Teacher's Pet

"I thought you said you weren't going to make it tonight."

"This is important," Xavier said. He strode into the kitchen as if preparing to address a board of directors, but it was just me, the silver tray, and the bottle of champagne. "I see you had no trouble adjusting your plans. Or is this a spur-of-the-moment thing? She, whomever she may be, might like the Beluga more."

I bristled as he eyed the two champagne flutes. My father, of all people, had no right to advise me on romance. "Not spur-of-the-moment, just private. We weren't expecting you."

My father pounced. "You're in a relationship?"

"Why is that so shocking?" I snapped.

"Only because it doesn't happen that often, and I've never been so lucky as to meet one of your women."

I picked up the silver tray just to stop both hands from curling into fists. "Well, tonight's not your lucky night. We were just finishing our little tour of how the rich and despotic live. We'll be in the garage apartment. Maybe we can talk in the morning. Maybe."

"You mean you're taking this poor girl to the carriage house?" Xavier laughed at the ludicrous idea. "You really expect your girlfriend to see all of this and settle for that little attic? I'll invite her to stay, and she can have her choice of guest suites."

He beat me to the stairs, and my knuckles went white trying to resist the urge to throw the tray down after him. Not only had I made more out of my connection to Corsica than was true, but I knew exactly what would happen when she met my father. All women swooned over Xavier Templeton, but with Corsica's social climbing drive, she would turn into a drooling mess.

"Is she singing?" my father whispered at the door to the music room. "My God, her voice really ignites the blood."

I scowled, but said nothing. I thought the silver hair fanning out at my father's temples was the only change I would see, but now there was something different in his face. Something faraway and wistful. My father had never wanted for anything, so to see that expression in his eyes was enough to steal my voice.

Then he stepped into the music room.

"Wait, she doesn't-"

"Please, don't let me interrupt you. This is one of my favorite songs."

Corsica's laugh had the same lusty tone of her singing voice until I walked in and she realized the situation. "I'm sorry," she said. "I really didn't mean to trespass, sir. I'll just be on my… Oh, my, God, you're Xavier Templeton!"

She dropped the microphone and clapped both hands over her mouth. My father chuckled and held out a hand to her. I dropped the silver tray onto a side table with a crash and cut him off.

"She's right. We'll get out of your way, boss," I said.

My father politely declined to move and held out his hand to Corsica. "Yes, I am Xavier Templeton. And, who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"Corsica Allen," she said. "I read the interview you did for The Guardian, and I'm impressed with the holistic view you have of technology."

My jaw dropped, and Corsica's chin went up a notch when she noticed. She shook my father's hand and allowed him to escort her to the white, leather seats by the window. There was nothing I could do but watch. He had always been the picture of gallantry and, while Corsica's reaction to him had been one of the more coherent I had seen, she blushed at his attention.

"I truly believe technology can better our lives, but only if it benefits all," my father said. "When tools are kept out of the hands of some, we as a people miss out on incredible talent. Like yours."

"Mine?"

"You were singing one of my favorite songs, and now I will never prefer the old rendition."

I cleared my throat and joined them to lay a hand on Corsica's shoulder. "It's late, and we really should be heading up," I said.

My father shook his head and winked at Corsica. "He's always so secretive. I never get to meet any of the women he's dating, much less the special ones."

Corsica's blush deepened, and for a moment, I was caught by the storm of flattery and confusion in her eyes. Then her sky blue gaze cleared, and she said, "I'm sure he did not intend for us to meet. You must have high standards for your staff, and I wouldn't want you to think he bent the rules for me."

"Rules?" my father glanced up at me. "The last time I disciplined Penn for an infraction of the rules, he must have been-"

"Trying to get fired," I snapped.

Corsica jumped to her feet, her face a mask of worry. "Why would you do that?" she squeaked. "You work for the most innovative and forward-thinking man in Silicon Valley. It would be crazy to throw that away."

If only she knew how much I had thrown away, I thought.