“It’s only an associate professor position at Strickland University, not Harvard.”
“Strickland is still a prestigious school. Give yourself some credit. Not too shabby for your first teaching gig. And it beats the hell out of the public defender’s office.”
I shrug, nonchalant, even though I know the position is the opportunity of a lifetime. “You’re acting like I scored a job as a department head. I will still be here, shaking my ass next to you, until I have my freedom back.”
She grabs a bottle of water from the vanity and holds it up. “To freedom and making money. I’m so happy for you, Liv. Professor Ford has a nice ring to it. Professor Olivia Ford. You sound very official.”
Her comment brings a smile to my face. “Thanks, D. I guess you can say, teaching is in my blood.”
“I bet your dad was a good teacher. He can teach me quadratic equations any day.” She licks her lips and winks at me.
“Gross!” I throw a tube of lipstick at her, laughing. “That’s my dad you’re talking about. He’s retired and…just ew.”
She shrugs. “What? He’s cute for an old dude.”
I grew up in a middle-class neighborhood in Northeast Philadelphia with parents who were both schoolteachers. My dad taught high school mathematics and met my mom shortly after when she applied at his school to teach English. I’m a little bit of each parent, good with both numbers and words.
Instead of teaching, I went to law school and landed myself a job at the public defender’s office after I passed the Pennsylvania Bar Exam right out of school. I had offers from top firms in the city, but I chose the life of a civil servant because I wanted to help people. Too bad the job paid shit. With all the loans and credit cards I had racked up while I was in school, the pittance of a salary I made wasn’t enough to keep food on my table, a roof over my head, and the collection agencies off my back.
I loved my job…until I had that one case—the one that rips you apart and tears you to pieces. Every lawyer has one client who tests their limits, their morals, and their judgment. Glen Brandis, aka the Wissinoming Park Rapist, was the straw that broke my back. I lost all desire to practice law after his case. I still lose sleep at night over what happened in the courtroom that day.
“Let’s go, ladies!” Tamara, the grouchy woman who manages the dancers, screams through the dressing room door. “You’re on again in two minutes.”
I groan and slide off my stool. “I seriously hope I won’t have to endure much more of this before I can make my escape.”
Donna laughs. “You only have to slum it a little bit longer, Teach,” she says, calling me by my dancer name.
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Corrupt Me
If you like new adult bad boy romances, keep reading for a free excerpt of CORRUPT ME, the first book in the Philly Corruption Series.
CORRUPT ME is available now!
Read CORRUPT ME for FREE with Kindle Unlimited.
Izzie Rinaldi has everything going for her. All she has to do is make it through her senior year of college, and then she’ll be off to law school, one step closer to assuming her position at the head of her family’s empire. After a chance encounter with the campus bad boy, Izzie can’t get him out of her head.
Luca Marchese, the smooth-talking son of the most notorious man in Philadelphia, is used to getting what he wants. He hasn’t forgotten the girl he knew as a child, and now that he has Izzie’s attention, Luca will stop at nothing to have her.
Luca’s defiance of the law turns Izzie on more than she cares to admit. She wants Luca to corrupt her in every way possible, despite his reputation as the king of one-night stands. Their attraction is undeniable, but their desire for one another isn’t enough for Izzie to overlook visits from federal agents and the potential ruin of her family.
Linked to Luca and a criminal underworld, Izzie discovers she’s more like him than she thought. But a future with Luca could mean swapping her diamond bracelets for a pair of handcuffs.
Corrupt Me Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
IZZIE
As I headed down Broad Street toward the stadium, cars whipped through the city in a frenzy of chaos. With the Phillies on a winning streak, the streets were crowded with red-and-white baseball jerseys. Despite the fans cheering in the distance, the dull hum didn’t compare to Strickland University’s bustling campus.
My senior year would’ve been off to a good start if not for the tatted hothead in a Honda Civic who had almost run me off the road. I managed to swerve in time to miss the parked car to my right, but I couldn’t let him off that easy.
Even though I should remain in the right lane to get to my dormitory, I checked my side mirror, inched forward, and yanked the wheel into the left lane to cut off the beat-up Honda.