“I should do that visualization thing you taught me and think of the end goal,” I add and try to brighten up my mood. No matter what I have to do, the significant thing I have to focus on is that I found a way. The fact that I did means I have hope.
She nods. “Yes. That is all you have to do. It’s the only thing you can do. Imagine being able to take care of everything and not having to worry. The next six months will just be a little speck when you think of the long run.” She gives me an encouraging smile.
Running a hand through my hair, I sigh and rise to my feet. I should go get ready. Feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to help anyone. It definitely won’t help me.
“I can do this. I’ll just wear my shoes and smile. It’s only six months.”
“It’s only six months,” she repeats and raises two thumbs up. “Sorry I’m not working tonight. I’d check up on you. But I gotta finish my proposal and hand it in tomorrow.”
“Of course. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” I sound like I’m trying to convince myself more than I’m trying to reassure her. “I’m gonna get ready.”
“Call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
If I knew she could help me more than she already has, I would ask her.
I head off to my room and start getting ready. Getting ready as in packing the lingerie I’m supposed to wear tonight. Since I don’t own anything sexy, I had to go to Victoria’s Secret today and get some stuff.
Mimi, the lady who takes care of the girls at the club, told me I could pick anything to wear from the dressing rooms or mix it up with my own clothes, so I opted for my own stuff. I felt that I’d be more comfortable on the first few nights in something that belonged to me.
All the things I bought are the type of lingerie I imagined wearing on my wedding night, or fuck, maybe for a boyfriend I was in a long-term relationship with, if that ever happened.
I’ve either been too busy studying or too busy taking care of Mom to date.
Guys are the least of my worries now.
And the guy I’m always thinking of was always off limits to me.
The universe must be having a real good laugh at my expense this month because not only did Mom get worse than she already was, but I found out I’d have to mentor with the man I’ve been trying to escape for the last two years.
Since nobody teaches company law like James Marchesi, I’ve been placed with him again, and this time, there’s no transferring out to another class if I want to get where I want to go.
I stand a better chance of not only getting a good reference to get into grad school, but also my internship I hope to do at Barkers if I take his class and mentorship.
I should know better than to fall for my college professor. A man who is completely forbidden to me.
James Marchesi isn’t just my professor, but he’s nearly ten years older than me.
I could have gotten myself in a sticky situation, and transferring to another class when he ended things between us before they even began only moved him out of my sight. Not my mind though.
It’s been two years since I last spoke to him, and tomorrow is the first day I’ll be in his class under his wings again. I don’t know what I’ll be like, and I don’t know what he’ll be like.
That last time we spoke was the day after we kissed.
That was all we did.
Kiss.
It was enough though. It was the type of kiss you don’t forget. The kind to leave a lasting impression on your mind. When he kissed me it was like he should have always been kissing me.
It happened two years ago, but I don’t need to think hard to remember what his lips felt like on mine, how his fingers brushed over my cheek and how my body reacted to his. I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
I already knew I couldn’t have any kind of relationship with him, but hearing him say he couldn’t risk his career hurt me to no end.
My problem with him, however, is minor in comparison to the goal I have ahead of me.
I pack my bag and think of tonight.
My first booking is a party in the Playboy Lounge.
The men tonight want a topless waitress, so I grab the silk burgundy robe with lace trimmings and matching panties. That will be easy to take off.
God… I hate my life.