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“Sir, this conversation is inappropriate.”
“Oh, you enjoy teaching your superiors, do you?” I shuffled some of her Facebook photographs over to her side. Skimpy clothes, dancing with abandon.
“Then why reveal yourself to strangers? You could be so special. Why choose to be a common thing?”
The anger! It made her eyes turn golden, feline. More beautiful, more unapproachable. I’d have to find a way to break past that.
She pushed her chair away and stood up.
“I don’t know what is wrong with you, but you need help.”
Okay, that threw me back. No one had dared to tell me I neededhelp.But I continued smiling at her. The rage was good. It would feel better when I got to crush it.
“Don’t expect me to leave this place because you’re trying to intimidate me. There is a line between what I do for my sake and what you’re asking for. Maybe you should include a sex education class and take part in it too.”
That was unexpected too. It actually made me throw my head back and laugh until tears streamed down my face. “My goodness, you are something else. I’m going to enjoy pursuing you, Ms. Sullivan. I don’t intend to make you leave at all.”
“Good, because I’m not leaving, and neither am I giving in to anything you’ve just said. You disgust me.”
“Pity, because you fascinate me.”
Her face was red now. She turned and stormed toward the door and did not look back.
Until the very end.
She flipped her hair around and glared at me with those eyes, their colors so strange, so deliciously unique.
"It must feel like crap to wake up every day and know you have nothing better to do than run after girls. What a waste of a life."
What did she just say?
Expel her immediately.
That was my first thought, but oh, where was the fun in that? If I got rid of her without breaking her first, she'd never learn.
All I wanted to do waseducateher. She had to know how academia worked.
Surely I wasn't the first authority figure to show interest in her? How many would she turn down if it came to risking her career in the field?
Aurora Sullivan wants a PhD and to become a professor. Naughty little girl.
She'll have to jump some hoops along the way.
Hmm. Maybe psychological evaluation would help.
I'd need the new counselor to back me up when the time came to label Ms. Sullivan as unstable.
Robin was putty in my hands, anyway. Not like that pesky little Burton.
Sad, what happened to her, though. I heard the husband went insane after she died.
Not that he needed to know everything that went down on the evening of the accident.
June Burton should have known better than to try to get Emma to testify.
You play chess with the master, you prepare for the most obvious outcome.
"Thank you for your wit, Ms. Sullivan," I replied silkily. "I believe we shall meet again. Very soon."
