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My heart leaps. “Thank you so much. I don’t have high hopes, unfortunately, thanks to my overall GPA being less than stellar. But a girl can try.”

“But you’re a gifted writer. You aced both my classes.”

“Thank you. Yes, thankfully, my grades bounced back this past year. But the first years of college were a bit rough on me, personally. Especially last year. And my grades suffered, unfortunately.”

My professor’s features contort with concern. “Do you mind me asking what happened?”

I pause, and then decide there’s no choice but to tell her. “My dad was battling cancer the past couple of years. Last year, I was the one who took care of him, while still juggling a full-time course load and two part-time jobs.”

“Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry. Helping him was all on your shoulders?”

I nod. “He has some neighbors who’ve been great. But it was mostly me. It’s just my dad and me. My mom passed away when I was nine, going on ten.” I look down at my blue toenails, peeking out of my flip flops. “I probably should have taken last year off, or at least dropped down to a part-time course load—but we’d already paid my full-time tuition and housing, so... ” I look up, forcing a smile. “The good news is, he’s doing great now. And his sister recently moved in with him, to help out. So, it’s all good.”

“Aw, Georgie. I’m so sorry.” She puts her hand on her heart. “I’m so glad he’s doing well now.”

“Thank you. Me, too. We’re both super excited for me to graduate and move full steam ahead on my job search, if only I can convince potential employers to look past my mediocre GPA.”

My professor looks thoughtful. “Have you considered applying for an unpaid internship? I know it’d be tough at first, what with student loans and all. But lots of companies, including CeeCee’s, use unpaid internships as their initial proving ground for new hires.”

My spirit sinks. “I’d love to be able to do that, but I can’t afford it. I need a good paying job, not just for my own expenses and student loans, but to help my dad afford some expensive medicine he still needs to take.”

My professor looks downright distraught. “You know what, Georgie? Wait here. I’m going to personally introduce you to CeeCee.”

My heart leaps. “Really? Thank you!” But as she turns to leave, my heart lurches into my mouth. “Professor?”

She turns around.

“Please, don’t tell CeeCee what I told you about my father. I want to get a shot at a job because of my writing abilities, not for sympathy.”

My professor smiles kindly. “Of course. I’ll tell her only that you’re one of the brightest, loveliest, most talented, and passionate journalism students I’ve ever had the pleasure, and honor, of teaching. All of which will be true.”

A lump rises in my throat. “Thank you.”

With a little wink, my professor turns on her heel and strides to CeeCee’s line. My skin buzzing with excitement, I watch her apologize to two students at the front before exuberantly hugging her old friend. The two women talk for quite some time. Long enough that I find myself glancing at Reed after a bit, to make sure he’s still there.

When I spot Reed across the room, he’s talking to a female student. A pretty redhead who’s got her hand outstretched, like she’s offering him something. Is that a music demo in her palm? I bet it is, just like Alessandra predicted. Whatever it is, Reed’s clearly not interested in taking it from her—also, exactly as Alessandra predicted. God, I was so naïve.

“Georgina,” my professor says, drawing my attention.

Oh my God. It’s CeeCee. She’s standing before me. Looking like the legend she is.

Brief introductions are made, after which I begin babbling like the fangirl I am. I tell CeeCee about my admiration for her, for her magazines and fashion sense and philanthropy and business acumen. About my love for investigative journalism and her latest magazine, especially. And when I’m done rambling, CeeCee looks charmed, not annoyed. So much so, she invites me to join her and Professor Schiff for coffee at the nearby campus place—the one where I first met Bryce, actually.

But just before our threesome reaches the double doors at the front of the hall, I can’t help glancing over my shoulder once last time at Mr. Music Mogul. To my thrill, he’s watching me intently. A lion tracking a gazelle. Or, rather, a rich, powerful man watching the nobody he assumed he was going to fuck, just because he felt like it, walking straight out the door without even saying hello to him.

With a wistful smile, I flash Reed a wink, letting him know I’m as disappointed as he is not to get to experience whatever deliciousness might have transpired between us. And then, I straighten up and march out the doors behind CeeCee and my professor, feeling enthralled I’m getting this amazing opportunity... but also, if I’m being honest, a little disappointed I’ll never get the chance to say the words “yes, yes, yes!” to the man who instructed me to say them, whenever opportunity came knocking for me.

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