Eager to Learn (Complicity Cycle) Read Online Free Page B

slick leather. The shelves boasted a humidor for cigars, a collection of scotches—their bottles still encased in fine, papery cylinders—and a silver espresso machine.
    Though I’d never thought about it before, I suddenly wondered how much they paid professors. Certainly not enough to decorate an office like this.
    Giacomo sat behind a heavy desk littered with haphazard papers, golden trinkets, and, disjunctively, a doll that looked like it had eloped from a Mexican Día de Muertos festival. The doll stood erect on its stand and wore a strange red costume. Its grinning skull head stared at me.
    The older man didn’t even look up as I entered. He was typing on a Macbook, the blue square of its screen reflected in his glasses. With stern eyes, he referenced a printed spreadsheet beside the laptop, then continued typing.
    “Dr. Giacomo?” I said. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
    Still without looking up or pausing his typing, he said, “You won’t be in just a few more seconds.” He typed some more keystrokes then hit command-s to save. “There,” he said, closing his laptop. He removed his glasses and, with the squareness of his face and the sharpness of his eyes, he looked astoundingly masculine . Like some indomitable, battle-scarred lion. “What can I do for you?”
    “I’m Caitlyn Seager,” I said. “You asked me to come see you during your office hours. I gave you a sheet—”
    “Ah, yes,” Giacomo said. He motioned toward the leather armchair across from his desk. “Close the door and have a seat. Coffee? I just brewed a pot.”
    “Uh, yes sir,” I said, obeying. The door clicked heavily into place as I closed it, and the leather whispered as I sat. Giacomo’s office had no windows, and with the door closed, only the tick of a wall-mounted clock scratched the silence. A warm lamp bathed the room in amber.
    As Giacomo moved to pour two mugs of coffee, I could n’t help but notice the sureness of his motions. The smooth confidence, so authentic in comparison to Jeffery’s cocky swagger.
    “Sugar or cream?” Giacomo asked.
    “Both,” I said.
    “How much?”
    “Oh, uh, just some,” I said, somehow flustered.
    He chuckled with an ex-smoker’s rugged smoothness. “I’ll make it fairly sweet, then.”
    “Thank you,” I said.
    I continued looking around the richly-decorated office as he poured cream and sugar. I studied the landscape paintings on the wall, the violet orchids growing under a light that shone only on them, the sparkling crystal and silver of decanters, snifters, and tumblers in the cabinets overhead. However, my eyes kept returning to that out-of-place straw doll and its hollow bone eyes.
    Giacomo held a dark purple mug out to me, the coffee now lightened to milky beige. I took it and blew across the top, waiting for it to cool before I sipped.
    The older man took a long pull of his own coffee—black—and produced the sheet I’d given him from a desk drawer. He studied it briefly.
    “So,” he said. “Your condition?”
    “Yes, sir,” I said. “It’s a rare form of epilepsy. Sometimes I have short-term memory blackouts.”
    “You mean complex partial seizures?” he asked, still studying the paper from the university counseling office.
    I shook my head. “No sir. I stay aware throughout the incidents. Sometimes an hour or two will just go missing for a while.”
    “Hmm,” said Giacomo, turning his eyes on me. “Seems like a fairly convenient way to get out of hard test questions, isn’t it?” he asked.
    I felt my face flush and shook my head. “No sir. I almost always remember the missing time within twenty-four hours. I’m always careful to do my studying ahead of time in case I block a cram session, so I never have to worry about that.”
    “That’s a good idea,” said Giacomo. He set the sheet down on his desk and interlaced his fingers. “So if it’s no trouble on tests, why bring it up?”
    I sipped my coffee. “I let all my teachers know, but