The Professor
Authors: Kelly Harper
THE PROFESSOR
by Kelly Harper
THE PROFESSOR copyright 2013 by Kelly Harper
THE PROFESSOR is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, Kelly Harper.
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Book Description
Kayla Ellis has everything going for her. She's well on her way to being admitted into one of the best business schools in the country, and things are looking up.
Then she receives disastrous news when she fails an exam in the last prerequisite course she has to take. Now she's forced to work closely with the Professor to make up her grade - a man she's tried hard to avoid all semester.
Sparks fly as the two try to keep things professional between them. But in the end, can they both hold out on what they truly desire?
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The Professor
"Don't forget your end of semester projects are due in two weeks," the Professor said.
Groans rolled through the half-empty lecture hall, but I could do little other than admire the way his shaggy brown hair bounced around his eyes. I should have been paying attention to the lecture, but sometimes I couldn’t help myself. He was a beautiful specimen. Besides, my grades were high enough to get me through the class. What was the harm in taking a little time for myself?
The Professor taught the Intro to Accounting and Finance "weed-out" class. I thought it was going to be boring but it turned out to be very informative, but I could see why the College of Business used it as one of their criteria for admission. At times it was like learning a foreign language - the language of business. It was the final obstacle in a long list of prerequisites for attending a top 10 business school.
My family didn't have much money when I was growing up. They had scrape and sacrificed to get me into a nice college - and I wanted to repay them with an education that would take me places. I had my other passions: music, literature, the arts, but I needed something that could pay the bills. That could let me take care of my parents for a change.
"Don’t forget to pickup your exams before you leave," he said. "Class dismissed."
Concerned murmurs dinned the lecture hall as students made their way down the aisles to the front of the room. The Professor held a large folder with each exam concealed away. He passed them out one by one, and the faces of the students exiting through the side doors were more pained than not.
I lingered behind everyone else, slowly placing my iPad into my large purse and killing a few minutes by pretending to text on my phone. I wanted to be the last in the line. I wanted a moment between just the Professor and myself. The semester was waning and soon the class would be complete. It’s not like I had any intention of pursuing a sexual relationship with the man - but a little flirting never did anyone any harm.
"Ms. Ellis," he said when he saw me approach.
A smile perked at the corner of my lips as he pulled my exam from the nearly depleted pile. He tilted his head down, and his tasseled hair fell in front of his eyes again; it was a small thing but it drove me wild.
Our eyes met when he handed me the exam; another wave of heat coursed through me. I managed to tuck it into my deep purse without making too much of a fool of myself.
"I was hoping to talk to you about my final project sometime," I said after composing myself.
"Please feel free to stop by during my scheduled office hours," he said curtly. He leaned to the side and looked to see if there were any other students waiting behind me. I already knew there weren't, and I had an overwhelming need to have his full attention on me.
I leaned over the desk, bringing myself closer to him. My cleavage hung in front of him; on display. His eyes fluttered over them, briefly, before they connected with mine again. His eyes were as stony as ever - immune to my charms.
"Was there anything else?" he asked. His body language told nothing.
Had I offended him?
I shook my head and managed to restrain myself from running out of the lecture hall as fast as possible. If he had a list of foolish students - surely I had just made it to the top.
"No. Thank you," I said, awkwardly.
I left in a rush, trying not to trip over my own feet in the process. I could feel his eyes on me, judging me. Why must I be such a foolish girl sometimes? I swear no one else went from calm and collected to complete mess faster than me.
I had walked halfway back to my dorm, still mortified that I had all-but thrown myself at the Professor, when I realized that I still hadn't looked at my exam score. I fished the exam out of my purse and turned it over. It took a moment to find what I was looking for. The front of the exam was a mess of red scribbling that left me completely miffed. Then I found what I was looking for. A tiny number in the margin at the top of the paper with a courteous little message attached.
"62% - What happened?"
Fuck me.
* * * * *
"You don't understand," I said. "The entirety of my future hangs in the balance."
Dana looked at me, her eyes sad. She brushed a strand of hair from my eyes and gave me the warmest look I'd ever seen.
"Kayla, everything is going to be all right, you'll see."
"No it's not. Acceptance to the College of Business is very competitive. If I don't get an A in this class I can kiss my future goodbye. Everything I've ever worked for goes up in flames. Like that - pfft!"
Her mouth quirked upward in a smirk. "You're overreacting. Don't forget, I took the class too. I know what you're going through."
I sobbed, giving up the futile attempt to hold back the tears. The tissues in my hand were wet and soggy already. Dana just didn't understand. She and I were best friends, but I had no illusions that we were the same. Not by a long shot.
"But your father graduated from the college. You're a Legacy. Everyone knows it's easier for Legacies to get admittance."
Fire flashed in her eyes, and I immediately regretted saying it. I winced openly.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I know you work hard to make your own way." I dabbed at my eyes again with the wet tissue. "I'm just upset."
The fire lessened, but only slightly. She blew out a sight and put a hand on my shoulder.
"Have you talked to Professor Dewey about the grade yet?"
I shook my head. "No. Instead I made a complete fool of myself in front of him. You wouldn't believe what I did if I told you."
She frowned. "It can't be that bad. What happened?"
I sat as straight as possible and looked down at my breasts. I held my hands up, framing them for her.
"I put the Ladies on full display for him. Somehow I got it in my head that it was the perfect time to make things really awkward between us."
Dana's eyebrows scrunched suspiciously, and the corner of her lip turned up in a disbelieving smirk.
"You didn't," she said.
I nodded my head emphatically. "I most certainly did. I should have just stripped from him while I was at it."
"Oh," she said. "Well, I'm sure he was very flattered. What did he say?"
"No way he was flattered. You should have seen him. You know every slut in his class has tried to hit on him at least once or twice." I sniffed again and wiped away a new stretch of tears. "I thought I was better than that."
"He is a very attractive man," she said. Her eyes went a bit distant for a moment, then they met mine again. "But girl, you
are
better." She gave me a warm smile. "We all act a little crazy sometimes."
A new flood of tears streamed down my cheeks. "You're absolutely right. It was crazy."
She pulled me into her and held me tight. The warmth of her body was comforting, peaceful. I wanted to punish myself for being so childish, but I couldn't help but feel a bit better as she held me.
"Go to his office hours. Talk to him. Straighten everything out."
I pulled away and looked up at her. She was only six months older than me, but somehow she had a wisdom beyond her years. She had a way of breaking things down and making the answers so simple.
"He's going to think I'm just there to hit on him again. He's lost all respect for me."
"Don't be foolish. I was in a similar situation when I took his class and everything worked out." She paused for a moment, like she was trying find her words. After a time she said, "He's got a good head on his shoulders."
I stared at her, confused. There was something in her look that I hadn't seen before. We never kept anything from each other, yet I got the impression that there was something she wasn't telling me.
"What is it?" I asked.
She was silent for a moment and then waived her hand. "It's nothing," she smiled. "Not even I'm perfect. I struggled in his class too, but he was kind enough to let me do some extra credit as make up."
I frowned. “He told us that he never does that. He said that we earn our score by way of his tests.”
“I think that’s because there are so many people that fail. You know it's a weed-out class - the University expects the grades to be a bit lower because it's so difficult."
“So why would he give you extra credit?”
She shrugged. “He said that he can make exceptions in certain circumstances. He said I showed initiative and drive - two qualities the business school appreciates.”
Another moment of silence passed. I didn’t want to say what was on my mind – that he had given her the extra credit because of her father’s connections with the school. I guess it didn’t really matter anyway. It’s not like she had failed the exam for me – I had made my own bed and now I had to sleep in it. And if that meant that I needed to beg and plead for an opportunity to improve my score – I would do just that.
“So you think he’ll work with me?” I asked.
"Just talk to him.” She rubbed my shoulder again, and I felt immediately comforted. For the first time that afternoon I let a glimmer of hope creep into my mind. Maybe things weren't as bad as I had thought - the grade was just a minor set back. But I couldn’t get ahead of myself - there were still a lot of variables to consider; still a lot of things that could go wrong.
“You’re right,” I said resolutely. “The Professor has office hours tomorrow. I’ll talk with him and get the whole situation worked out.”
“Good. I don’t like seeing you this upset.”
Her eyes lingered on mine for a time, and a small pang of guilt lumped in my stomach. I wasn’t sure why I felt it - but there was something in her look that I hadn’t seen before. I didn't know what it was, but it looked like some kind of sadness.
“You’re the best friend a girl could have,” I said.
“And don’t you forget it,” she grinned.
* * * * *
The next twenty-four hours felt like a lifetime. The Professor's office hours didn't begin until the afternoon, and I had no classes beforehand to distract me. I spent the time thinking about everything that had happened, and everything Dana and I had talked about. For a brief moment I considered calling my father to talk it over with him - he had a way of giving me perspective on things - but I didn't want him to worry about me until I knew there was something to worry about.
I thought about what Dana had told me. She had said that he had allowed her to do some extra work to improve her grade - but what exactly did that mean? I got the feeling that there was more to the story. We never kept anything from each other, and for the first time since meeting her I like there was something I couldn't talk to her about.
The other thing that haunted my thoughts was the note the Professor had written on the exam. "What happened?" it read. What had happened, indeed? The long and short of it was that I had been cocky. I had done something very uncharacteristic before an exam and had stayed out all night drinking. I had such a massive hangover the next day I'm surprised I made it to class at all. It was a mistake that might have been forgivable in my freshman year, but not when I was preparing my formal application to the business college.
