Chapter Six
“Hey, Dr. Janison,” I called as I flagged her down with my hand. “Good morning. Those are some kick-ass shoes.”
Dr. Janison was my favorite professor at Waterford, and not just because she knew a damn fine Jimmy Choo when she saw one. I loved her teaching style too. She knew how to make Early British Literature interesting when I was not a fan of that particular period in the least.
She gave me a vague nod. “Good morning,” she said in that polite, distant way that told me she didn’t know I was one of her students. Then she glanced at her pumps. “And thank you.”
I was opening my mouth to explain which class of hers I attended when she glanced toward Mason and instantly paled.
Face blanched of all color, she skipped a step back as if she was about to take flight in her four-
