"Dean Sinclair is ready for you now, Mr. Blake," the receptionist announced.
Ethan stood up and straightened his jacket, feeling the adrenaline return.
"Please, wait here," the receptionist told Jason as Ethan walked past. Jason nodded, settling back into a chair, his expression instantly becoming a granite mask of patience.
Ethan stepped through the door and found himself in a spacious, executive office bathed in soft, natural light. The room was modern but warm, lined with books and awards.
Behind a large mahogany desk sat Alexandria Sinclair.
Ethan stopped, momentarily stunned. The dean had far exceeded his aesthetic expectations. Alexandria was a spectacular woman.
She appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties, with striking dark hair pulled back severely, which only highlighted her sharp features.
