Chapter 19
Julia awoke the next morning to the sounds of the shower. She was
trying to work out how someone other than she could be in her washroom when the sounds stopped and a tall, brown-haired man wrapped in a small, purple towel came through the door. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she gasped, clapping a hand over her open mouth.
“Good morning,” said Gabriel, clutching the towel that was slung low on his hips with one hand while grabbing his clothes with the other.
Julia stared. And she wasn’t staring at his face.
Regardless of what she was staring at, his hair was wet and sticking out in unruly spikes from his head. Beads of water clung to his shoulders and chest and glistened off the surface of his tattoo. The contours of sinew, muscle and veins, symmetry and balance, idealized proportion, and classical lines would be breathtaking even to the casual observer. But Julia was anything but a casual observer, for she had spent the entire night with this very body in her bed, spooning her close and playing with her hair. And this body was attached to a damn fine mind and a very deep, passionate soul.
Nevertheless, Julia was staring at his physical form, and thus the term aquatic demi-god flitted through her consciousness.
Gabriel grinned. “I said good morning, Julianne.”
She closed her mouth. “Um, good morning.”
He walked over and leaned down, pressing a firm but gentle opened-mouth kiss against her lips. A few droplets of water splashed around her on the sheets. “Did you sleep well?”
She nodded slowly, feeling a good deal too warm.
“You’re not saying much.” He straightened up and smirked at her.
“You’re half-naked.”
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“Right. Would you prefer me wholly naked?” He shifted the towel provocatively on his hips and grinned.
Julia nearly expired in shock.
“I’m just kidding, sweetheart.” He kissed her again, with a furrowed brow.
A discomforting thought occurred to him. He retreated backward with a very serious expression on his face. “I forgot about what happened to you in St. Louis. When you were little,” he clarified. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this. I wasn’t thinking.”
Julia looked over at him with mute appreciation. She smiled shyly. “It’s all right. You’re just distracting. You seem happy this morning.”
He grinned. “Sharing a bed with you agrees with me. Can I make you breakfast?”
“Um, sure. But you know I don’t have a kitchen.”
“I’m a resourceful man.” Gabriel smiled at her genuinely, his warmth enough to overcome her embarrassment about her cooking facilities.
Just before he closed the bathroom door behind him, she was treated to the barest glimpse of the most beautiful gluteus maximus muscles as Gabriel dropped his purple towel.
Julia gaped like a codfish.
P
The following evening, Rachel returned to Philadelphia from her romantic holiday with Aaron and promptly checked her voice mail. After a frantic call to her father, she immediately telephoned Gabriel and left a message.
“What the hell is going on up there, Gabriel? What did you do to Julia? She only disappeared once in her life and that was when she was completely humiliated by her ex! So what the fuck did you do to her? I swear to God I’m hopping on a plane. Call me…
“By the way, Dad says hi and he’s glad you called. Would it kill you to call him once a week? He has decided to go back to work because he can’t stand being home alone. And by the way, he put the house up for sale.”
Then, more than slightly worried about her best friend, Rachel called Julia and left a message on her voice mail, as well.
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“Julia, what did Gabriel do? He was raving like a lunatic on my voice mail. He isn’t answering his phone, so I can’t get his side of the story. Not that I expect the truth from him. Anyway, I hope that you’re all right, and I’m really sorry. Whatever he did, please don’t disappear on me again. Not when this is our last Thanksgiving in the house. My dad put it up for sale. Aaron still wants to get you a ticket, so call me, okay? Love you.”
Afterward, Rachel returned to her normal life in Philadelphia, anxiously awaiting news from her brother and her best friend. And quietly planning a wedding.
After Gabriel convinced his sister not to fly to Toronto in order to kick his ass, and he spoke to Richard about taking the house off the market, he promptly left a message on Julia’s voice mail, which he connected with while she was talking to her father:
“You never seem to answer your phone. [Fumes slightly…] Do you have call waiting? Would you order it, please? I don’t care what it costs. I’ll pay for it. But I’m tired of leaving messages. [Deep breath.] I’m assuming you’ve heard from Rachel. She’s furious with me, but I think I’ve been able to convince her that you and I had an academic misunderstanding and have since kissed and made up. [Chuckle.] Well, I left out the kissing part.
“Maybe you can call and reassure her before she fulfills her threat to get on an airplane. [Sigh…deep breath.] Julianne, I enjoyed waking up next to you yesterday. More than I can say on an answering machine. Tell me I’ll be able to wake up next to you again soon. [Lowered, smoldering voice…] I’m sitting in front of the fireplace wishing you were here, wrapped in my arms. Call me, principessa.”
P
Meanwhile, Julia was talking to her father.
“I’m glad you’re coming home, Jules. I’ll be on call, but we’ll be able to spend some time together…” Tom’s voice trailed off into a cough as he tried to clear his throat.
“Good. Rachel wants me to visit her too. She’s getting married, and I think she needs some help with the preparations, now that Grace is gone.”
“Deb invited me over for dinner with her and her kids. I’m sure she’d set an extra place for you.”
“No way in hell,” Julia muttered.
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“What’s that?”
“Sorry, Dad. It would be nice to see Deb but there’s no way I’m going over there. No way.”
Tom paused uncomfortably. “I don’t need to, either. I, um, see Deb all the time.”
Julia rolled her eyes.
“What time should I pick you up at the airport?”
“Actually, Gabriel Emerson is living in Toronto. He mentioned something about going home that weekend. I’ll see if I can catch a ride with the Clarks from Philadelphia, if we fly in at the same time.”
Tom was quiet for a moment or two. “Gabriel is there?”
“He teaches at the university. I have a class with him.”
“You never told me that. Jules, you need to stay away from him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s trouble.”
“Why do you say that?”
Tom cleared his throat again. “He never came home to see his mother when she was dying. Never spends time with his family. I don’t trust him, and I sure as hell wouldn’t trust him with my daughter.”
“Dad, he’s Rachel’s brother. She knows I’m coming home for Thanksgiving. She’ll probably pick us up at the airport, anyway.”
“Whatever you do, don’t carry anything for him on the airplane and don’t accept anything from him that looks suspicious. You’ll be going through customs.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m keeping an eye out for you. Can’t I do that with my only daughter?”
Julia stifled the urge to say something cruel or rude in response. “I’ll buy my ticket and let you know what’s happening.”
“Fine. Talk to you later.”
And with that, Julia’s largely uninformative conversation with Thomas Mitchell of Selinsgrove came to an end.
She spent the next hour reassuring Rachel that yes, she was fine and no, Gabriel was (perhaps surprisingly) no longer being an ass. She also convinced Aaron that she had enough money from her scholarship to purchase a flight. She mentioned her father’s scheduling conflict and promised that she would join the Clarks for Thanksgiving dinner Thursday night.
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More than slightly exhausted, she spent another hour persuading Gabriel that it was not a good idea for them to share a bed every evening, especially when there was the possibility that someone connected with the university could see them entering or leaving one another’s apartments. He had acquiesced, albeit grumpily, while exacting a promise for another sleepover before seven days had elapsed.
Julia did not want to be the cause of Gabriel losing his job, so she was determined to limit the possibilities that they might be seen together. She was also determined not to spend every night in his bed, for she knew where that would lead. She was still struggling to trust him, her reticence more than reasonable given the fact that he had only changed his disposition toward her recently. And he’d all but admitted that his passion for her was teetering on the edge of his control.
Julia did not want to be persuaded into doing things she was not ready to do. She didn’t want to give him part of herself and return to her apartment feeling used and lonely, as she had so many times with him. No, Gabriel was not him. But that fact made her no less cautious, although she wanted to trust him.
Despite her self-protection, Julia slept far more peacefully with Gabriel than without him, and every day she didn’t see him her heart ached.
P
Monday afternoon found Julia answering her doorbell. A delivery person stood outside, holding a large, white box. She signed for it, and when she returned to her studio, she opened a card that was attached to the box. The card had the initials G. O. E. embossed on the top and was handwritten:
Dear Julianne,
Thank you for sharing yourself with me Friday night.
You have the heart of a lion.
I would dearly like to tame you, slowly,
but without the tears or the good-bye.
Yours,
Gabriel
P.S. I have a new, private e-mail account at your disposal:
goe717@gmail.com
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Julia opened the box and was immediately captivated by a beautiful fragrance. Inside, she was stunned to find a large glass bowl filled with water. Suspended on the surface of the water were seven gardenias. She carefully removed the bowl from its packaging and placed it on her card table, inhaling deeply as the perfume began to permeate the room.
She re-read Gabriel’s note and eagerly opened her laptop so that she could send him a quick e-mail from her Gmail account:
Dear Gabriel,
Thank you for the gardenias; they’re lovely.
Thank you for your card.
Thank you for listening.
Looking forward to seeing you soon,
Julia
XO
P
On Wednesday afternoon, Julia met Paul by the mailboxes before Professor Emerson’s seminar. They exchanged pleasantries and chatted briefly before they were somewhat rudely interrupted by Julia’s cell phone. The call was (miraculously) from Dante Alighieri, so of course, she answered it.
“I have to take this,” she murmured to Paul apologetically before she walked into the hall.
“Hello?”
“Julianne.”
She smiled widely at the sound of his voice. “Hello.”
“Will you join me for dinner?”
She looked around quickly to ensure that she was alone. “Um, what did you have in mind?”
“Dinner at my place. I haven’t seen you since Saturday. I’m beginning to think you only want e-mail correspondence now that you have my new address.” Gabriel chuckled.
Julia breathed deeply, glad that he wasn’t irritated with her. “I’ve been getting ready for my next meeting with Katherine. You’ve been working on your lecture, so…”
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“I need to see you.”
“I want to see you too. But we’ll see each other in a few minutes.”
“I need to speak to you about that. We’re going to have to pretend as if nothing happened in my last seminar. I’ll probably ignore you, just for effect. I wanted to tell you in advance so that I wouldn’t upset you.” He paused for a moment. “Of course, all I want to do is touch you, but we need to keep up appearances.”
“I understand.”
“Julianne…” he began, dropping his voice, “I don’t like this any more than you do. But I would like to have you join me for dinner tonight, so I can make it up to you. After, we can spend a quiet evening by the fire enjoying one another’s company. Before bed.”
Julia’s cheeks immediately flamed with color. “I’d like to, but I was planning on working all evening. I haven’t finished the revisions Katherine asked for, and I meet with her tomorrow afternoon. She’s very demanding.”
He began muttering under his breath.
“I’m sorry, Gabriel, but I want to make her happy.”
“What about making me happy?”
“I…” Julia was at a loss for words.
He fumed slightly. “Will you promise to see me Friday night, instead?”
“After your lecture?”
“I’ll be going to dinner. I’d like you to meet me at my place after that.”
“Won’t that be too late?”
“Not for what I have in mind. You promised, you know.”
Julia smiled at the thought of the new, mature sleepover she had only recently discovered.
“So will I see you Friday night?” He dropped his voice to a seductive whisper.
“Yes. I’ll have to come up with an excuse to give Paul. We’re going to the lecture together.”
Silence rippled on the other end of the telephone line.
“Hello?” Julia moved to a different location in the hallway, hoping her movement would improve her reception. “Are you still there?”
“I’m here.” Gabriel’s tone was suddenly glacial.
Scheisse, she thought.
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He was silent for another moment before he resumed speaking. “Did we or did we not have an arrangement that excluded sharing?”
Double Scheisse.
“Um, of course.”
“I’ve kept up my end of that arrangement.”
“Gabriel, please — ”
He cut her off. “Tell me that I misunderstood what you just told me.”
“We’re friends. He asked me to go with him to your lecture. I didn’t think it was wrong.”
“Do you want me seeing other women as friends? Going to public events with them?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Then extend me the same courtesy.”
“Please don’t be cross with me.”
Her request was met with silence.
“He’s the only friend I have. Being a grad student in a strange city is very…lonely.”
“I thought I was your friend.”
“Of course you are. But I need someone to talk to about school and things.”
“Anything to do with the university should be discussed with me.”
“Please don’t make me give up the one friend I have, apart from you. Then I really will be isolated, since I can’t be with you all the time.”
Gabriel flinched. “Have you told him you’re seeing someone?”
Julia gulped. “No. I thought it was a secret.”
“Come on, Julianne. You’re smarter than that.” He sighed loudly. “Fine. I’ll concede that you need a friend, but he needs to realize that you are no longer available. He’s far too invested as it is, and that could create a problem for us.”
“I’ll tell him I have a new boyfriend. We’re supposed to go to the museum in two weeks to see — ”
Gabriel growled into the phone. “No, you are not. I’ll take you.”
“In public? How can you?”
“Let me worry about that. So I suppose he’ll be carrying your books to class in a few minutes?” His tone became sarcastic.
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“Please, Gabriel.”
He exhaled deeply into the phone. “All right. Let’s forget about this. But I will have my eye on him. As for Friday, I’ll give you a key, or I’ll call the concierge and he will let you in.”
“Okay.”
“See you in a few minutes.”
P
When Julia and Paul arrived at the seminar room, The Professor was already there. He glanced at them, scowled at Paul, and turned his attention to his lecture notes. However, he noticed with satisfaction that Julia was using her messenger bag. The thought pleased him a great deal.
The rest of the graduate students, including Christa, looked from Julia to The Professor and back again about three or four times. It was almost like watching a volley at Wimbledon.
Julia sat in her usual chair next to Paul and immediately adopted a deferential posture.
“Don’t be nervous. He’s been in a good mood all week. I don’t think he’ll bother you today.” Paul leaned in closely, far too closely, to whisper in her ear. “He must have gotten laid last weekend, more than once.”
Professor Emerson coughed loudly at the front of the room until Paul moved away from Julia.
For her part, Julia was flustered over Paul’s remark. She kept her head down, writing copious notes in her notebook. It was a good distraction, for it stopped her from thinking about Saturday morning and what Gabriel looked like under his clothes, wet from the shower, dropping a small, purple towel…
The Professor barely looked at her and never called on her to comment or to answer a question. In sum, the lecture was a colossal disappointment from an entertainment perspective and left more than one graduate student wanting. Christa, however, was delighted that the course of the universe had finally corrected itself and all was (almost) as it should be.
“You are all invited to the lecture I will be delivering on lust in Dante’s Inferno at Victoria College on Friday afternoon at three o’clock. I’ll see you next week. Class dismissed.” The Professor quickly packed up his things and exited the seminar room without so much as a backward glance.
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Paul leaned over to Julia. “Can I walk you home? We could grab some Thai food on the way.”
“It would be nice for you to walk me home. But I’m probably going to work right through dinner. And there’s something I need to tell you…”
P
On Friday morning, Julia stood in the entrance to her rather small closet wondering what she should wear. She knew that Gabriel would not be pleased when he saw her sitting with Paul. She knew that she would be meeting Gabriel at his apartment later that evening and sleeping over. She had already packed her messenger bag in preparation for her visit.
She wanted to make a good impression. She wanted Gabriel to notice her amongst all the other women and think that she looked pretty, so for the first time that semester, Julia decided to dress up for school. She wore a black dress with black opaque stockings and knee-length, high-heeled, black leather boots that Rachel had persuaded her to buy a few years ago. She wore simple jewelry — pearl stud earrings that had belonged to her Grandma Mitchell — and she wrapped a dark purple pashmina around her neck, fearful that her modest cleavage would turn out to be too much for a daytime lecture.
Julia and Paul were almost the first to arrive at the large lecture hall. They quickly chose seats near the back, on the aisle, so as not to be too conspicuous. Faculty members usually took the best seats near the front, and graduate students would not dare to meddle with that convention.
As soon as Julia stepped into the room she felt his presence. A strange tension hummed between them, even at a distance. She felt his eyes on her too, and knew that he was staring. She knew that his stare would quickly morph into a scowl. A sly glance to the front of the room confirmed her suspicions. He was glaring at Paul as he placed a hand to her lower back, guiding her to their seats.
Gabriel gave Julia a quick half-smile as his eyes raked over her form, resting a beat too long on the heels of her boots. Turning away, he continued his conversation with one of the other professors.
Julia took a few moments to admire Gabriel’s appearance. He was breathtaking, as usual, dressed in a very handsome black Armani suit with a white French-cuffed shirt and a black silk tie. He was wearing his glasses
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and a pair of black dress shoes that, mercifully, were not pointy. Surprisingly, however, he wore a vest under his suit, and as his jacket was unbuttoned, Julia saw the fob of a gold watch dangling from one of the buttons of his vest, with the chain leading to a pocket.
“Look at him. A vest and a pocket watch?” muttered Paul, shaking his head. “How old is this guy? I bet he has a personal portrait in his attic that’s aging rather rapidly.”
Julia smothered a smile, but said nothing.
“Do you know what he had me do yesterday?”
She shook her head.
“I had to pack some of his precious pens in a crate, insure it, and ship it to a fountain pen infirmary. Can you believe that?”
“What’s a fountain pen infirmary?”
“Some repair shop for sick fountain pens that caters to even sicker fuckers who have way too much money. And too much time on their hands. Or in their pockets.”
Julia snickered and switched off her cell phone.
P
Having recovered from the swine flu, Professor Jeremy H. Martin, the chair of Italian Studies, welcomed a crowd of about one hundred people and offered a glowing description of Professor Emerson’s research and accomplishments. Julia watched as Gabriel shifted uncomfortably in his chair, as if all the high praise and fine words displeased him. His eyes found hers, and she smiled encouragingly. She watched as his shoulders visibly relaxed.
Professor Martin was proud of Professor Emerson, and he had no qualms about making that fact known. To him, Gabriel had been one of the most promising hires of the Department and had truly lived up to his potential. He’d been tenured early on the strength of the publication of his first book by Oxford University Press, and was well on his way to becoming another Katherine Picton. Or so Professor Martin hoped.
After a thinnish round of applause, Gabriel took center stage, spreading his notes on the lectern and double-checking the readiness of his PowerPoint presentation. He took a moment to scan the crowd — Professor Martin was smiling in anticipation, Miss Peterson had slithered forward and was slyly
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fingering her plunging neckline, while his faculty colleagues sat quietly, seemingly interested in the topic of his lecture.
One striking exception was seated in the very front row. This professor had no interest in his research or his academic prowess. No, her interests were far more profligate, and it seemed to Gabriel that she was flaunting them now, her pink tongue darting out to moisten crimson lips. She was twisted. Predatory. And Gabriel was made very uncomfortable by the fact that she was staring at him with serpentine eyes, while sitting in the same room as Julia. He knew that his past lurked around every corner, but God help him if the two women ever met.
Dragging his eyes away from the blond professor, he forced a smile at the audience. He quickly sought out Julia’s pretty face and drew strength from her warm expression, and then he began.
“The title of my lecture is Lust in Dante’s Inferno: The Deadly Sin against the Self. Immediately, one might wonder why lust would be a sin against the self since it is always directed toward another — the use of another human being for personal, sexual gratification.”
A muffled snort reached Gabriel’s ears from the front row, but he ignored it, his reaction telegraphed by a noticeable tightening of his expression.
“Dante’s notions of sin are shaped largely by the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas. In his famous Summa Theologiae, Aquinas argues that any evil action or sin is a form of self-destruction. He assumes that human beings have a nature that is supposed to be rational and good. Aquinas conceives of this nature, that of the rational animal, as being created by God specifically to pursue goodness, more specifically, the virtues.
“When a human being departs from this natural purpose, she injures herself, for she does what she was not intended to do. She wars against herself and her nature.”
Miss Peterson leaned forward, as if she were paying rapt attention.
“Why does Aquinas hold this peculiar view of sin?
“One reason is because he accepts Boethius’ assertion that goodness and being are convertible. In other words, anything that exists has some goodness in it because God made it. And no matter how marred or broken or sinful that being is, it still maintains some goodness so long as it exists.”
Gabriel pressed a button, and his first slide appeared on the screen to his left. Julia recognized it as Botticelli’s illustration of Lucifer.
“According to this view, no one, not even Lucifer encased in ice at the bottom of Dante’s Inferno, is wholly evil. Evil can only feed off of goodness
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like a parasite; if all the goodness of a creature were eliminated, the creature in question would no longer exist.”
Gabriel felt a pair of cunning eyes fixate on him, mocking him and his silly recognition of concepts so bourgeois as good and evil.
He cleared his throat. “It’s a foreign way of thinking to many of us — the idea that even a fallen angel condemned to live out his days in the Inferno has some goodness left in him.” His eyes wandered over to Julia’s where they rested just long enough for her to see something pleading in them. “Goodness that begs to be recognized, despite the fallen angel’s sad and desperate addiction to sin.”
Another Botticelli illustration, one of Dante and Beatrice and the fixed stars of Paradise, was displayed on the screen. Julia recognized it as the same scene Gabriel had showed her from his private collection.
“Against the backdrop of good and evil, consider the characters of Dante and Beatrice. They have a relationship that typifies courtly love. In the context of The Divine Comedy, Beatrice is connected with Virgil. She appeals to him to guide her beloved Dante through Hell because she is unable to travel there, owing to her permanent residence in Paradise. In making the connection between Beatrice and Virgil, Dante is expressing his notion that courtly love is tied to reason rather than passion.”
At the mention of Beatrice, Julia began to fidget, keeping her face down lest it give anything away. Paul noticed her movements and misreading them, took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. They were seated too far away for Gabriel to see what was going on, but he observed that Paul had turned toward Julia, his hand disappearing near her lap. The sight distracted him momentarily.
He coughed, and Julia’s eyes flew to his as she hastily withdrew her hand.
“But what of lust? If love is the rabbit, then lust is the wolf. Dante says so explicitly when he identifies lust as a sin of wolf-like incontinence — a sin in which passion overtakes reason.”
At this remark, Christa slid to the very edge of her seat, leaning forward just enough so that her cleavage was visible from the podium. Unfortunately for her, Gabriel was too busy posting the next slide, Rodin’s sculpture Le Baisir, to notice.
“Dante places Paolo and Francesca in the Circle of the Lustful. Surprisingly, the story of their downfall is linked with the courtly love tradition. At the time of their lustful indulgence, they were engaged in reading about the adultery between Lancelot and Queen Guinevere.” Gabriel grinned
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mischievously. “Perhaps this was the medieval equivalent of porn-fuelled foreplay.”
Polite laughter echoed across the lecture hall.
“In the case of Paolo and Francesca, passion overtook reason, which should have told them that since one of them was joined to another, they should keep their hands to themselves.”
Gabriel glared meaningfully at Paul. But Paul thought the glare was directed elsewhere, possibly to Julia or one of the women sitting in front of him, so he did nothing. At Paul’s lack of reaction, Gabriel’s blue eyes grew green like a dragon’s. All that was lacking from his display was the breathing of fire.
“Perhaps this is similar to the proprietary relationship that exists between a couple when they are courting. If someone else were to start indulging in some of the special delights that should be reserved for the courting couple, no doubt anger and jealousy would result.” Gabriel’s voice grew sharp.
Julia flinched and shifted slightly to her left, away from Paul.
“But the fact that Dante sees in Lancelot and Guinevere and Paolo and Francesca a corruption of the courtly love tradition shows that he recognizes the very real dangers facing his attachment to Beatrice. If Dante’s passion were to overtake his reason, it would ruin their lives and expose them to scandal. So the fate of Paolo and Francesca is a very personal warning to Dante for him to keep his affection for Beatrice chaste. Which is no easy task given her great beauty and allurements, and the depth and degree of his desire for her.”
Julia blushed.
“Let me be clear, despite the fact that they were separated from one another for years, Dante aches for her. He wants her, and he wants all of her. His chastity is made all the more virtuous because of the strength and desperation of his desire.”
While he paused, the serpentine eyes followed Gabriel’s gaze back to Julia before making eye contact with him. He glared in response and continued.
“In Dante’s philosophy, lust is a misplaced love, but a kind of love nonetheless. For this reason, it is the least evil of the seven deadly sins, and that is why Dante locates the Circle of the Lustful just underneath Limbo. Lust deals with the greatest of earthly pleasures…”
Gabriel’s eyes darted in Julia’s direction, and she stared back at him, transfixed.
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“Sex is properly understood to be not only physical, but spiritual — an ecstatic union of two bodies and two souls, meant to mimic the joy and ecstasy of union with the Divine in Paradise. Two bodies joined together in pleasure. Two souls joined through the connection between two bodies and the whole-hearted, enthusiastic, selfless giving of the entire self.”
Julia tried not to squirm in her seat as she recalled how she felt the other night when Gabriel’s mouth sucked her fingers, one by one, cleaning them of chocolate cake. The room began to feel more than a little warm, and several people shifted in their seats.
“It’s pedantic perhaps to point out that if one holds back and doesn’t give one’s entire self during intercourse, orgasm will be eluded. The result is tension, frustration, and an unhappy partner. The moment of orgasm is a foretaste of absolute transcendence and wholehearted, rapturous pleasure. The kind of pleasure in which all of one’s deepest urges and longings are wholly and heart-stoppingly satisfied.”
Gabriel smiled to himself as Julia crossed and uncrossed her legs, reveling in her reaction as he paused to take a sip of water.
“The idea of shared orgasm, one partner’s ecstasy tripping the other’s, highlights the shared intimacy of physical and spiritual union. Panting, twisting, touching, yearning, giving, and finally and most gloriously, coming.”
Gabriel paused as he struggled not to gaze at Julia, and thus draw attention to her flushed and downcast face. He cleared his throat and smirked slightly. “Does anyone feel faint?”
Cheerful but reserved laughter echoed around the hall, and Christa lifted her hair away from her neck and fanned herself with a copy of Gabriel’s book.
“I believe my words have illustrated Dante’s thesis, namely, that lust is powerful enough to distract the mind, which is the faculty of reason, and prompt it to focus on earthly, carnal concerns rather than rising above to contemplate the heavenly concerns, namely, God. No doubt some of you would rather be rushing home to your lover’s embrace than remaining here to listen to the rest of my dry lecture.”
He chuckled, absolutely ignoring the professor in the front row who exposed a small but obscene object from her purse in order to taunt him.
“In contrast to lust, which is a mortal sin, is love. Aquinas argues that a lover is related to his beloved as if his beloved were a part of himself.”
At this, Gabriel’s expression softened and a sweet smile spread across his face.
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“The joys and beauty of sexual intimacy, expressed in the unifying act of sexual intercourse, are the natural outgrowth of love. In this case, as should be clear, sex is not identical with lust. Hence the modern distinction made in contemporary parlance between, forgive my vulgarity, fucking and making love. But sex is not identical with love either, as the courtly love tradition demonstrates. One can love one’s friend chastely and passionately without engaging in sexual intercourse with her.
“In Dante’s Paradiso, lust is transformed into charity, the truest, purest manifestation of love. In Paradise, the soul is free from longing, for all her desires are satisfied, and she is filled with joy. She no longer has guilt over her previous sins but enjoys absolute freedom and fulfillment. However, time prevents me from giving a more complete discussion of Paradise.
“In Dante’s Divine Comedy, we find the dichotomy of lust and charity and a powerful manifestation of the chastity of courtly love, as typified by the relationship between Dante and Beatrice. This ideal of courtly love is perhaps best expressed in the words of Beatrice, herself, ‘Apparuit iam beatitudo vestra.’ That is, ‘Now your blessedness appears.’ Truer words were never spoken. Thank you.”
The lecture hall erupted in polite applause and low murmurings of approval. The Professor then began to field questions from the audience. In typical fashion, full time faculty members were the first to speak, while graduate students waited patiently for their turn.
(For Academia, like Europe in the Middle Ages, was organized under a class system.)
Julia sat very still, trying to absorb what she thought she’d heard during Gabriel’s lecture. She was repeating some of his more profound statements to herself when Paul leaned over to whisper in her ear.
“Watch this. Emerson is going to ignore Christa.”
From their vantage point, they couldn’t see Christa’s cleavage (which was a mercy). She was still leaning forward, now with her hand in the air, trying to gain The Professor’s attention. He seemed to pass over her deliberately, pointing at other questioners and offering reasoned responses. Eventually, Professor Martin stood up in order to indicate that question period had come to an end. Only then did Christa lower her hand, a scowl darkening her fine features.
Another round of applause was given and received, and Gabriel stepped off the platform. He was greeted immediately by an average-sized brunette,
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who looked like she was a professor in her mid to late thirties. The two shook hands.
Paul snorted. “Did you see that? He wasn’t going to allow Christa to ask a question in an open forum. He’s worried she’ll stand up and throw her bra at him, or hold up an ‘I heart Emerson’ poster.”
Julia giggled and watched as the brunette professor chatted with Gabriel before stepping aside to speak to someone else.
“I was surprised no one corrected Emerson on his mistake.” Paul scratched at his sideburns thoughtfully.
“What mistake?”
“He attributed ‘Apparuit iam beatitudo vestra’ to Beatrice, but we all know it was Dante. He says those words in the second section of La Vita Nuova, when he meets Beatrice for the first time.”
Julia knew this, of course, but would never have commented on it. So she remained silent.
Paul shrugged. “I’m sure it was a slip of the tongue. He can quote those texts from memory in Italian and English. I just thought it was funny that Professor Perfect made a very public mistake and no one corrected him.” He chuckled to himself. “Maybe that was why Christa put up her hand.”
Julia nodded. She knew that Gabriel’s error had been intentional. But she would tell no one, especially not Paul.
His eyes passed over her admiringly. “You look pretty today. You always look pretty, but today you’re just — glowing.” His face morphed into a serious expression. “I hope I’m not stepping on your boyfriend’s toes by telling you that. What was his name again?”
“Owen.”
“Well, I can see it in your eyes. You’re obviously glad to be back together with him. After weeks of seeing you sad, I’m happy that you’re happy.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“So why the dress?”
She peered around the room. “I didn’t know if people dressed up for these occasions. I knew all the professors would be here, and I wanted to look nice.”
Paul laughed. “Most academic women don’t care about fashion.” He shook his head and gently touched her hand. “I hope your ex treats you right this time. Or I’ll have to go to Philadelphia and kick his ass.”
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At this point, Julia was only half-listening as she saw a petite blond professor greet Gabriel with a kiss on both cheeks.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise.
And you gave me a hard time about Paul, Professor. I thought we weren’t sharing…
Paul muttered something under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Well, the lecture was great. You can see why I came here to work with him.” Paul glanced meaningfully at Gabriel. “But look at them.”
As if on cue, the blond threw her head back and laughed uproariously, while Emerson gave her a tight smile. She was less than five feet tall, with flaxen hair that was pulled back tightly into a severe-looking bun. She wore Armani glasses that were both squarish and red and an expensive-looking black suit highlighted by a tight pencil skirt that barely grazed her knees. Julia noted also that the woman wore black pumps that were very high and fishnet stockings that would have netted only the tiniest of fish.
The woman was beautiful, but she seemed rather out of place amongst all of the other professional academics. And there was something about her presence that was decidedly aggressive.
“That’s Professor Singer.” Paul grimaced.
“The blonde?”
“Yes. The dark-haired woman to her left is Professor Leaming. She’s great. You need to meet her. But stay away from Singer. She’s a dragon lady.”
Julia’s stomach flipped as she watched Professor Singer grip Gabriel’s forearm in a far too familiar fashion, digging her talons into his suit jacket while she stood on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear. His expression remained utterly impassive.
“Why do you say that?” Julia asked.
“Have you seen her website?”
“No.”
“Consider yourself lucky. You’d be shocked by what she’s in to. They call her Professor Pain.”
Julia reluctantly dragged her eyes away from the sickening display that was The Professors Pain and Emerson show and began wringing her hands. She wondered if Professor Pain’s first name was Paulina.
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Disgusted by the display, she grabbed her coat and stood up. “I guess it’s time for us to leave.”
“I’ll walk you home.” Paul chivalrously helped her with her coat.
They left their seats and were just about to walk toward the exit when Professor Martin, the chair of Italian Studies, caught Paul’s eye, motioning him to come over.
“I’ll just be a minute. Wait for me.”
Julia sat back down, fingering her coat buttons as a distraction.
Gabriel wasn’t looking at her at all, and from his body language she suspected that he was avoiding her. Paul had a brief exchange with the chair before turning around and pointing in her direction. The chair nodded and patted Paul on the back. By the time he returned, Paul was beaming.
“Well, you’ll never guess what that was about.”
Julia lifted her eyebrows.
“We’ve been invited to the faculty dinner in honor of Emerson’s lecture.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. Apparently, there’s money in the budget to buy dinner for a couple of graduate students, and the chair decided to invite me. When I told him I was here with you, he invited you to come as my guest.” He winked at her. “Poor Christa isn’t on the list. Looks like this is your lucky day.”
At that moment, Gabriel’s eyes met Julia’s from behind Paul’s back. Gabriel was upset, angry even, and he was shaking his head at her. His eyes flicked over to Paul and back to her, and again he shook his head.
Julia pursed her lips stubbornly. How can Gabriel be jealous of Paul when Professor Pain is all over him? Talk about a double standard.
“We don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.” Paul cleared his throat. “I know Emerson has been a jerk to you. You probably don’t want to celebrate his latest success over paella.”
“It would be rude to turn down the invitation when it came from the chair,” Julia said slowly.
“You’re probably right. I promise we’ll have fun. We’re going to Segovia, which is a great restaurant. But dinner isn’t until seven. Would you like to go to Starbucks? Or somewhere else?” Paul extended his hand to help her to her feet.
“Starbucks is fine.”
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Within a few minutes of exiting the building, Julia finally found the courage to ask a question that had been troubling her.
“Do you know Professor Singer well?” She tried to sound casual.
“No. I stay away from her.” Paul cursed more than once. “I wish I could unsee the e-mails she sent to Emerson. They’re burned into my brain.”
“What’s her first name?”
“Ann.”
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