“If you just want to have a seat here, I’ll make sure he’s here, and then bring you back.” She points to the seat I was in this morning when I first arrived. She comes back not even two minutes later, a bright smile still on her face. “Okay, Dean Philips will see you now.”

My smile falters and my heart stops beating for half a second at that name. There’s obviously no relation to him, but that name always makes me stop in my tracks, even five years later. Schooling my features, my smile returns, as I follow her to the office that’s directly next door to hers.

Upon entering, a spicy fragrance hits my nose, causing uncomfortable nostalgia to wash over me and bury itself in my gut. The dean is facing away from us in his chair, working on something in the area behind his desk, in front of the wide window.

I take a seat in the chair in front of him as Janet says, “Dean Philips, our new English professor is here for you, Mr. Marco.”

“Oh, it’s DeMarco, ma’am.”

“Oh.” She laughs. “My apologies, dear.”

As she’s finishing her sentence, the desk chair swings around, and my gaze collides with a pair of hazelnut brown eyes that have my throat plummeting to my stomach. It feels like the wind has been knocked right out of me.

No. It isn’t possible. No fucking way.

The utter shock I’m drowning in currently is mirrored on the face of the dean in front of me. His lips, that are full of empty promises and filthy lies, are parted in surprise, as his cold, heartless eyes stare at me wide-eyed.

Dean Philips—Dean Stone Philips—is stunned speechless as we take each other in. Janet is rambling about something that I can’t possibly listen to. Not above the blood whooshing in my ears and my heart pounding against my ribcage. Time stands fucking still as realization dawns on me.

How the fuck is the dean—my fucking boss—of my new job, Stone fucking Philips? How?! It’s been five goddamn years. Five years since he left without a single fucking word. Five years since he destroyed my heart and tore my soul from me. Five years without a single fucking word to let me know he’s alive and okay… and now here he is.

I don’t know how long we sit there, staring at one another, but Janet finally cuts through. “Uh, Dean?”

“Yes, Janet. I’m sorry. Thank you. I’ll take it from here. You can go.”

“Oh,” she says, standing up. “Very well. Cash, again, it was so nice to meet you, and I’m thrilled to have you here.” She leaves the room, shutting the door behind her, taking all my sanity with her.