Teacher's Pet Complete Series Page 2

  I cracked a smile.

  “See!” Bobbi pointed. “I knew I could get you to smile. Look, girl, it’s never as serious as you make it out to be, I promise you. You have to learn to roll with the punches, you know? Duck and dodge.” She punched in the air. “There are plenty of jobs out there. You already have one under your belt, so getting another one would be cake.”

  I opened the door to my room and stuck my head in first. Bobbi tried to walk past me, but I stopped her in her tracks. It was necessary. I had to make sure my roommate wasn’t there, since she had the awful habit of walking around naked or being in the company of men who liked their penises swinging free. “The coast is clear; come on in.”

  Bobbi shook her head. “You’re a strange bird, you know that?”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that before; it’s no secret.”

  As soon as Bobbi walked in, she started inspecting the place. It was what she did. Besides, being an heiress to a retail empire, she was also an incredible interior decorator. “Oh, this will never work, girlfriend. You need my help, like seriously.” She picked up some random items, held them between her fingers for a moment and dropped them in disgust. With her hands resting on her hips, she turned around in the center of the room. “I think I know why you’ve never let me in here.”

  “I think I know why, too.” I shook my head. “But you can berate my room décor later. We’re going to be late for work if we don’t get moving.”

  “What the heck is this?” She sauntered over to the corner between the dresser and the window to an old-fashioned four-panel room divider. It was a Japanese-style divider with frosted paper panels, encased by a cherry wood frame. “Where did you get this? IKEA?”

  “Actually, it was my mother’s. She gave it to me just in case I happened to get a roommate like Sonja. It’s for privacy when I get dressed in the mornings.”

  “I know what it’s for, Lynn. I just haven’t seen one outside of the movies. Hmm.” She ran her fingers across it and walked behind it. Her silhouette became a shadow through the panes. “I guess it does have some appeal. It’s kind of sexy, actually. I might have to buy one and tease Jay with it sometime. You know how he hates being teased. Poor man is all stop and go, with no gears in between. If he wasn’t so damn good to me, I’d dump him.” I peeked out to see her devilish smile.

  “You’re crazy.” I laughed. “Jay isn’t going anywhere and neither are you. Now, is your highness done with her critique yet? I wouldn’t want to rush you or anything.”

  Bobbi clapped her hands together, dusting them off. “Oh no, hon, it’s no rush. As far as I’m concerned, this is a free consultation. We are best friends, after all.” Bobbi sat down on my twin-sized bed and sank into the mattress. She crossed her legs at the knees and stared off toward the wall. “Do we have to go to work?”

  “Yup, I believe we do unless you don’t want to get paid.”

  “Oh, well, that’s not an option.”

  ***

  Every morning, I met Bobbi for breakfast before classes began. I was late, as usual, so I was rushing. Bobbi was waiting, leaning against the wall near the entryway of the dining hall, looking as tall and statuesque as ever, with her black, curly hair falling freely across her shoulders, framing her cocoa face and bringing the hazel out in her eyes. She was my best friend, and I loved her to death, but I knew she was going to razz me for the clothes I’d chosen to wear.

  “Damn, woman, slow down before you bust your ass.” She giggled at me. “We’re friends and all, but make no mistake. I will laugh at you if you fall, believe me.” Bobbi gave me the once-over. “Um, where do you think you’re going, missy?” She made a twirl with her finger, signaling me to spin around. I did. “Look who’s got some booty on her. Who would’ve thought you, of all people, would be wearing tight blue jeans, a sexy-sleeved top and nice boots. Hey, wait a minute, isn’t that the outfit we picked out for your birthday last year? I’ve haven’t seen you wear it, not one time.” She cocked an eyebrow. “So what’s the occasion… or who’s the occasion, should I say?”

  “Nothing and no one,” I responded defensively. “There’s a first time for everything, Bobbi. Don’t give me shit.” My face was turning red. I looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

  “Nobody’s giving you shit, and no one is paying attention to us. So don’t do your paranoid thing,” she huffed. “Oh, except for maybe that guy over there in the glasses who can’t keep his eyes off of your badonkadonk.”

  “Oh my God!” I turned my body around and pressed my butt against the wall. I felt like it looked so massive in those jeans.

  Bobbi howled with laughter. “I’m just kidding, girl.” She gripped my shoulder. “Besides, if anyone was looking at you, then you should let them look. That’s why you wear tight jeans in the first place. It’s called showing them what you got. Hell, I do it every day and it’s never hurt me.” She put her hand on her hip. “It’s good for your self-esteem.” She flicked my bangs. “I’d change that hair, though, if I were you. Put a little curl in it or something. Anyway, let’s go get some breakfast before your booty causes a riot. That thing is like a call of the wild for crazed, hungry animals.”

  We walked into the dining hall and immediately found a table. Thank goodness we did. It got so busy in the mornings that only one of us could get up to get food at a time for fear of losing our seats and having to eat outside on the grass.

  “Are you okay?” Bobbi sat in her seat with a tray in her hand and placed a wedge of pineapple in her mouth. She licked the juices off her fingers.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Why? Do I look like I’m not okay?”

  “Well, you keep spacing out on me while I’m talking to you. I asked if your dressing up today had anything to do with Professor Sexy. Are you looking to take his attention off what happened yesterday or something? Maybe captivate his mind with your lovely lady lumps?”

  “Lady lumps, Bobbi? Really?”

  She smiled.

  “Anyway, I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of this. I’m not that dressed up.” I averted my eyes. “I just wanted to finally wear the outfit you got me, that’s all. I thought you might appreciate that your money wasn’t wasted.”

  “Mm-hmm.” She wasn’t buying it. “I’m sure it’s not necessarily my appreciation you’re looking for. And for you”—she pointed her finger—“that is dressed up, when you wear oversized sweatshirts and loose-fitting jeans almost every day. You’re not fooling anybody, so what’s the deal, Lynn? Don’t make me drag it out of you.”

  I hate lying to my friends. I really do, especially Bobbi. But what I wasn’t going to tell her was that I did wear this outfit for Professor Foster. I felt like if I looked my best when I walked into class today, there was a chance he could forget that he hated me. It was a slim chance, I knew, but it was worth a shot, and at that point I had nothing to lose.

  I got up from my seat to avoid any further questioning. Bobbi could be a pit bull when she wanted to be. Once she caught a scent of something she felt was a little fishy, she held on to it and shook it until it fell apart at the seams.

  I walked over to the breakfast counter. It was a buffet style, where you could grab what you wanted and pay the cashier as you moved through the line. I grabbed a tray and a tiny bowl of cereal, a tall cup of hot coffee and an orange. I heard my name being called from the distance. At the same time, I heard my cell phone ringing in my pack on the table where we were sitting. It was an obnoxious ring. I’d forgotten I set my ringtone to sound like chirping birds. No one ever bothered to call me, so I never bothered to change it.

  People were getting annoyed. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t reach for my phone, and it was Bobbi calling my name—too many things to do at one time. I needed to set my tray down, but I was in a hurry. I spun around. Out the corner of my eye, I caught a quick glimpse of someone behind me. It was too late to stop my momentum. My tray hit him square in the middle of his chest. The coffee went sliding off of my tray. It tipped, spilled and made a complete mess as it landed all over Professor Foster.

  Lesson # 3

  Compliance is comfort

  “The most important reason is because what I say goes.” -Simon Foster

  I had never heard so many curses come out of a professor’s mouth before. They were flying through the air like rogue fireworks aimed to explode at my head. I felt awful. Professor Foster looked at me again with anger in his eyes as he ripped his shirt open, keeping the coffee from his skin. It was scalding hot. He grabbed a load of napkins off the counter and wiped at his chest. I felt ashamed because all I could do was stare, as my mouth began to water.

  His skin began to turn bright red. I should’ve been concerned, but for one brief moment, all I could see were his abs coming out to make my acquaintance. They were perfectly well defined. So much so that I could finally understand how six square packs of muscle could turn any woman’s body into mush.

  “Look at this mess!” Simon shook out his hands with coffee dripping from his fingers and his palms.

  “I’m so, so, sorry, Professor Foster. I turned around and you appeared out of nowhere. I didn’t mean to—”

  He held up his hand to stop me from talking. His head was facing in my direction, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking through me. It was unnerving. “Please don’t be upset. It was an accident,” I continued, but he turned and walked away, uninterested in anything I had to say.

  Professor Foster not only didn’t respond to my apology, he didn’t look back in my direction at all. He walked right out the door at a furious pace, not caring if anyone got in his way. Bobbi walked next to me and wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

  “Now, that was hot,” she said sarcastically. “Good job, assistant. I guess part of your
responsibilities from now on will be paying for his laundry.”

  I shot daggers at her. “That’s not funny.”

  “I know it isn’t, but I feel for you. I’ll help you look for a new job if you want me to, because I don’t think you’ll be keeping this one for long.”

  Now that Professor Foster had left the premises, I realized that my chest felt wet. I looked down and saw the mess that I made of my shirt; coffee was splattered all over it like some kid had used finger paints on it. Coffee doesn’t go well with fine white cotton. I sighed in exasperation. I hadn’t even made it into the classroom with him yet and things had already gone south. If it were the fifties, I’d be Lucy Ricardo for sure, about to let out that irritating whine with my face turned down like a depressed basset hound.

  “How much time do I have before class?” I said to Bobbi.

  She looked at her watch. “I’d say you have less than five minutes.”

  “Shit! I gotta go.” I grabbed my stuff and I took off, heading toward the door, nearly slipping on a spilled spot of coffee. “I’m sorry,” I told the cashier while holding the counter for balance. “Bobbi, can you pay for me, please? I’ll give you the money back, I promise.”

  Bobbi nodded, and shooed me away. “I got it. Go, go.”

  I ran down the hall in my high-heeled boots. Right then, I couldn’t understand why women wore the things. My calves were burning, my toes were scrunched up and I looked like I was running on a bed of hot coals. Once I made it to my room, I unbuttoned my top, pulled out my drawer and dug around with my hands. I came up empty. “Crap!”

  I had nothing else to wear that matched what I had on. My ensemble was the top-of-the-line, high-end wear for Lynn, and I didn’t have anything else that was like it. I had less than a minute to go to change my entire outfit, make it down the hall and get to class on time. That wasn’t going to happen. I strode to the other side of the room and pulled a swanky white top from Sonja’s middle drawer. I slipped it over my head, and although it was a little baggy, I went with it anyway. I really I had no choice unless I wanted to walk around with coffee stains, reminding Professor Foster of what I’d done.

  I ran back down the hall and finally made it to class. I was out of breath by then. So I stood by the door to catch my breath and prepare myself for what was about to happen. Professor Foster was either going to chew me out in front of the entire class, making an example of me, or he would kill me in the privacy of his office. The execution would be quick and clean. Or at least I hoped it would be. There were so many ways he could handle this situation, but none of them would fall in my favor.

  “Are you going to open the door or keep me standing here out in the hall? I do have a class to lecture, you know.”

  I looked over my shoulder. Professor Foster was behind me with an attaché case in his hand and a blue short-sleeved unbuttoned shirt hugging magnificently to his chest. My heart rate soared. As soon as I saw him, my breathing became erratic—more so than when I was running—and I inhaled and then exhaled with rapid, shallow bursts, hoping it would slow down my heart rate. My fingers curled around the door handle and stayed there.

  “Okay, it looks like I’m going to have to open the door myself, once again totally negating the need for an assistant.”

  He reached around my right shoulder for the door. His body was so close to mine, I could feel his heat on my neck. His cologne smelled of musk and aromatic spices. I inhaled it as deeply as I could before I released the door.

  “Did you just smell me?” His eyes narrowed.

  “Me?” My face warmed. “No, of course not. What are you talking about?”

  “You just sniffed my neck, didn’t you?” His dimples sank in his cheeks like machine slots made for quarters, and without him having to smile. I wasn’t sure if he was still upset with me or amused by my blatant stupidity.

  “We’re late, professor,” I said. “I think we should go in.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Ah, you’re right.” He sighed. “I can’t be late on my first day.”

  Professor Foster opened the door, and we both walked through. Once he made it to his podium, he turned and addressed the class.

  “For those of you who don’t know, Professor Temple had to begin her maternity leave early, so I’m stepping in as her replacement. My name is Mr. Foster. You can call me that, Professor Foster or just professor, whatever suits you. I first need to apologize for my tardiness, as I had a little accident in the dining hall this morning thanks to my assistant over here, whom I’m sure you all know. However, with that being said, what you don’t know is today was a scheduled day for a pop quiz, and since I am late due to unforeseen circumstances, I can only give you fifty-minutes to complete it.”

  My jaw dropped to my chest. What the fuck?

  “Ms. Minnelli, if you can pass around these tests to all the students, we’ll begin as soon as you’re done. Thank you.” He grinned.

  I couldn’t believe he threw me under the bus like that. As I passed around the tests one row at a time, every student I handed them to grumbled under their breath, shot me a dirty look or didn’t bother to look at me at all. It was a terrible feeling, being ignored like that. But mostly, what I really felt was fury. Professor Temple wouldn’t have dared to call me out like that. The students were going to be ruthless if this affected their grades at all.

  Once the class had finally emptied out, I got busy packing my stuff, thinking about my next class and the effort it would take to get there. I was halfway up the stairs and almost out the door when Professor Foster called me to return.

  “Lynn, can I talk to you for a second before you go?”

  I debated it. I really did, but at the end of the day, I couldn’t outright ignore him. He was my boss right now, and my much-needed paycheck depended upon my obedience to this extremely handsome tyrant. “Yes, Professor Foster, of course.” I walked back down the steps. “Is something wrong?”

  He sat down on the table that I used as a desk and folded his arms across his chest. “So, what do you think we should do with you?”

  “I don’t follow. What do you mean?”

  “Well, according to Professor Temple, you have a free period after class. It’s part of the reason she accepted you as TA, so you would have extra time to help her out. But to my surprise, you were leaving my class without grading the tests from today. I’m not sure what to make of that.”

  I didn’t know what to say. My words were stuck, my throat went dry and I tried to swallow hard. I needed to get it together, although I was becoming more convinced the guy actually hated me. I mean real dislike, not the feelings I played with earlier. He was clearly punishing me, as it were.

  “I’ll get right on it,” I hissed between my teeth. I wanted to leave so badly that I was almost ready to reason that no money was worth it.

  It took me a full hour to finish grading the tests. It was my job; I realized that. He was totally right in that respect, but his approach left something to be desired. He watched over me the whole time, like a vulture circling over prey, waiting for it to finally die. I couldn't tell if he was monitoring me to make sure I didn't make any errors or if he simply got satisfaction from making me squirm. His perseverance annoyed me, as he held a pen in his hand with a grin on his face that I just wanted to rip off. I wasn't used to being micromanaged, and I didn't need a supervisor breathing down my neck while I tried to get the job done. I sighed in irritation as I came to the final test paper and marked through it.

  At last I dropped the thick pile of tests onto his lap. “Anything else?” I surreptitiously glanced at the door, the means of my salvation.

  The professor's posture went rigid, and I saw him clench and unclench his fists in frustration before he spoke to me with venom in his words. “Take these tests off my lap, Ms. Minnelli, and put them on the desk where they belong. I was generous enough to keep you as my TA, and this is how you perform? I believe I deserve a lot more respect than what I’ve been shown so far. Don’t you?”