Free The Third Grace by Deb Elkink

competition, Dayna might look more highly upon Lou’s value to the school and validate her for the effective amalgamation of the arts and sociology departments.
    To top it off, there was always the possibility that Aglaia might be privy to Incognito’s bid for the costuming contract, but Lou was treading carefully when soliciting information from her new little friend, who could very well balk if she surmised that Lou was using her as a drawing card. Lou might be able to leak the right numbers through Oliver and ensure that the contract would be granted to the university—not that they would admit to using insider information. Either way, whether through access to Incognito’s bid or only that company’s handicap in losing Aglaia, Lou’s influence in procuring a movie deal that gave continent-wide publicity to the school was sure to be recompensed and result in her tenureship by PRU. It was a brilliant plot.
    Lou heard a knock on the half-opened door and called, “Come in, Oliver.” But it was a student instead who stuck her head into the office—the attentive girl from the front row of her lecture.
    â€œCan I talk to you for a minute, Dr. Chapman?”
    Lou rose to intercept her. “I’m expecting someone for an appointment momentarily,” she said, just as she saw Oliver Upton plowing down the hallway towards them. “It shouldn’t be long. Why not wait out here for me?” Lou motioned her colleague in and closed the door on the student with a thud as Oliver took a chair.
    â€œHow’s your progress with that young designer?” he demanded, getting right to down to business. He crossed one leg over the other and jiggled his foot. “You know I want the guarantee that she’ll be on my team before I submit the bid to RoundUp Studios. The sooner, the better.”
    â€œI’m massaging her,” Lou replied. She felt the time pressure herself.
    â€œClosing date’s coming up. They’re not cutting us much slack, but since they’re bringing the bulk of the wardrobe and their own costume supervisor with them, I suppose they think of us merely as back-up support.” Oliver retied his shoelace and smoothed his sock. “But I’m just not confident that we have anyone currently on staff who can handle the artistic demands, especially since we’ll have to depend on student input for much of the labor. It’s a managerial nightmare, if I ever imagined one.”
    â€œI think she’ll bite, Oliver. I’ve inferred to Aglaia that you’ll give her a lecturing position in the arts program.”
    â€œThat’s outrageous. My M.A. students, who are clamoring for teaching time themselves, would riot—to say nothing of the stage designers we hire on contract for only a season or a particular production. It would be viewed as nepotism, pure and simple.”
    â€œYes, of course,” Lou said, thinking that nepotism was nothing new in their profession. “But I wanted to sweeten the pot, even if it’s with an empty promise. At any rate, you do have the school’s authority to hire her away from the competitor and that’s—”
    â€œWait a minute,” Oliver cut her off. He rubbed his pointy beard between thumb and forefinger. “Your suggestion of Aglaia as a lecturer has given me an idea. I might be able to call in a few favors after all and facilitate a special honor that should grease the wheels of our plan.”
    Lou admired the craftiness of Oliver’s mind as he outlined his idea and concluded. “I’ll let you know if I make any headway. In the meanwhile,” he said, rising from his chair to leave, “speed your end of the process up, Lou.”
    Oliver’s supercilious manner befitted his seniority but irritated her. She didn’t comment and Oliver said, “Now, I see you’re keeping the university chancellor’s granddaughter waiting in the hall,