"I know."

It's the public embarrassment, the fact that everyone now knows what happened, Edward Hamilton's threat to press charges, the complete ruin of the cafe's grand opening...

I couldn't have fucked it all up any more if I'd tried.

Though Allie, Brent, Marianne, and everyone else at the cafe have said the whole disaster wasn't my fault and have rallied to get things going again, I feel completely responsible for how it all went down.

I've insisted on covering the lost profits and operating expenses until the cafe gets back on its feet, but that hasn't been enough to turn public perception around yet.

And once again, I don't know how to fix it.

Kelsey and I look up at the sound of a car coming to a stop. Liv gets out of the driver's seat, and my entire being floods with pleasure at the sight of her in a polka-dot skirt and white blouse, her ponytail swinging.

I approach the car and open the passenger side door to help Florence Wickham out.

"Oh, thank you, Dean." Florence peers up at the Butterfly House and sighs. "I wish we had more community support for this place. I can't thank you enough for your help, even with all you've been through."

I try not to wince. The news about the Wonderland Cafe's disastrous grand opening has spread through town, and I can only hope the bad publicity doesn't hurt Liv or Allie too much.

"I heard all about it," Florence tells me, shaking her head. "That horrific fight you were in."

"I... uh, I didn't do anything wrong," I say, feeling the sudden urge to reassure this sweet, elderly lady that I'm still respectable.

Florence blinks at me in surprise. "Oh, Dean, of course you didn't do anything wrong! A man like you only does everything right. Isn't that so, Olivia?"

Liv nods solemnly. A current of amusement that I don't understand passes between her and Florence.

"Of course you're a model citizen, Dean." Florence reaches out to pat my arm.

She pauses, lifts an eyebrow, then slides her hand up to give my biceps a little squeeze.

"Oh my." She clears her throat, tightening her grip on me as we walk toward the house. "Well, as I was telling Olivia on the drive up, my granddaughter is the superintendent of the Rainwood school district, and she is just thrilled about the cafe. She's eager to help turn things back in your favor."

"We'd welcome any help, believe me," Liv says.

She introduces Kelsey to Florence, and we go into the house so Florence can see the progress I've made on the interior. After touring the rooms, I step onto the front porch when my phone rings.

"Professor West? This is Ben Stafford of the Office of Judicial Affairs."

My heart drops. "Yes?"

"I wanted to let you know that you'll be receiving an official summons from the King's University board of trustees tomorrow," Stafford says. "In light of recent events, the board is required to investigate and determine if any university rules have been breached."

"I see."

"Also you are still a faculty member pending your resignation," Stafford continues. "Therefore you must be held accountable for your actions and subject to disciplinary proceedings."

"What are the possible consequences?"

"Sanctions include a formal letter of reprimand, suspension, or dismissal."

I don't care about being dismissed because my resignation is effective next month. I don't care about being suspended either. I don't like the idea of a letter of reprimand that will go in my permanent file, but I can live with it if I have to.

I exhale a breath. "Okay. It's a formality, right?"

"Er, well... no," Stafford says.

"Then what?"

"This is a public disciplinary hearing, Professor West. The investigative report will go on public record. And anyone can attend."

His slight emphasis on the word anyone is enough. Anyone can include Maggie and Edward Hamilton. Hearing means Liv might be asked to testify. Investigate means all the bullshit about my alleged harassment of a student will go public anyway.

"And my reputation is shot to hell," I say.

Shit. So much for all those inquiries from museums and other universities about the next stage of my career.

"Should I bring my lawyer?" I ask.

"I'd advise against it," Stafford replies. "The board tends to look upon a legal team as evidence of guilt, or at least an attempt to stonewall an investigation."

"So I just have to sit there and take it?"

"You'll have the opportunity to defend your actions, Professor West," Stafford assures me, though not even he can make it sound like that will do any good.

June 16 The King's University board of trustees convenes in the main hall of the oldest building on campus, a brick-and-tile building modeled after Italian basilica architecture.

Liv and I go into the main meeting hall. A long, polished wood table sits at the head of the room, lined on one side with nine leather chairs. Another table with a microphone on a stand faces it, in front of the spectator seats.

We sit on a bench behind the table with the microphone. Because we're so early, there's no one else here yet. Liv takes my hand.

Once upon a time, I wouldn't have wanted her here. I'd have wanted to keep her away from the ugliness of it, handle things on my own, fix it for her.

Now I can't imagine her not being here.

I look at her. She's watching me, her expression serious, but her eyes warm. She's wearing a gray suit, her hair pulled back, little pearl earrings. The cameo engagement ring I'd gotten at that antique shop encircles her finger beside her wedding band. I have a sudden rush of regret that I never gave my wife the proposal she deserved.

The click of the door opening breaks through my thoughts. People begin to enter the room. Liv tightens her hand around mine.

It's okay. She's okay. Our baby is okay. I can handle anything if I know that.

Voices and noise fill the air as people sit down. I'd thought Frances Hunter would be here by now. The more the seats fill with spectators, the more tension grips my shoulders.

My one last hope was that not many people would show up to watch my downfall. So much for that hope. A half hour before the proceedings start, the room is full. My stomach turns at the thought of all these people hearing that I was accused of sexually harassing a student.

The hum of voices, rustling papers and backpacks, rise behind me. There's no sign of Edward Hamilton, but Maggie comes through the side door, her face pinched and her mouth set in a determined line.

When everyone is seated, the nine members of the board of trustees file into the room, all looking stern and duty-bound. I turn, trying to find Frances, the sheer number of people making me nervous. I see Kelsey in the front row, and she gives me a nod of encouragement.

After the trustees sit down and confer, Chancellor Radcliffe calls the hearing to order and begins with an account of my arrest.

"As a member of this faculty, Professor West," he says, "you are upheld to a code of conduct that you have publicly violated. You also stand accused of ethically questionable conduct which we will further investigate. You may deliver a preliminary statement in your defense, if you wish."

I detach my hand from Liv's and move to the microphone. Take a folded piece of paper from my pocket and open it.

"My name is Dean West, professor of Medieval Studies, PhD summa cum laude, Harvard University. I have..." My throat tightens. I pause and swallow hard.

"I have spent my adult life in the pursuit of knowledge and education. I believe strongly in academic freedom and hold both myself and my students to the highest standards of scholarship. I have never once violated the educational process or the trust and authority placed in me as a faculty member at any institution. It has been my honor to represent King's University and to work with the outstanding students and faculty here. I would-"

"Excuse me, Professor West."

We all turn. Frances Hunter strides down the center of the room from the main entrance. In a tailored, dark green suit, her hair steely gray, she looks like a general marching into battle. She stops beside me, shouldering me out of the way to reach the microphone.

"Chancellor Radcliffe, I apologize for interrupting," she says, "but I must inform you that one of the scheduled witnesses will not be appearing at today's proceedings."

Radcliffe peers at her over the tops of his glasses. "Who, Professor Hunter?"

"Miss Hamilton's father, Edward Hamilton."

"What?" Maggie rises from her seat, paling. "How do you know? What happened?"

Frances shoots her a scathing look and returns her attention to the chancellor.

"We received word that Mr. Hamilton has left town and returned to Chicago," Frances continues, "in light of our discovery that Miss Hamilton's academic progress at King's was severely compromised under the advisement of Professor Jeffrey Butler."

Maggie gasps. The crowd stirs. Radcliffe frowns.

"To what are you referring, Professor Hunter?" he asks.

"Miss Hamilton allegedly had an affair with Professor Butler." Frances sounds almost triumphant. "Given that he was her advisor, it was a breach of university regulations on both their parts. Miss Hamilton has very poor academic credentials, and appears to have attempted to find another way to graduate from King's."

"That's not true!" Maggie cries, turning to point an accusing finger at me. "He's the one who has stopped me from finishing my thesis because he wanted-"

"I wanted you to do your work," I interrupt.

"Excuse me, Chancellor."

We all turn again as there is another rustle from the crowd, one of the spectators standing. Ben Stafford pushes past a row of people to reach the microphone, nudging Frances aside.

"Ben Stafford, Office of Judicial Affairs," he says. "I must unequivocally state that any case or claim from Miss Hamilton involving Professor West was determined by me personally to be entirely unfounded."

"We know, Mr. Stafford," Radcliffe replies. "Our purpose here is-"

"I understand that this hearing is intended for further investigation," Stafford interrupts, "but given Miss Hamilton's poor academic record and her relationship with Jeffrey Butler, it's clear that she was motivated by revenge toward Professor West. Therefore, may I please request that the board dismiss and permanently close their investigation of such a case?"

Behind me, I hear Liv's intake of breath. Under my locked defenses, a faint flicker of hope comes to life.

"I would further suggest," Frances adds, slanting another narrow glance at Maggie, "that we no longer devalue King's University by allowing Miss Hamilton to remain a student here. She is responsible for this entire fiasco. If she does not withdraw from the university herself, I strongly recommend that the board consider expelling her."

Maggie takes a step back, her eyes darting from Frances to me to the board, as if she's a trapped animal seeking escape. Radcliffe and the other board members exchange glances.

"And," Frances adds, "I'm quite certain the faculty and students of the Department of History would provide statements about Miss Hamilton's conduct and lack of academic ability. Perhaps Jeffrey Butler would too."

Maggie goes sheet-white. "He was my advisor! He would never say anything against me. And my father has donated buckets of money to this university, so if you think-"

"What I think," Frances replies tartly, "is that you are a spoiled little girl and a liar who never deserved to be admitted to King's University."

A stunned silence falls over the room. The board members shift in their seats and reach out to cover their microphones as they lean toward each other with low whispers.

Maggie's face goes red with anger and shame.

"I'll sue you," she snaps, whirling to glare at me. "All of you. None of you protected me from a professor who tried to blackmail me into sleeping with him!"

"Is that what Jeffrey Butler did?" Frances asks, smoothly deflecting the attention away from me. "Interesting that there is video evidence suggesting otherwise."

Now the crowd stirs with a few gasps of horrified amusement.

Maggie backs up, gripping her bag. "That's a lie."

"If you want to sue, then we'll ask the Office of Judicial Affairs to investigate further," Frances snaps. "Is that what you want? You can't hide behind your father anymore. As a matter of fact, you don't have anywhere to hide."

Maggie backs up another step, her bag clutched to her chest like a shield. And then, with a strange flash of fear, her gaze darts over the crowd and lands on the person sitting behind me.

I move forward instinctively to put myself between Maggie and Liv, to protect Liv from whatever venom Maggie might spit at her. Then I stop and turn to look at my wife.

Liv is watching Maggie, her expression calm but her eyes dark with a combination of anger and pity. Exactly the way she had looked at her mother.

The air seems to crack between Liv and Maggie. Then Maggie whirls on her heel and hurries from the room, slamming the door behind her. Hushed whispers rise.

All the breath escapes my lungs. Liv looks at me and nods toward the board members and Frances. I turn back to them and try to refocus.

"All right," Radcliffe says, his voice loud and somewhat irritated. "We will address the matter of Miss Hamilton at a later date, as clearly some questions need to be answered. Now the issue at hand is Professor West's misconduct and possible crime. You were recently arrested, Professor West, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"For disorderly conduct and fighting?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excuse me, Chancellor." Kelsey stands and pushes her way toward the microphone. "Kelsey March, associate professor, Department of Atmospheric Sciences."

Radcliffe sighs. "Yes, Professor March?"

"I was present at the time of the incident, Chancellor," Kelsey says. "It was the opening of Mrs. Olivia West's cafe, and if I might say, it was a lovely event before Edward Hamilton's assault on Professor West ruined it for everyone."

"Professor West was assaulted?" one of the other board members asks.

"Violently." Kelsey nods. "We all witnessed it. Verbal abuse, then a physical attack. It's a wonder Professor West didn't sustain more serious trauma."