My Professor(58)

But no.

“Not Zach.”

“Well, I’ll leave the spot open for now, just on the off chance you find love in the next fourteen days.”

“Spoiler alert: I won’t.”

“How are things otherwise? Any updates about Professor Barclay? I still can’t believe he drove you home the other week. You say it wasn’t sweet, but HELLO, he rescued you while you were walking home in the rain.”

God, she’s behind. I’ve kept her so out of the loop.

“It’s not that it wasn’t sweet. I just meant…it wasn’t a big deal. Like he would have driven home any of his employees if he’d caught them walking home in the rain.”

“Okay sure, fine. Listen, I have to run or I won’t have time to shower before work. Call me later. I want your opinion on this new lipstick I got for the big day. I’m scared it’s too pink.”

“Yeah, I get it. Show me later, I’ll be honest.”

I suppose I need to get going too. I’ve already showered and dried my hair, but I add a few soft waves, and then I wrap half of it up into a loose bun with my long bangs parted down the center, framing my face just the way I like. The emphasis is all on my eyes, and I enhance them more with a swipe of eyeliner and a few coats of mascara. I run my finger over my lipsticks neatly organized in a tray on my counter and land on a pale pink. I like how contradictory the shade is compared to the one I wore in Professor Barclay’s office yesterday.

My outfit is simple: black trousers paired with a semi-sheer collared black blouse adorned with a smattering of tiny gold foil stars. A tank underneath ensures it’s safe to wear to work.

I check my lipstick again in the elevator at the Banks and Barclay building, and just as the elevator dings, I stow my small mirror in my bag.

There is no clear path forward where Professor Barclay is concerned. Yesterday, he asked me out on a date, “a proper dinner,” he said, but the offer was more than a little coerced. I mean, his pants were still unbuttoned at the time. He was trying to soften the blow for me so I wouldn’t have to feel so degraded by what I’d just done.

No dinner.

No dates.

Not with a man like him.

I know that much.

I stow my bag at my desk and look up just in time to see Lewis make his way over to our cluster of cubicles. I stand up straighter and make sure to smile politely as he approaches. I don’t get much face time with him. He keeps to his office mainly, communicating with the team via email. I want to impress him, though, and he seems to appreciate my tenacity when it comes to my work. His subtle nods when he sees me staying later than my coworkers are fuel enough for me.

“Morning, Emelia. You’ll see an announcement about it in your email in a few minutes, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. We have a last-minute meeting for the Belle Haven project at nine. Make sure to let everyone know.”

I nod and he’s already walking away, on to the next thing.

I boot up my computer, check the email he said would be there to confirm the meeting time, and go about my morning routine. I unpack my lunch from my bag then water my little ivy plant. Next, I fill my coffee cup with what’s left of the pot in the break room, making sure to brew another pot before I leave. I like my coffee black and piping hot, so I steal sips of it on my way back to my desk. The mug is still at my lips when I round the corner and find Professor Barclay talking to Lewis right by my chair.

He sees me straight away, and his blue eyes say it all.

Good morning, Emelia.

What an outfit.

Oh, and by the way…that lipstick isn’t fooling anyone.

I’m glad my private smile is concealed behind my mug.

Neither of them steps aside as I approach, so I’m forced to walk annoyingly close to Professor Barclay. There’s no ignoring him now. I meet his eyes and smile in acknowledgment as I would for any boss. A generic “Good morning” is a requisite too.

He tips his head in greeting then watches me take my seat.

Their conversation doesn’t falter on my account; why would it? Under different circumstances, I’m just a lowly new hire Professor Barclay wouldn’t honor with his attention.

I sit down and shake my mouse to wake up my computer, aware of his presence behind me. I go back to my email inbox, wishing something new would pop up and steal my attention. I’m a tidy person. I clean my desk before I leave work. I make sure there are no pressing matters that will bury me first thing in the morning. Now, I’m regretting that.

I can smell his cologne over my morning cup of coffee.

That scent means something else to me now, after yesterday.

It clung to me as I walked out of his office at the university, my hair in disarray, my lipstick smeared across my cheek. I went to the first bathroom I could find and cleaned myself up, waited for the shame to set in. What a devious thing to do. What a bad, bad choice.

But there was no shame. There still isn’t. Only a delicious little thrill at the thought of doing it again if the opportunity presents itself.

“Emelia?”

I blink and look up to see Meera standing on the other side of our shared cubicle wall, holding up something wrapped in foil.

“Did you already eat breakfast? I grabbed an extra bagel this morning.”

I nod. “Back at home. Thank you though.”

“I’ll take it!” Hugo says, reaching his hand up and waving it wildly. Hugo is rarely without food.