Counterpointe by Ann Warner

Joyce still angry with him for ending their relationship, Rob began to dread faculty meetings since they afforded Joyce such rich opportunities to snipe at him. She was subtle enough that he appeared to be the only one aware of her tactics—often comments veiled with apparent admiration as she proposed him for the most onerous and time-consuming duties.
     
    “It’s obvious the best person to head the curriculum review is Rob.” Joyce smirked at him. “He has such an excellent understanding of academic requirements, not to mention, great rapport with the students.”
     
    “Rob has a full plate right now, Joyce, with his grant renewal coming through.” The department chairman gave them both a thoughtful look. “I believe I’ll table that assignment for the moment.”
     
    Rob didn’t even glance in Joyce’s direction, knowing it would encourage her to try harder next time.
     

    “Dr. Chapin?”
     
    Rob looked up to find his Japanese graduate student standing in the doorway of his office. “What is it, Hatsume?”
     
    “A small problem. I don’t like I have to bother you.”
     
    “No bother. Please, tell me what it is.”
     
    With head bowed, the girl came and perched on the edge of the chair next to his desk. “Is what Dr. Willette say.”
     
    “And what was that?” His hands clenched. He was damned tired of Joyce’s sniping.
     
    “She say the IR bought with her money. I no can use without asking her permission.”
     
    The IR, infrared spectrometer, was located in a room with other equipment various faculty, including Rob, had purchased with grant funds. Only the most sensitive instruments were restricted. The IR was one of the workhorses. Even undergraduates used it.
     
    He could retaliate, of course. Require Joyce’s students to seek his permission to use the instruments his grants had supplied, but it would only make the situation both more uncomfortable and more public.
     
    “I’m sorry, Hatsume. But if Dr. Willette wishes to restrict access, it’s her prerogative.”
     
    Against his better judgment, Rob went to see Joyce. He stood in her doorway waiting for her to acknowledge his presence.
     
    “Well, well, Robbie. This is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?” She didn’t invite him in, not that he had any intention of getting closer.
     
    “Hatsume tells me you’ve restricted access to the IR.”
     
    “That’s right.”
     
    “You’re angry with me, Joyce. Why take it out on a student?”
     
    “It’s Doctor Willette.”
     
    He’d once thought her both attractive and accomplished, failing to see below the thin surface coating to her true nature. Now it was all he did see. Intelligence in the service of vindictiveness. A lovely face masking an ugly disposition.
     
    “I’m not playing your game, Joyce. Attack me if you must, but lay off the students.”
     
    “So, report me, why don’t you?” Her smile was that of a crocodile getting ready to feed.
     
    “I’m considering it. Our chairman may be laid back, but he won’t allow students to be mistreated. Especially graduate students.”
     
    The gloating look was replaced by a sick expression. “Get out.”
     
    “Gladly.”
     
    Joyce was making him pay a high price, but Clare was worth every penny.
     

    The Nutcracker rehearsal had been long, and Clare was more than ready to go home. But first she needed to comfort Denise, who’d just been bumped from a first cast solo by a minor ankle strain.
     
    Lisa swept by Clare and Denise in the changing room then stopped and turned. “Gee, Ross. Too bad about the ankle. A word to the wise. If I were you, I’d start planning on doing something else next year.”
     
    Clare usually ignored Lisa’s nasty comments, but it was one thing to choose not to fight back on her own account, another to see a friend being hurt.
     
    She took a breath and tried to keep her tone casual. “Actually, you’re the one who should plan a new career.”
     
    “Oh? And why is