My Professor(76)

I’m typing an email as I reply, “I’m not hiding her away. She and I aren’t dating.”

“Pity. Tell me her name again?”

“I never told you her name in the first place.”

She’s annoyed her ploy didn’t work. “Must you be so insufferable? I thought I raised you better than this. Give your old mother something to live for…”

“You’re barely in your 60s. You do Pilates four times a week.”

“Yes, and with the way your father drives me insane, I’ll be on death’s door tomorrow, Pilates or not.”

“Emelia Mercier.”

That last name stops her in her tracks.

“You’re joking. Is she related to Alexander and Emmett?”

“Sort of. It’s a long story.”

“Well that makes things interesting, doesn’t it? Now why aren’t you two dating?”

“She won’t have me.”

This makes my mother howl with laughter. It’s endless. I put her on speakerphone, set my phone down on my desk, and get back to work. I send off one email, read another, and she’s still going at it.

“I’m sorry,” she says, trying to compose herself. “Oh, I’m terrible. Should I tell you it’s all right and remind you of what a catch you are? No, I shouldn’t—you know that, and I’ll only fill your head with more hot air. Why has she turned you down? Do you two not have chemistry?”

I clear my throat. “That’s…not the problem.”

There’s a soft knock on my door, and I look up to see Emelia. She’s avoided me all day, and I’ve made it easy for her, holing up inside my office, catching up on things I neglected while I was in Cincinnati.

I’d accepted that I wouldn’t get the chance to see her today after the presentation. With my office door closed, I wasn’t sure if she’d already left or not, but I assumed she had. Now, she hovers at the threshold, waiting for an invitation to enter. She looks like a confection in that delicate pink dress, and more importantly, I’m glad to see the tears from this morning are long gone.

I wave for her to come in.

“Maybe it’s that she finds your personality lacking,” my mother suggests helpfully. I’ve still got her on speakerphone so Emelia hears this.

“Could be,” I reply, unbothered. “She’s here now, actually. She just walked into my office.”

Emelia frowns in confusion.

“I’m on the phone with my mother,” I supply.

Her eyes widen and she hesitates mid-step, halfway to my desk.

“Emelia, meet Lucille. Lucille, Emelia.”

“Oh! Um, hello,” Emelia chirps shyly.

“Hello, my dear, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been asking my son all sorts of questions about you, but this is better—I can get information straight from the horse’s mouth.”

Emelia unfurls a timid smile and takes another step closer, obviously intrigued.

“Jonathan says you’ve rejected him.”

A laugh bursts out of Emelia before she can help it.

Then her gaze catches mine as she answers, “Yes…I have.”

Emelia finds this as amusing as I do.

“You told your mom about me?” she whispers.

“Of course,” I mouth back.

“Now, that’s completely understandable,” my mother says, “but I’m curious if it’s because of his attitude, because I’ve told him he really needs to work on that. No one wants to date a grump, Jonathan.”

Emelia’s full-on beaming now.

“He is grumpy sometimes,” she confirms.

My mother groans. “I’ll have you know that does not come from my side of the family. I like to think I’m very genial. Ask anyone.”

“Don’t believe a word she says,” I argue.

“Jonathan!” my mother hisses. “I’m extremely pleasant!”

“She has a biting wit and a dry sense of humor. She’ll eat you alive if you aren’t careful,” I warn Emelia.

“I like her already,” Emelia says, continuing to step closer.

“Thank you. Now, back to the discussion at hand. Are you seeing someone at the moment, Emelia, or are you single?”

I reach out to grab my phone, having had enough. “It’s been nice talking to you, but I have to go now.”

“Oh, fine. You’re such a bore. Emelia, dear, it was a pleasure to meet you. You seem wonderful, and should you ever decide to date my son—grumpy attitude and all—I promise to spoil you rotten. We own a vineyard—has he told you that? I’ll send you as much wine as you’d like—”

“Goodbye,” I interject before hanging up.

Emelia tips her head to the side, studying me. “Your mom must really want you to settle down.”

I lean back in my chair. “She would love it.”

“Why?”

“She thinks it’s important for me to have a family. She knows it’s something I want for myself, and she worries I dedicate too much of my life to my work.”

“Makes sense…I just find it hard to believe she doesn’t have some fancy girl in mind for you to marry. Someone you grew up with, perhaps.”