said.
âNot according to your footnotes. Iâm familiar with those sources. Many of them contradict what youâve written.â
âMaybe you should have cross-checked them,â she snapped. âThey support my argument.â
âYour argument is that no one knows what happened in the early Middle Ages except you.â
âIâm not the first scholar to say that what remains from that period is open to interpretation.â
âBut you are the first to say that an entire system of apprenticeship existed in the non-Christian religions.â
âI didnât call them a religion!â
âWhich is another flaw!â
They had both raised their voices. She took a step closer to him. What an arrogant idiot he was. She had read his credentials in the course guide over pizza the night before. His specialty was world history from 1600 to the present day. He had no right to criticize her.
She took a deep breath. All of her friends had warned her at various points in her life that her temper flared too quickly. She didnât need to lose it in front of her department chairman, not during their first meeting.
âIt was the Christian Church that labeled a lot of those practices as religion,â she said as calmly as she could. âThe church was working on converting people who had never heard of it. The record is biased toward that conversion.â
âHistory is always written by the winners.â
âDo you always speak in cliches or is this something youâre just doing for my benefit?â
His blue eyes flashed. âIâm not planning to do anything that will benefit you, Professor Lost.â
She straightened her shoulders. She was dangerously close to losing her temper. That last sarcastic sentence was the first sign that she was about to lose control. She had to hold onto it. If she got mad, he would never forget it. People who were on the receiving end of her wrath never did.
âIâm not asking you to do anything to benefit me,â she said softly.
He flattened his hands on his desk. âIâm in charge of the hirings and firings here, and frankly, Iâm not pleased with anything about you.â
She crossed her arms. âYouâre not in charge of hiring or firing. The university has committees for that.â
âCommittees that take the recommendation of the department heads very seriously.â He leaned toward her. âYouâre a fraud, Professor Lost. You make up your research and then go on the History Channel pretending to be a real historian.â
âI am the most real historian youâll ever have in this department,â she snapped. âI know more about primary research than all of your colleagues put together.â
âDo you?â he asked, his voice even softer. Somehow it sounded more menacing that way.
She swallowed, wishing she could take back the words. Of course she had done more primary research than the rest of them. She had lived in that time period. She knew what she had written was fact. The rest of them were guessing.
âYes,â she said, âI do.â
âThen why donât you cite more primary sources in your book?â
âIâve cited enough for every other scholar in the world, Professor Found. England in the early Middle Ages is not your time period. Why donât you trust the people who specialize in the area?â
He smiled then, and the beauty of the expression caught her even though she wanted to slap him. âI do specialize in the area, Professor Lost.â
âNot according to your write up in all the college guidelines,â she said, then flushed. She hadnât wanted him to know that she was checking up on him.
He raised his eyebrows as if the comment amused him. âThose were written when I was hired. For the last five years, Iâve changed specialties. I just came from England. Iâve been studying the Dark