AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh, I didn't know you already talked to the Dean. I’m surprised he's letting you handle it. I know this school takes pride in performance and honesty.”
“They do, but you’d be surprised by the strings a seasoned professor like myself can pull. While the school takes pride in honesty, they also want their students to succeed.”
I smiled.
“You talk like you’re seventy years old.”
He grunted, finally looking at me.
“I feel like it sometimes. Besides, what’s the difference to someone your age?”
I felt those words as a personal insult.
Owen stood and smashed the papers back into his bag before hurrying back out of the room.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Miller,” he said, putting up a hand in a half-assed wave over his shoulder as he headed toward the door.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” I heard myself shout at him.
Owen paused and looked over his shoulder in surprise.
“Excuse me?” he asked, eyebrows up to his hairline.
I stood and stomped toward him.
“I get that you might feel that way,” I told him, getting closer until we were practically toe to toe, a foot of height difference between us so I had to look straight up at him like a child. “But you don’t get to project that onto me. I don’t care what age a person is. What matters is what’s in their heart; what’s in here.”
I stabbed my finger at his chest, stubbing the dang thing against his hard muscle.
“Maybe you should start thinking that way too, Professor.”
I stormed away from him and left the room first, leaving the man in shock behind me.
Chapter 8
-Mia-
Professor Harlo: How do you feel about coming and doing the work in my home office? There’s a lot more space to spread out. If not, we’ll meet at the school.
Those were the first words he said to me after I flipped my lid at him following our meeting with Ms. Grey on Friday. It was Saturday morning, half an hour before I was supposed to meet him at his office.
Me: Do you have a more comfortable chair? ’Cause the one in your office wasn’t meant for more than a ten minute chat.
Professor Harlo: Yes. And I’ll tell you what, you can even have my personal chair. It’s ergonomic.
Me: I’m sold. Where?
He gave me his address, and that’s when I realized that I’d have to leave immediately if I was going to take the bus.
I could’ve taken my car, but I tried not to because parking was more than difficult most of the time, and the bus was easier than finding a parking space, especially on the weekend.
“Where are you going so early?” Clea asked, watching me throw my backpack together with my laptop and papers, just in case I could get some writing in on the way there and back.
“Professor Harlo gave me most of the week off, so we’re making up for it by doing it all this weekend. Yesterday was another paper day for the creative writing classes.”
“Ugh, you’ve gotten so boring since you started working for him. You can’t ever hang out anymore.”
“Well, I have a job, Clea. I need the money, you know that.”
