By Jove Read Online Free

toes.
    “Oh, she’s there. That’s June Cadwallader. Julian’s secretary. More or less runs the department. Don’t get on her bad side. She can make life miserable if she doesn’t like you. You’re probably already screwed, though. She doesn’t like female students.”
    “Why not—oh, who’s that?” She nodded toward a couple who had just entered.
    The man, dark and bearded, leaned on a pair of crutches. His upper body appeared massive in contrast to his wasted legs. His much younger companion fussed and patted his arm when he paused.
    Theo nearly gasped aloud; she had never seen such an exquisitely beautiful woman outside of a fashion magazine. Long blond hair tumbled over her shoulders, framing a face so symmetrical, so perfect, so pink and ivory and gold that Theo felt like one of the gargoyles carved on the building’s entries in comparison.
    “Dr. Forge-Smythe! Mrs. Frothington-Forge-Smythe!” breathed Andrew. He shoved his wineglass at Theo and hurried over to them.
    “Frothington-Forge-Smythe? That’s a mouthful,” Theo murmured, watching the pair greet the student. Dr. Forge-Smythe’s manner was warm enough as he shifted his crutches to shake Andrew’s hand, but his wife’s smile lit up the space around them like a klieg light. Andrew swayed as if he were going to faint under its impact.
    “She never did have a sense of proportion,” murmured someone behind her. Theo turned to see Grant Proctor watching the professor and his wife.
    “She doesn’t have to, looking like that.” Theo shook her head in admiration, then turned to him. Yup, just as good-looking as he’d been this morning. “I was hoping you’d be here. I want to hear more about your erudite moose.” She handed her and Andrew’s wineglasses to a wandering toga-ed server.
    He nodded. “They’re good, but they’re nothing compared to the porcupines. We’ve trained them to do the choruses in Aeschylus and Euripides. Their diction is better than the moose’s, but they do tend to overact shamelessly.”
    She giggled, and he smiled with her. “I’d love to see them.”
    “It’s very funny, especially when their quills get entangled. I’d like to switch them to comedies, but they’re too in love with doing the Oresteia every fall before they hibernate.” He shrugged.
    “You might read Aristophanes to them in their sleep over the winter. Subliminal suggestion might work,” she said, matching his serious tone.
    “That’s a very good idea. I’ll have to try it. Though I think they’re a little too touchy to deal with satire well. The moose have a much better innate grasp of comedy.” He leaned a little closer to her. “Mind you, we might get the bears back if we did comedies. They marched out last year and swore they wouldn’t come back until we promised not to make them do Trojan Women in drag again.”
    She laughed out loud. The sound attracted the attention of the trio standing nearby. Mrs. Frothington-Forge-Smythe looked at them in surprise. When she saw Grant, her eyes widened. She walked over to them, followed by Dr. Forge-Smythe and Andrew.
    “Hello, Renee,” Grant said as the woman glided up, her megawatt smile trained on him.
    Theo felt even more awkward. Renee Frothington-Forge-Smythe was inches shorter than she, but so well proportioned that Theo amended her comparison: now she felt like a gargoyle on a ladder.
    “Hello,” the woman purred back at him. “Do my eyes deceive me? Is it—?”
    “Grant Proctor.” He nodded to her.
    Theo watched him from the corners of her eyes and held her breath, waiting to see if he would be transformed into a fawning puddle like Andrew. But his expression of polite interest didn’t change.
    “Pro—ah, yes, of course. How lovely to see you after all these years. What brings you here?” The woman’s violet-blue eyes raked over him, a speculative gleam lurking in their depths. She leaned toward him with a sinuous movement, and Theo saw Andrew swallow hard.
    “A