Read His for Now (His #2) for Free Online

tide him over for the time being, but we need to come up with the cash ASAP.  How are things coming on your end? I’ll email you what you need tonight.
    Clancy
    A second email from Clancy that I came across was even stranger than the first.  It was dated the same day, but the time stamp showed it had been sent a few hours later.  Copy and pasted into the body of the email was a lengthy publication and chart.  It appeared to be data from the college’s accounting department and was marked with the word “CONFIDENTIAL” in big bold letters at the top. 
    It was clear I was looking at sensitive financial information about the department’s budget…information I shouldn’t be seeing.  I knew for a fact that sessional lecturers like Mark and me had no business seeing those sorts of documents.  As a matter of fact, I wasn’t even certain Clancy was privy to that sort of information.   What was going on?
    What I found wasn’t enough to help me discredit Mark, but it was enough to arouse my suspicion.  Something didn’t seem right.  I just wished I knew what was going on.  Time was running out.
    That Tuesday evening, I got word that the dean of the university was making an important announcement.  My colleagues and I filed down to the large basketball court where it was being held and sat on the bleachers, waiting expectantly.  I drummed my fingers against my thigh nervously, knowing that when an impromptu meeting was called, the news was rarely good.
    The expression on the dean’s face when he walked out to the podium was grim.  He scanned the faces in the crowd, his posture stooped.  He looked older than his years and very, very tired. 
    “We’ve just finished crunching the numbers for our budget going forward,” he announced, getting straight to the point.  At least he wasn’t the sort of guy who made us sit through a bunch of nonsense.  He was the straightforward type who didn’t waste your time.  I admired that about him…but what he said next didn’t sit so well with me.
    “ Our accountants have detected a severe deficit in the college’s expense claims,” he informed us.  “It’s unfathomable that this has happened.  We’re redoing the numbers now to ensure that nothing was missed, but the outlook right now is bleak.”
    A murmur went up amongst my colleagues.  I swallowed hard, feeling dazed.
    The dean regarded us sadly.  “It’s looking as though we’re going to have to make some massive, unanticipated budget cuts going forward.  It appears there has been some mismanagement and overspending.  I can assure you an investigation is forthcoming, but that’s not what I’m here to speak to you about today.  Unfortunately, I’m here to discuss job cuts.”
    Gasps and whispers filled the room.  I saw a young guy from the student newspaper scribbling on his notepad madly.  A number of professors and sessional instructors had expressions of utter dismay on their faces as they looked at one another in disbelief.
    The dean cleared his throat before continuing.  “I’ll have more information about this soon but I wanted to let everyone know immediately what the situation is.  As usual, seniority will take priority when it comes to deciding who stays and who will be let go.  Those of you with contract positions may wish to start looking elsewhere as most contracts will not be renewed due to a lack of funds.  I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”
    So, that meant my job was probably done for.  I felt sick.
    Later t hat night, I got a phone call from an old college friend.  Mina Sinclair had sat in the desk beside mine back in first year Sociology.  We’d become study partners over the years and she’d even gone to graduate school with Mark and me. 
    When Mina had gotten pregnant, she’d dropped out of the program to do the single mom thing.  Mark had scoffed about it disdainfully and whispered to me that she should have married the father or had an abortion, but I