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CHAPTER6
Tristan
Over the past week, Professor Santini has returned to his original lustful demeanor, leaving the frosty behavior behind. I’m not sure which I prefer—both make me uncomfortable.
Once I’m dressed, I sling my bag over my shoulder and head to the classroom door. As it’s the final Friday of my work here, I stop to thank Professor Santini for the job, give him my business card, and ask that he keep me in mind for future work.
“Professor, I’m incredibly thankful for the opportunity to model for your life drawing class. I hope you’ll consider me for future work.” I’m careful to keep about a yard of distance between us. Whenever the man gets too close, he takes the opportunity to pat my shoulders or massage the back of my neck.
“Tristan, you were truly an exceptional model. Your poses showed thought and energy.” He takes a long step toward me, closing the established gap. “And, with the exception of one tardy morning, you were a pleasure to work with.” He squeezes my bicep familiarly.
I offer him a polite smile. Not too wide and no teeth—God knows, I’m not trying to encourage him. But I need work. The more work I get, the better my family will eat. The warmer the winter coats and boots will be for the kids. The longer Tara can go without taking in babies with runny noses to care for—which will keep Wendy healthy. “Thank you, sir.”
“Let me take you to the dining hall. We can discuss your schedule over lunch.”
Despite the routine of catching after-class lunches with Remi, I can’t say no to Professor Santini’s offer. I’m here at LaCasse College to work, not to flirt with a hunky student artist. Especially when I have no time or energy for dating. “Of course.”
“Once everyone has left, I’ll lock the studio—meet me in the hallway in five minutes.”
I nod and leave the room. As usual, Remi is waiting in the hall.
“Tristan, your modeling job is finished, so I was thinking, maybe today, I could take you out for a real lunch. At a real restaurant.” His cheeks are flushed with what looks like a case of raw nerves. “Instead of eating another salad at the dining hall.”
“I’d like nothing more than to say yes, but I can’t.” And it’s just as well.
“You… you don’t want to go to lunch with me?”
“I want to go.” Probably way too much. Remi has proved to be easy to spend time with. Always interested in my life, if vague about the details of his own. “But Professor Santini has asked to discuss my schedule over lunch at the dining hall.”
“He wants to share more than lunch with you,” Remi grumbles.
I shrug. “I need the work. The kids want Halloween costumes and—”
“Let me take you to dinner tonight instead. Afterward, you can come back to my place, sort through my drawings, and choose some for your portfolio.”
His smile is unexpectedly sly—I tune in to things like this.
I scan my mind for responsibilities with the kids tonight. Is there soccer? Swimming lessons at the community pool? Haircut appointments? “That’s doable.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at your place.” He knows where our apartment is since he dropped Jared and me off there after he took us for ice cream. “How does seven sound?”
“Um, I have two more jobs today, and I won’t have a chance to go home before seven. But I can meet you somewhere.” I glance down at my attire—faded jeans and an old sweatshirt. “Somewhere casual—I’m not dressed for anything nice.”
“Do you like Thai food?”
“I like all food.”
He smiles. “Meet me tonight at Kala Kitchen. Know where it is?”
I nod. “Never been there to eat, but I’ve walked past it on my way to The Warehouse Studio. In fact, I’m modeling at TWS for a life drawing class until six thirty.”
“Then I’ll meet you at the studio instead—it’s just a few blocks from my place. Kala Kitchen is right in the middle.”
“That works. Come into the studio when you arrive—there’s a comfortable waiting room. Sometimes the artists keep me a little bit long, and I don’t want you waiting on the street.”
* * *
