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“You’re not here to cherry pick your next fuck, Pugliesi,” he spits out, his face reddening. “I put my ass on the line to get you here and with each rumor, I regret it more and more.”
I settle in my seat behind my desk, trying not to smirk.
Because we both know that I don’t have to be here. We both know he nearly begged for me to come.
“In your version of events, what is your resolution?” I ask, folding my hands together and watching as he yanks one of my chairs back and sinks into it.
“Don’t fuck with my job.”
“I thought I was here tohelpyour job,” I remind him.
He shakes his head and points his finger at me. And from any other man, I would accept a lot less. I have to remind myself that this is my friend. That when I had nowhere to go, I slept on his couch. He was the best man at my wedding, and I was at his.
“I offered you this job because I thought you wanted some time out of the spotlight after your messy divorce.” The reminder stings but I don’t hold much weight in what the latest gossip is anyway. Hollywood is fucking stupid. A waste of space.
“You offered me this job because you needed help getting students in here,” I remind him. “And people are going to talk, no matter what.”
“You’re going to make it worse for yourself, fucking my goddamn students!”
“I’m not just fucking her,” I insist, wishing he would stop talking like she’s some kind of cheap transaction. She isn’t like the others. She never was.
“All the more reason to stop this. But if you don’t, I’ll have to put an end to it.”
I still, staring at him, feeling the heat of anger rise within me.
“Are you threatening me?”
“You and I have been friends for decades. But if you can’t have the discipline to protect yourself, I’ll have to do it for you.” He says the words like they’re that simple. Like I require assistance taking care of myself. Like I’m not here to savehisass.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ll remove her from the program.” It’s a simple statement that makes my blood run cold. Surely, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
“You can’t do that. She’ll sue you and I’ll help her.”
“What do you think her future will look like, after dealing with a mess like that? You think she’ll go on to live successfully?” He leans forward. “She’ll be forever marked by this ordeal. Labeled a whore—”
I’m standing before I can help myself, fuming.
“Non sono affari tuoi,” I mutter, glaring at him.
“It is my business. The reputation of this school is my business.” His eyes soften as he stands. “As is the reputation of my dearest friend.”
He presses his palms together, holding them still a moment. Then he points them toward me.
“Think about what I said. Make the right decision,amico.”
Without another word, he opens the door and walks out of my office.
* * *
By the timeI see Sabrina in class, I’m in a wretched mood. I’m not a man with much patience for things I don’t enjoy doing in general.
I don’t enjoy teaching. And now that it has the potential to harm someone I care deeply for, I deign to do it.
I’ve asked question after question to the class, ignoring Sabrina’s raised hand and losing what little patience I have left to stand here, babysitting these little shitheads.
“Mannaggia! It’s a wonder you’re all here for an education, given how fucking dim-witted the majority of you are.”
