Teacher's Pet

"I'm not asking you to picture yourself with him," Ginny said. "I'm asking you to remember what it was like when you were with him."

My cheeks flooded with color. "I'm not giving you any details!"

"Oh!" Ginny grinned. "Never mind. That blush is telling me everything."

I scowled. "I have to get ready for my interview. We've got to get on the road soon."

"You can't be serious," Ginny groaned. "After the taste you got last night, I was sure you'd wake up and come to your senses. Please, Corsica, think for just a second. Is this interview, this job at the Ritz, really what you want?"

"It doesn't matter if it's what I really want. It's

a job that utilizes what I learned in college. It's a job that has upward mobility. It's a regular paycheck. I can't turn my back on it without some kind of parachute, and singing for a tiny cut of the door is not going to save me."

Ginny grabbed my fingers and squeezed them tight. "Your parachute is the people who care about you, really care about you."

"Joshua cares about me," I said, showing her the incoming phone call.

"Joshua cares about what part you can play in his life. He doesn't want you to go off script, and you two aren't even dating. Now, if you were going to decide about this job without worrying about anything else besides your own deep-down opinion, what would you do?"

Ginny wouldn't let me look away. "I know you, Corsica, and you're happy here. As soon as you mentioned the interview, your whole face fell."

I pulled my fingers free. "So what, Ginny? What am I supposed to do? Cancel my interview and cross my fingers that the whole singing thing keeps happening?"

Ginny grinned, snatched my phone, and held it out to me. "Exactly. Call and cancel that interview. Then let yourself be happy."

I took the phone and paced back and forth before heading downstairs to make the call in private. The human resources director answered as I was still on the stairs, and that's when I saw Penn. He was standing in front of the downstairs windows.

I stopped short on the stairs and kept my voice low. "Hello? Hi, yes, I'm sorry to call with such short notice," I said. "My name is Corsica Allen, and I won't be able to make my interview today. No, thank you, but I won't need to reschedule. Something else has, ah, come up."

Penn's eyebrow lifted as he noticed me on the stairs. "Good morning."

"It's nearly eleven," I said. I shoved the phone and my trembling hands into my pockets.

"So, you're probably off to some fancy brunch place then, right?" Penn asked.

I scoffed and looked down at the rumpled, black, cotton skirt I was wearing. "Do I look like I'm going out to brunch?"

"No," he sneered. "I guess you'd have to find a new outfit. Is that blue dress too fancy for croissants?"

"I wore the blue dress last night. Not that you would know," I snapped.

He looked away. "I was busy. I heard you were wonderful. Good for you."

I marched down the stairs, burned by how he dismissed me. "Good for me? After all the times you pushed me into singing. You were the one who got me that audition, for God's sake. And you just happened to be busy?"

"I thought you, of all people, would respect that work came first." Penn folded his arms across his chest and still did not look at me.

Maybe he really had gotten me out of his system. The thought had my stomach crashing to the floor. Was that it? I gave myself to Penn, and now he was done with me?

My skin got hot as I stalked over to where he was standing. If he was going to stand there all ice cold, then the least I could do was try to make him sweat. "I'm just sorry for you. I put on a good show. Though, I suppose, maybe if you begged, I'd reprise parts of it for you."

Penn's eyebrow lifted as I trailed a fingernail along his arm. When he shifted and loosened his arms, I slipped my hand around his waist. My other hand stopped on his flat stomach, and I let my fingers walk up his chest to tug at his beard.

"Go ahead," I whispered, shock adding a sultry vibration to my voice, "you can beg if you want to."

When Penn opened his mouth to protest, I pressed two fingers to his lips. Then, I slowly dragged them down. His eyes were riveted on me, and I made the most of it by licking my lips. His mouth parted, but no words came out. Though, the flexing press of his hands around my waist told me everything I hoped to hear.

Sparks flew between us.