Dirty Professor

“Don’t ever let that woman in this office every again.” I sounded a lot sharper than I meant to sound, but I couldn’t help it. Marie had put me in a bad mood.

“Mmmm…Did she piss you off?”

“Damn right she did. And I mean it, Rachel. If you let her in here again, you and I are going to have some words.”

She held up her hands as if to silently say she understood. That’s one thing I could always count on her for. She made me deal with my shit, even if I didn’t want to, but she always listened when I said enough was enough.

“If she tried to come back on the premises, I will make sure she’s removed.”

“Thank you,” I murmured going through the files. “What are these?”

“It’s the paper work on the cook you hired for your new restaurant.”

“Oh?” Wonderful Maybe it had her home address, not that I was going to do anything sketchy. “Perfect. Would you take down her address and have flowers sent over.”

Rachel looked at me, confused. “Flowers?”

“Yes. I want her to feel welcomed.”

“I don’t think It’s a good idea that you get mixed up with a new employee, Jami.”

I offered her a smile. “I ain’t getting tangled up with anyone. Just send her some flowers, alright?”

She rolled her eyes and took the paper. “When this comes back to bite you in the ass, I’m not cleaning up your mess,” she called as she leaved.

Once she was gone I closed the door and sat back down, glancing at the smiling face on the paper. Lena was gorgeous, and despite Rachel’s loving advice, I wasn’t going to give up until she was in my bed.

After all, it had been a long time since someone put up such a good fight.

Lena

There was nothing like the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the morning. Especially when it was brewed in your own coffee maker in your own apartment. I?

??d finally found a place and was eager to get settled into a routine. I’d never really had one before, but I wanted to try and ground myself. I was starting to get tired of running around without any kind of plan.

I settled onto my couch, folding my legs and staring blankly at the TV. It was weird having one of those again. I’d spent a lot of time in countries where the average family didn’t have a TV. Besides, I was often too busy running around exploring to stop and watch TV. Things were going to be different now that I was back in the States.

I sipped at my coffee and picked a book up off my coffee table, thumbing through it and humming softly to myself. Soon I was so engrossed in my reading and had tuned the world out completely. It was just me and my book. So, when my phone suddenly rang I jumped, spilling my coffee all over my lap and book.

“Fuck!” I picked the book up, trying to shake the access coffee off the pages, even though I was only making it worse.

I grabbed my phone and held it to my ear, sounding more annoyed than I meant to. “Yes?”

“Bad time?” It was Miguel.

I sighed and sat the book down on the coffee table, trying to blot the liquid off the pages. “No. The phone ringing surprised me and I spilled coffee all over myself.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?” I asked, settling back on the couch after setting my book on the windowsill to dry.

“Well, I think I got some of your mail.”

“Some of my mail? Who the hell is sending me mail? I haven’t been here for a month yet! Are they already trying to send my credit cards? I swear, some people just—“

“It’s not credit cards. It’s flowers.”

That took me by surprise. I hummed softly and cocked a brow, leaning against the wall. “Flowers? Who the hell is sending me flowers?”