by Lucy Robin
I tense. I’ve been dreading this question. I’m supposed to defend my thesis in about two months, but I haven’t even had the first draft ready yet. I’ve been procrastinating.
“I’m not sure,” I mumble. “I’m still researching.”
“Susie!” Dr. Hoffman raises his voice. “You must hurry! You’ve already extended it by a quarter, and you’re not young! The longer you wait, the harder it becomes!”
My cheeks burn. The last thing I need is someone reminding me of my advanced age. I’m thirty-six years old, considerably older than most of the grad students in the math department. “I know, Dr. Hoffman. I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t have the time…”
He sighs while shaking his head. “I told you to quit your bartending job and spend more time on schoolwork. If you had followed my advice, you would’ve gotten your degree already, and perhaps even a teaching position in a community college, with my recommendation.”
“I know. It’s just that…” I’m about to tell him the teaching assistantship is hardly enough for food, not to mention mortgage and medical insurance, but then I’m not sure whether he would understand.
Besides, he’s already done with our conversation and plunged into grading exams for his other classes.
He chuckles and swears from time to time. “Jesus Christ! How could they admit these morons into Hanley?”
I grit my teeth. I want to ask him why they allow a man as callous as him to teach here.
Chapter 2
Tony
I get out of the math building in a trance.
Holy shit. I’ve just crashed into a gorgeous woman, and she caught me staring at her boobs. Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I could’ve introduced myself instead of drooling over her like a dumbass.
I close my eyes in order to see her again, in my mind. Everything about her is stunning: her brilliant hazel eyes and her warm smile, her gentle voice, and of course, her enticing cleavage.
I’ve seen those eyes, a million times in my dreams. Green like spring and golden like autumn. They caress me like down, and they hurt me like blades. They warm me like sunshine, and they chill me like ice. I blink to get rid of the image from my mind and take a deep breath to stifle the gloom and anger that lurch in my gut.
No, those eyes I saw earlier were different. They were more like amber. All sunshine.
And I’ve definitely seen the woman before. She’s either a professor or a teaching assistant here. The exams fell out of her hands were for Math 1C. I know it. Susan something… Brandon, my tennis partner, has spoken about her, many times. He had her for Math 1A. He says she’s a great teacher, and she’s hot. He showed me her picture on math department website, too, but it was blurry and didn’t do her justice.
I guess Dr. Huff’s humiliating treatment pissed me and seeing her was like seeing an oasis in a fucking desert.
I linger at the café in the math building and get myself a sandwich and a drink. I have to eat something and go back to practice. Brandon and I have a doubles match against San Jose State on Saturday. ITA Regional Championships. We have to win this one to get into the semifinals. We didn’t make it last year, and that was because I was a freshman back then and couldn’t get my shit together yet. But this time, I made a promise to myself and Nick, our coach, that I would give a hundred percent.
But before that, I have a math midterm on Friday and I’m so not ready for it. I still don’t know what the hell I should major in. Mom wants me to major in business and I’m somewhat interested in economics, but both require so many math courses. And I hate math… or I hated math, because I don’t seem to hate it so much now. I chew on the sandwich, again remembering the woman, Susan, or Susie? I wish I took the class with Brandon last year since it would be easier with a hot TA, who looked good and smelled good. I could ogle her all I wanted for a full hour a time. I wouldn’t mind inhaling her gardenia or honeysuckle scent.
Just imagine how good it is to kiss her lush lips and bury my nose in her snowy valley. I’m sure she would like me to do these to her, too. I swear I see her blush, and she stared into my eyes too long, and she tried to hide her ring.
Fuck, she won’t be hard to get. None of them is. But I don’t want to play the game again… do I?
No, Tony, I hear a voice in my head, warning me. Don’t do it. Quit thinking about it! No more messing around with married women. Definitely no screwing teachers again! You don’t want to end up transferring to a different college and start all over. You like Hanley, right?
I take a deep breath to get her off my mind. But when I close my eyes, all I can see is the pair of hazel eyes. They used to caress me like the sun on a cold winter day, and then the warmth dissipated. But at the moment, I feel it again.
Chapter 3
Susie
I hand John his second shot of whiskey. John’s a regular customer at Sunset, a bar and restaurant I’ve been working for fifteen years.
“So how’s school?” he asks.
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Woman and math—I still find it hard to imagine.” John continues after sipping his drink, not bothering to hide his contempt over the other sex. But I’m used to his honesty, or lack of consideration. “Susie, with that body of yours, there are so many other things you can do!”
I blush. Another thing John never bothers to hide is his lust for the other sex. The way he says it, with his eyes boldly undressing me and caressing me, I know what things he imagines me doing, too.
John is in his late forties and very attractive. He’s never married but is always seeing someone. I have had thoughts about him after my divorce. How can I not? The man is quite a catch, and being wealthy and successful only makes him more desirable. But then I’m not ready for another man, not after being betrayed by one I invested a third of my life in.
Not hearing a reply from me, John lowers his voice. “And you could still easily find a man who would support you. You could live in comfort for the rest of your life, without working for another day.”
I marvel at his innuendo. What is he proposing? John owns many houses, and he often invites the staff of the bar to his homes for parties. I went to his penthouse condo right next to the bay bridge once. I was still married to Peter then, although he didn’t come with me saying he had to work overtime. In hindsight, he must’ve been spending time with his girlfriend instead.
I imagine living in that luxury condo, waiting for John to come home every night, until he gets tired of me. If I were fifteen years younger, I would probably be flattered and jump at the chance. But at thirty-six, I’m no longer naïve, even though not yet bitter.
“Thanks, John,” I say. “You made my day.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.” John doesn’t dwell on the topic, reminding me he owes his success to his patience, besides persistence.
I consider John’s hint for the rest of the night. It wouldn’t be that bad, would it?
And then I thought, what if I didn’t meet Peter? What would I be doing now? Would I be teaching at a university as a professor instead of a teaching assistant?
I met Peter in my junior year and quit school to support him. Our plan was he would get a job first, and then I would finish my degree. But he went on for a Ph.D. instead, and it took him forever because he wasn’t as bright as he thought. After he had gotten the degree, he couldn’t get a job that paid well. He wouldn’t get a teaching post either, saying he hated teaching. After spending another five years to pass all the exams, he finally got a six-figure job as an actuary at an insurance company. Just when I was about to quit my job at the bar and return to school, I found out about his affair with a secretary at his office. Our marriage lasted twelve years, and I wasted my golden time to build a life for another woman to enjoy. Peter was remorseful, but I was so brokenhearted I went through the divorce quickly without getting much compensation.
John gives me another lustful look before leaving the bar, reminding me of his intention.
/> Stephanie, the evening manager, comes over to stand on my side.
“Oh Susie, just what’s holding you back?”
I know what she’s hinting at, but I pretend to be dumb. “What do you mean?”
“I mean to warn you not to let the chance slip by! Here’s this eligible bachelor. Rich, handsome, and successful. And he has the hots for you.”
“Stop it,” I chide without meeting her gaze. “It’s not like you don’t know John. He just likes to flirt.”
“But he’s different when he’s around you,” she insists.
“I guess we’ve become good friends,” I mumble, still trying in vain to convince her, and maybe myself, that John doesn’t have any designs for me.
Stephanie sighs with exasperation. “Susie! I know your last marriage sucked and you don’t trust men, but guys like John don’t happen often. If I were single, I wouldn’t give it a second thought.”
She squeezes my arm before leaving to help a customer.
I consider it again. What Stephanie said makes sense, but I can’t make up my mind. Honestly, I can’t find any faults with John, except he has been quite a playboy in his younger years. I was probably attracted to him at some point in the past, and he’s undoubtedly an ideal partner with or without marriage. But I do not need a man in my life. I’m only too glad to be single, and I enjoy the freedom. I cook anything I like to eat and listen to the music or watch the channel I like. No one snores next to me at night. Less laundry to do. Why would I want to take care of another man? True, I might not need to pay the mortgage anymore in my life, and I wouldn’t need a master’s degree either. Hell, I wouldn’t have to work to earn a living. I could spend all my days to relax, watch TV, read, or shop… I meditate on the prospect for a minute and shake my head. I’m not sure that’s the life I want. I guess I’m born a worker, not a queen.
I don’t want to put my faith in another man. I’m not fragile but don’t want to risk my heart being smashed again.
I leave the bar at midnight and turn on my laptop as soon as I get home. I have to finish my thesis and get a full-time day job. I don’t mind tending bars and waiting at tables, but becoming a college professor has been my dream since high school.
Chapter 4
Tony
I’m practicing singles with Brandon when Laura shows up in a halter top that barely covers her flat chest and shorts showing her long skinny legs. “I’m going to Angelo’s. Do you guys want to come along?”
Brandon’s eyes fix on her legs for a moment, and he turns to look at me. I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“No, we’re fine,” he says to her.
“Are you sure? I could bring you something if you wish.”
“No, thanks,” I say.
“I would like a slice of Buffalo Chicken Pizza,” Brandon tells her.
“Sure.” Laura goes away after glancing at me again.
We stop playing soon after Laura leaves.
“When will you ask her out?”
“Who? Laura?”
“Yeah, idiot, she has the hots for you since like, the first day you showed up. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
“I haven’t. She’s nice to everyone.”
“No, she isn’t. She never asks me to lunch with her, not when I’m alone.”
I shrug. “She’s not my type.”
“What’s your type?”
Mature. Confident. Curvy. But I don’t speak. Instead, I change the topic. “How’re you doing in Math 1B?”
“Oh, I’m doing fine.”
“How’s your TA?”
“She’s awesome.”
“What’s her name again?”
“Bennett. Susie Bennett.”
“What does she do?”
“Well, she has a way to make it easy. I mean, you still have to do the work. But like, in class, she would have us work in groups.”
“Wow. Sounds great. My TA sucks. He keeps saying, ‘everybody gets it right?’ and no one says no, and he goes on to the next topic.”
“Bennett never does that. She doesn’t ask whether you get it, but she makes sure you do. Like, she has you do the problems on the board.”
“Really? That doesn’t sound fun.”
“Yeah, in the beginning, I hated it. But I kind of like it now. It works. And what I like most about her is you can ask for her help anytime, she never refuses. Last time she came to school on Sunday to give us a midterm review.”
“Wow, that good, huh?” I say, regretting not taking math last year. “I wish I took it with her. I think I’m failing the class.”
“I’m sorry, bro. You could probably take it with her next time.”
“Probably.”
“And she’s hot, too!” Brandon wiggles his eyebrows.
I’m not sure I like hearing that. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”
“C’mon. I know you’re into older chicks.”
I look away. “What do you mean?”
“You’re always checking them out. And you never care for the girls our age, like Laura.”
Shit. We’re pals, but Brandon isn’t supposed to be so fucking perceptive. He was teasing me when he asked me what my type was. I’ve got to be careful from now on.
I shrug. “Older women are sexier.”
“Have you had many?”
“Just a few.”
“What do they do?”
“They make me feel like a fucking God.”
“Wow.” Brandon blinks. “That sounds awesome.”
Chapter 5
Susie
I turn off the alarm clock screaming next to my ear and return to sleep. I didn’t go to bed until five in the morning, which was about two hours ago. When I wake again, it’s nearly noon. Damn. It’s Wednesday.
I don’t have to teach today, but I have to meet with Dr. Hoffman at one. No exams to grade, but he wants me to type and post his lecture notes online. I sigh. Actually, I made the suggestion to him. I’ve been trying to convince him to let me videotape his lectures and make them available for students to playback, but he opposes to idea vehemently, being concerned about his intellectual property rights. He agreed to post his lecture notes online only because I volunteered to type them up for him. I regret making that offer because it takes me hours every week, which I could use it to write my thesis instead. But it’s too late to back off, especially some students have told me they find it beneficial. I get up in a hurry and get dressed.
I’m editing Dr. Hoffman’s lecture notes when I hear a knock. I open the door and see the young man in T-shirt and shorts standing in the hallway, holding a tennis racquet in hand. It’s the student I saw a few days ago. I’m surprised to realize that because I seldom see students returning to the professor for help because no one could take the humiliation twice.
“Is Dr. Hoffman here?” he asks.
“He’s in a class. But he should be back in an hour for his office hours.” I say, not taking my eyes off him. He’s breathtakingly handsome.
“I know, but I have to go to my tennis practice.” He frowns slightly. “Could you please help me out? I have questions on the homework.”
I hesitate. Dr. Hoffman won’t be pleased if I don’t finish the notes in time, but the young man needs help.
“Sure,” I say.
He carries a chair over and sits down next to me. Before taking out a notebook from his backpack, he extends a hand to me. “I’m Tony.”
This confident gesture amuses me. I shake his hand, which is big and warm. I feel a tingling sensation in my belly, and I stammer. “It’s nice… er, to meet you, Tony. I’m Susie Bennett, Dr. Huff, I mean, Hoffman’s TA.”
“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Bennett!” He grins.
His bright smile takes my breath away, and I again regret wearing the ring. I fight the impulse to correct him and to tell him I’m not married. “Call me Susie,” I say.
It takes Tony a moment to find the problem he has questions about, and when I explain the p
roblem to him, I notice he isn’t paying full attention. His eyes aren’t on the notes I’m writing, but they fix on my face and my body. I’m wearing a blouse that covers my front decently, although it can’t hide the contours of my D cup breasts. He can probably take a peek through the gaps between the buttons too. I pretend not to be aware of his hot gaze, but it’s not possible. My consciousness interferes with my thoughts, and what I say hardly makes sense anymore. Besides, Tony’s breath has become quick and ragged, and I can even feel his rising body temperature.
Just as when I reach the point of being suffocated by the heat surrounding me, my stomach rumbles. I giggle with embarrassment. I left my house in a hurry and haven’t had time to eat.
Tony chuckles too, and pulls out a brown bag from his backpack, saying that it contains a brown sugar coffee cake. “I got it at the café downstairs on my way up. But I don’t really need it.”
As much as I wish to, I can’t bring myself to accept it. “No thanks. You need the energy to practice your tennis. I’ll go get lunch soon.”
Tony thinks for a second before he takes out the cake and breaks it into half over a napkin. “Let’s share it.”
I hesitate. This seems to be very intimate. But I don’t have the heart to refuse either, seeing the eagerness on his face.
“Thank you!” I take the cake from him. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Sure!”
I pour him a cup of coffee and place it on my desk. He moves his chair closer and we sit side by side.
The coffee cake coated with brown sugar turns out to be great, or perhaps I’m starving. “Hmm,” I moan appreciatively as soon as I bite into it. “It’s good.”
“I’m glad you like it. It’s my favorite.”
“Me, too!” I cover my mouth while speaking. “I love everything with brown sugar.”
“Really? I’m glad we have something in common!” Tony raises his hand for a high five.