Beyond the Ivory Tower (15 page)

EPILOGUE

 

 

Three years later…

 

Anna sat on a couch in the improvised green room, nestled in the crook of Ethan’s shoulder. She shivered slightly as his fingers traced the faint scar along her upper arm. Six months of physical therapy, another surgery to remove the hardware, and she’d been able to slowly ease back into her usual exercise routine. These days, her strength and range of motion were pretty much back to baseline. There was only an occasional twinge to remind her of the injury. The nightmares were another story, and persisted for months after the physical symptoms abated. In her sleep, she relived the same events over and over, knowing what was about to happen, but powerless to stop it. She saw her student falling, felt the bite of the bullet as she bent over him. Each time she awakened in a cold sweat, grateful to be alive, wracked with guilt over the fact that her student had been less fortunate. She and Ethan had attended his memorial service shortly after she’d been discharged from the hospital.

Keeping busy helped. Anna rarely had a free moment to dwell on the past. Especially lately.

Several feet away, Colette finished checking her makeup in a compact mirror. She snapped it shut and tucked it into her bag. “Last chance to change your mind.”

“Thanks,” Anna said, “but I’m fine.”

An assistant popped her head in the door. “It’s time.”

Colette nodded and followed her out. Seconds later, her image appeared on the backstage monitor. The audience quickly settled down, and Colette launched into her introduction.

“I’d like to welcome you all to the seventh annual Talbot Fellowship summit. We have some very exciting speakers lined up for you today. Usually we open with a few words from our program founder, Ethan Talbot. This year, however, we decided to change things up a little. Our keynote address will be delivered by the woman whom many of you may know as Ethan Talbot’s better half.”

There was a ripple of laughter, right on cue.

“Professor Anna Lazarev,” Colette continued, “holds the Broussard/Conroy Chair in Applied Mathematics at UCLA. She is a Fellow in the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and a recipient of the Fermat Prize. She is also the director of the Talbot/Lazarev Initiative, which started as an outgrowth of the Talbot Fellowship, but has taken on a life of its own.”

Ethan squeezed her hand. “You sure you’re okay to do this?”

“Of course,” Anna said. “I just need a little help up.”

As Ethan rose and helped Anna to her feet, Colette wrapped up her introduction. “Please put your hands together for Dr. Anna Lazarev.”

Anna smiled and walked slowly across the stage, ignoring the nagging ache in her low to mid-back that had started sometime during the night. She still had five weeks until her due date. Besides, everyone knew that first babies tended to arrive late.

At the podium, she paused for a moment to look out at the sea of faces, some new, but many familiar to her from her last few years of involvement with Ethan’s work.

There was Klara, sitting in the first row, giving her the thumbs-up. Klara was part of the Talbot/Lazarev Initiative’s inaugural class. With a year of college beneath her belt, and two years of developing her own startup under the auspices of her Talbot mentor, she was working on finishing her degree—while scaling up production and distribution of her start-up’s applications.

Becca and Leo sat beside her, holding hands. It had taken them considerable time and effort to stop circling around each other and make a commitment, but Anna was glad to see that her instincts had been spot on.

The applause died down. Anna took a deep breath—or at least as deep a breath as possible, given her condition—and started speaking.

“A few years ago,” she said, “shortly after my husband and I met, we made a deal. Ethan promised to fund several college scholarships in exchange for my agreement to mentor a few of his Talbot Fellows. Ethan believed so strongly in his mission—to provide an alternative route to success for some of our smartest, most entrepreneurial students—that he was willing to pay me to experience his program first-hand.

“For those of you who didn’t know me at the time, let me just say that I was dead set against the idea of anyone dropping out of school. For any reason.

“As a university professor, I felt that Ethan’s criticism of the way we educate our students was a direct attack on me. And, like much of the academic establishment, I believed that the Talbot Fellowship posed an imminent threat to the very foundation of our secondary education system. So when Ethan asked for my cooperation, it was a bit like having a preacher invite an atheist to a church revival meeting.

“But Ethan refused to be put off. Just as proponents of green energy advocate for a transition from fossil fuel to something cleaner and more sustainable for the benefit of future generations, Ethan had a vision for transforming the future of education into a more affordable, flexible, and streamlined process for our children.

“He was betting on my falling in love with the idea, and then turning around and helping him spread the message. As most of you probably know, Ethan can be very persuasive.”

She waited for the laughter to subside before continuing.

“The result is an innovative partnership between the Talbot Foundation, a collaborative of Fortune 500 corporate sponsors, and several of California’s top universities. This initiative offers qualifying students the opportunity to earn college credit while gaining practical work experience in STEM fields. While it’s still in the early stages—an experiment, if you will—I believe it has the potential to revolutionize how we as a society approach education.

“The Talbot Fellowship remains an integral part of this experiment. Today, as we begin the seventh year of the program, I want to take the opportunity to welcome you all, and to remind you of the critical role you play in this process. We look to all of you—the current and former Talbot Fellows—to help lead the way toward a brighter future. A future in which knowledge continues to empower and improve all of our lives, as well as the lives of our children, and our children’s children.”

The ache in her back intensified, spreading to her belly. She gripped the podium, barely managing to stay upright. She gritted her teeth and breathed through the pain.

“While we’re on the subject of children,” she said, glancing toward the wings, “I think this one is angling for an early appearance…”

Pandemonium erupted as Ethan burst onto the stage, closely followed by Leo, who sprang up from his seat in the front row and clambered up toward the podium.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ethan demanded, wrapping an arm around her and easing her into a chair that someone had managed to shove behind her just in time.

“I just did,” she panted.

“I’m calling 911,” Leo said, already dialing. “Legs crossed, Anush, okay?”

“Don’t you mean fingers crossed?” Ethan said.

“No,” Leo said, pausing to give a series of rapid-fire instructions by phone, before turning back to Anna. “There’s a reason I chose orthopedic surgery. And it’s not because I had a burning desire to deliver babies. Haven’t done it since med school, and I’m hoping you’re not going to make me do it today. So try to hold off a bit longer, okay?”

“Doing my best,” she said, clutching Ethan’s hand hard enough to make him wince.

Toward the rear of the auditorium, a scuffle broke out, temporarily diverting Anna’s attention. Security personnel closed in on a man wielding a long lens camera.

Anna sighed.
Here we go again
. The paparazzi’s fascination with Ethan’s personal life had petered out sometime after the wedding—only to flare back to life when Anna’s pregnancy started showing. Apparently, bump watching was a popular sport in L.A. Anna managed to shrug off the renewed tabloid interest. The fact that she was so busy helped, as did the additional security staff Ethan hired.

Another wave of pain pushed all thoughts of paparazzi aside.

Twenty minutes later, Anna was at the hospital, getting hooked up to a fetal monitor. Ethan didn’t leave her side while the labor and delivery staff circled around her, drawing blood, running IV fluids, doing an ultrasound.

The contractions slowed, and eventually stopped.

“You were dehydrated,” the ob/gyn said. “And you have a urinary tract infection. We’re running the first dose of antibiotics through the IV. Are you sure you didn’t experience any symptoms like fever or flank pain? Maybe some burning with urination? Urgency, frequency?”

“Junior’s sitting on my bladder,” she said. “I thought the urgency and frequency were normal. But the flank pain? That didn’t start until last night.”

Ethan frowned. “You didn’t tell me. I would never have agreed to let you do the speech if I’d known.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you,” Anna said. “I knew you’d be unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable?” Ethan narrowed his eyes. “You think it’s unreasonable that I want to protect my wife and child from unnecessary risks?”

“Alrighty then,” the ob/gyn interrupted. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

“Sorry.” Anna glanced at the doctor. “We really appreciate your help. When do you think I can go home?”

“We’ll monitor you for another few hours, Mrs. Talbot. Make sure those contractions don’t come back. Assuming all stays quiet, you’ll get a prescription for some antibiotics to continue after discharge. Try to stay well hydrated. You’ll need to follow up with your regular OB in the next couple of days. And obviously if you have any recurrent contractions or worrisome symptoms, come back sooner. We’re here twenty-four/seven.”

He left, and for several minutes the only sound in the room was the rhythmic whoosh of the fetal monitor.

Anna rested her hand atop her belly, reassured by the movement she felt beneath her palm. Ethan stroked a thumb across her knuckles. “I’m sorry if you think I overreacted.”

She cocked her head. “Was that supposed to be an apology?”

“If you like.” His lips quirked. “You know I love you, Mrs. Talbot.”

“I love you too, Mr. Lazarev.”

Beneath their joined hands, the baby kicked again.

Ethan’s dimples flashed. “You’re not going to slow down and take it easy, are you? No matter what I say.”

“I can’t speak for Junior,” Anna said. “But me? Slow down? Not a chance.”

“That’s what I thought.” He leaned down, stopping when his lips were a hairbreadth above hers. “I can be pretty persuasive.”

She smiled at having her own words tossed back at her. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

“And persistent.”

“Mm-hm,” she murmured. “Me too.”

“A perfect match.”

“Perfect,” she agreed, just before his mouth covered hers.

 

 

~
The End
~

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

 

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Beyond the Ivory Tower
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LOOKING FOR MORE BY JILL BLAKE?

The Santa Monica Trilogy:

Without a Net
(Book 1)
~ Eva & Max

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Balancing Act
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The Doctors of Rittenhouse Square Trilogy:

Pursued by the Playboy
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Taking a Chance
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This Time for Keeps
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Without a Net

(The Santa Monica Trilogy, Book 1)

 

By JILL BLAKE

 

Eva Landry has always played it safe…and where has it gotten her?
Betrayed by her husband, left alone to raise her young son, and struggling to keep head above water, the last thing she needs is another philandering male.

 

Max Palmer has always pursued adventure…until he’s sidelined by an accident.
While recovering from his injuries, he discovers that the biggest adventure of his life may be closer than he ever imagined—in the form of Eva, his baby sister’s best friend.

 

The problem?
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