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She didn’t answer, but I got a nod of her head.
Not that I believed it. Everything about her was stiff; her gait, her movements, and her eyes. Not to mention the radio silence between us was making me nervous.
“If you have something else you need to do, I can handle this.” Giving her an out felt like the right thing to do. The only way to guard myself against the inevitable—her great escape. “Worst case scenario, I can recruit Cory to help me out.”
Even though Professor Hughes had specifically asked that we not give students menial tasks, if I was desperate enough I’d pretend I hadn’t been listening. Besides, I had a feeling Cory would agree to anything if I enticed him with the appearance of porn stars.
“I said I’d do this for Everly.” She stuffed a gift card in the bag. “So let’s do it.”
“What’s got your panties in a bunch? You’re snippier than usual.”
Speaking of panties…
My mind was always in the damn gutter when it came to Grace. I had been wondering since the moment she’d walked in what kind she was wearing underneath that gray, patterned skirt. She’d paired it with a white blouse that was unbuttoned to an obscenely low position.
“I said I’m fine. Please drop it.” She pulled a little too tightly on the straw handles of the black bag she was working on, and one of them snapped. Her head fell back in defeat, her auburn hair billowing over her shoulders, and she whispered, “Jesus shit.”
I barked out a laugh. “Jesus shit?”
She lifted her head and our eyes locked. Then she burst out laughing. Her entire body softened with her movements, the tension rolling off her shoulders as they eased away from her ears.
I reached across the table and took the bag from her hand. “I’m sure I can fix the handle.”
It wasn’t only her body that had softened, but so had her eyes. Appreciation stared back at me, and I had no idea why.
With a deep breath and a jerk of her head, she looked away. “So where were we in our lesson?” She grabbed another empty bag and opened it, starting at one end of the table and moving along to the opposite end in an attempt to fill it.
Mental whiplash was becoming a common thread in our interactions. Every word out of her mouth, every decision, made no sense to me. I couldn’t figure her out, which only made her complete 180 into business mode all the more believable.
“We got your wardrobe down.” She looked up. “The suit will be ready by the end of the week, by the way.”
I nodded.
“So, next rule of presentation skills.” She shook the bag, making room for more items. “Be passionate about your subject.”
It never failed to amaze me how confident she was. I hoped I could channel that when the time came.
“You can probably talk about the porn industry backwards and forwards, but you have to be prepared. Anticipate questions and work out what you want to say. Write it down and memorize it. It’s how I get through all of my presentations.” She turned away, moving toward the couch to put down yet another bag she’d completed. “I have no doubt you can command a room full of porn stars and co-workers,” she said over her shoulder as she shuffled one of the boxes on the couch. “But this talk is going be outside your comfort zone and you need to take that confidence and apply it.”
My head was spinning. Questions? Writing out my answers? Comfort zones? Was this some kind of test?
“The students are all film majors, right?” she asked. She was once again standing across from me with a new bag open and ready for filling.
I nodded.
“I’d stick to the technical stuff. Your process. Your daily activities. Why you went into film. Did you always want to be a director? Where do you get your inspiration? Things like that.”
Why hadn’t those questions even come to my mind? This was such a bad idea.
I thrust my hand through my hair and let out a frustrated breath. “You make it seem so easy. How do you know all this?”
She shrugged. “I had to do it a lot in school and this summer I did quite a few corporate presentations.”
I was going to humiliate myself. For all of the bravado, for all of the times I had been the life of the party, it wouldn’t help me here. I was the director: the person telling everyone where to sit, where to stand, and where to place their cock. I was fucking in charge. But I knew that speaking to a class full of students would be the hardest thing I’d ever done.
“You just need practice.” She picked up the travel-sized bottles one at a time, placing a shampoo, conditioner, and mouthwash into her swag bag in progress. “I do have one major recommendation.”
“Other than completely changing my wardrobe?”
