by Lila Younger
“Sorry about that, Taylor. Are you having a good day today?”
That was strange. I’m used to Barry acting sour, or angry, or just plain annoying. A… pleasant Barry? That was weird. I almost want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.
“Good enough,” I say curtly as I fill up at the water cooler. Whatever is in the food Barry’s cooking is starting to make ominous exploding noises. I have no doubt that the asshole isn’t going to clean it up either.
“I think it’s about to get a lot better,” he says way too jovially.
I spin the lid closed and hurry out. He’s giving me the creeps and I don’t have time for this conversation anyways. There’s something going on with him, but it’ll have to wait. I’m almost at the elevators when Hilda pops out of her office and calls for me.
“Ian,” she says hurriedly. “Thank goodness I caught you. I’m afraid Dean Rodney wants to have a word with you. Right now.”
“I have a class right now Hilda,” I say with a frown. “You didn’t tell him?”
“I did, but he insisted. Says he’ll make sure your class is covered.”
Hilda’s pushes up her glasses and looks at me with worry. I don’t know what’s going on, but I bet it has something to do with why Barry is so damn cheerful right now. I give her a reassuring smile and press the button to go upstairs instead of down.
Dean Rodney’s office is on the top floor, the better to look over his domain I guess. His secretary waves me through immediately when she sees me, which is another worrying sign. Men like Dean Rodney enjoy making people wait. Makes them feel powerful I guess. In a way he’s like my father. I walk through the doors and close it behind me. The whole office is done up to make it look as though it’s as old as the university even though I know for a fact that this building wasn’t around back then. I have to wonder if this is where all our generous donations have gone to for the school because there are some really nice antique pieces. The dean is sitting at his enormous desk writing, but he stops when he sees me and takes off his glasses.
“Come sit Taylor,” he says, gesturing towards a tufted wingback chair facing him.
I sit down cautiously.
“I don’t know how to say this,” Dean Rodney starts with a sigh. “Except: did you have to do it in your office? Isn’t that a bit of a cliché?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me Taylor. I’ve been told by Bergman that you’re diddling one of your students in your office.”
Everything clicks together, but I’m not stupid enough to just admit it. Firstly because I wouldn’t put it past Barry to make something up, and secondly because I’m worried about Kaitlyn. I don’t want her to be involved in this mess, because that’s exactly what it’s going to become if word gets out.
“Bergman hates me because he thinks I stole his position,” I say flatly. “He’ll do anything to get me out of that office.”
“Yes I thought as much. He seemed awfully pleased when he came running to me. Unfortunately he’s got a recording, and he’s not afraid to use it to get what he wants.” Dean Rodney fixes me with a baleful glare. “Couldn’t you have been more discreet about this whole thing?”
“Hold on a minute. Recording?!”
The dean waves around his phone.
“Do you need to hear it?”
“No,” I say stiffly. “I can’t believe Barry’s been spying on me.”
“He didn’t have to. He saw the girl go in your office, and went into the one beside yours. Don’t you know how thin those walls are?” Oh do I ever. Especially after the last time Winkleman’s wife tore into him for working late.
“Then you should have known not to rendezvous there. For God’s sake. The only saving grace I can see is you had the decency to pick a student who’s not underage.”
The dean goes on a little while longer about my utter stupidity before he wraps up.
“You’re going to sign this resignation letter before you go,” he says. “I don’t want you out of here until you do. You’re to leave campus immediately after. I’ll get your stuff packed up and sent to your house later today.”
“You want me to resign right now?” My head is spinning from how fast this is all happening.
“Of course I want you to resign right now. Be glad you’re not getting fired. The Taylors have always been good friends of the university, so I have no desire to drag your name through the mud. Maybe you’ll even be able to find a place elsewhere. But your old friend Bergman’s made it clear that you’re to go or he’ll be posting the recording up on the Internet. And then we’ll definitely have a lawsuit on our hands. Does the girl listen to you? Can you make sure she and her family doesn’t sue?”
I think about Kaitlyn and shake my head.
“She’s not going to sue.”
“Good. That’s at least one good thing you did. Make sure you don’t piss her off until she graduates, you hear me son? Now hurry up.”
He hands me a pen and the piece of paper he was writing on. There’s a typed up letter of resignation ready to go. I take the pen and sign it woodenly. Just like that my teaching career is over. Dean Rodney takes the paper and files it away, then looks up at me.
“Well what are you waiting for? Time for you to go. Make sure you tell your father that everything is getting handled with utmost discretion.”
My father. Of course he’s gone and told my father. Probably weaseled a big fat check out of him for it too. Suddenly I’m filled with utter disgust about the whole thing. I stand up and leave without a goodbye. I’m still shellshocked by how quickly things went down, but I know that I have to text Kaitlyn.
We’ve been found out. I resigned. Don’t worry, I’ve made sure that your name won’t be revealed.
There’s more I want to say, but I don’t have the brain power to. The halls are quiet as I walk through them to get to the car park. Class is in session after all. I wonder who’s doing my lecture. I almost want to stop in and see, but I realize it’s probably Barry and I don’t think I can look the guy in the face without wanting to punch him so I just go.
Chapter 11
Kaitlyn
To say I’m surprised when Ian texts me is an understatement. He usually doesn’t message me during work hours, but then again, we’ve never had sex in his office either. Maybe he just got excited by it too? But when I check the message and see the text, my stomach sinks to my feet. How could we have been discovered, and so quickly? Was it because of what we did in the office? I quickly fire off a reply, but he doesn’t respond. I guess maybe he’s got to clean out his office or something. I feel terrible though. Because of me, he’s had to leave the job he’s worked so hard to get.
I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to get out of this class and go to him, but the other part of me is unsure. The way he worded his message, so stiff and formal sounding, makes me wonder if he blames me. If maybe we are over too. I’m debating what to do when I notice a murmur starting up in my class. I have no idea what’s going on. My professor is incredibly hard of hearing, so he doesn’t notice a thing, but everyone else is muttering, and now some people are even turning around to stare at me. At least, I think it’s me? I turn around just in case.
Nope. They’re staring at me too. My eyes dart around, trying to figure out what’s going on, when a girl in the row ahead of me leans back. She’s looking at me with something like admiration.
“So is it true?” she whispers.
“Is what true?”
“That you’re sleeping with Taylor?”
“No. It’s not,” I snap automatically. “Where are you hearing about this?”
“It’s all over the school newspaper. Like, front page news.”
She lifts up her phone so I can see. I can’t believe it. There in bold letters is the headline ‘Earning Her A? Honors Student Caught with Billionaire Professor’.” I read it over twice. I can’t believe it. Does Jason know about this? He has to, he’s the editor-in-chief. Why would he prin
t this? I’m hurt and confused by the knife in my back, and the room is filled with a buzzing sound. I’m trying to figure out how he even knew, because I know I didn’t tell him, and Ian wouldn’t either.
“Does the whole school know?” I ask the girl.
“Probably,” she says. “It’s all over Facebook. I’d… probably skip reading the comments if I were you. There’s some pretty pissed people. But way to go, is what I say. Why shouldn’t women enjoy the whole student-teacher thing as much as men do?”
All I really catch is the fact that it’s on Facebook. Is that why Ian’s fired? He said it would be contained, but clearly whoever got him fired didn’t care. I need to speak to Jason right away. I slam my notebook shut and grab my things. My doddering old Professor finally stops his lecture and peers at me through his thick glasses.
“Kaitlyn? Is something the matter?” he asks bewildered by the fact that I’m peacing out in the middle of class.
“Stomach ache,” I say tersely. “Sorry. I have to go.”
I quickly leave before he can say anything else, the whispers starting up again behind me. I’m on a warpath, and getting more pissed with every step. I know that on Monday afternoons Jason can be found at the school newspaper frantically putting together the print edition for tomorrow. In fact, I’m surprised that he didn’t keep the news a secret until tomorrow since he’s always so worried about his precious paper’s numbers.
I burst through the doors of the newsroom. There’s a first year student there writing something on one of the computers, but one look at my face and he scrambles out. Jason’s at his desk at the front of the room.
“Jason! What the hell did you do?!” I yell.
“I take it you’ve read the blog post?” He’s calm, like maybe I was reading about school’s team score instead of my own private affairs.
“Read it? Of course I read it! How could you do this to me?” I fume. “And to Ian. He got fired today!”
“He did?”
“Of course he did. What’s the dean supposed to go? Clap him on the back for sleeping with his student?”
I’m so angry I want to shake him out of his chair. How can he be so infuriatingly calm about this? He basically ruined someone’s life for good, and maybe mine too. I mean, once it’s on the Internet, it’s there forever.
“Maybe Ian should have thought about that before he took advantage of you,” Jason says annoyingly. “Professors do have a code of ethics to abide by.”
“But it wasn’t, it wasn’t like that.”
“It wasn’t like what?”
“You make it sound so… dirty in your article. But grades has nothing to do with it. And it just happened that he was my teacher and I was his student.”
“Oh come on Kaitlyn,” he says, rolling his eyes. “As if it could be anything else. The guy’s a playboy. He saw you and took advantage of the fact that you’re naive and had his way with you. It was wrong, and I’m glad he got reported. You should be thanking me. I bet you anything Dean Rodney was ready to cover it all up in exchange for some juicy donation. Now you can sue the school, sue him, or hell, sue them both. That’ll be your graduate school paid for right there.”
“And what do you get out of it?” I ask, because I’m starting to think that there has to be.
“Well, The Seattle Times has come knocking,” he says, holding up his phone. “And the Oregonian.”
I stare at him as though he’s grown another head. Where the hell is my friend? I want to yell at him some more, but I’m clearly wasting my breath.
Tiffany. That’s who I need right now. I beeline it home faster than I ever have. Is this why Ian didn’t reply to my message? Could he possibly think that I had something to do with this mess? That maybe I was using him to get his money or something? The thought that Ian might think that turns my stomach. I want to go to him, but his silence makes it clear that the last thing he wants to do is talk to me.
I’m turning onto our street when I see something that lifts up my heart. It’s Ian’s car in the driveway of our house. I jog up the sidewalk and there he is getting out of the car. I swallow hard because I’m hit once again by how devastatingly handsome, how wonderful he really is. I rush to try and fix things.
“Ian! I’m so sorry-”
“Kaitlyn, I came to apologize-”
We both stop and he gives me a smile that makes me weak with relief. He’s not angry with me. Ian steps forward until he’s got his arms around my waist, holding me close. He leans down for a long deep kiss, his tongue parting my lips. I’m kissing him back too, melting in his arms, but suddenly I remember that we’re out in my yard, not inside. All the anxiety and guilt I felt comes crashing down on me and I pull back like I got shocked.
“Wait. Aren’t you worried about the neighbors?” I ask, brows furrowed.
“Not anymore,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine. “I’m not your professor anymore remember?”
I feel a stab of guilt again.
“About that,” I say. “I don’t know how Jason got a hold of the fact that we’re in a relationship. I swear that it wasn’t me who told him. I can’t even believe he’d print all that stuff without telling me first at least.”
“I believe you. And I have a suspicion on who it is. He’s been wanting my job since the beginning, and this just guarantees that I won’t be able to get it back,” he says grimly.
“I’m sorry. Because of me, you can’t teach anymore. I know how much you loved it.”
Ian tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and gives me another kiss.
“I liked teaching,” he corrects me. “But I love you. I wanted to go into academia to prove a point to my father, but I don’t have to work for a living. What I can’t do without, is you. And there is a silver lining to all of this. Now that I’m not your professor, we don’t have to go sneaking around anymore. We can hold hands in public, we can go on dates, and we can be together wherever you choose to do graduate school too. I’m not tied to this place anymore. Most importantly, I can call you my girlfriend.”
My heart swells up with emotion. He looks genuinely happy, and I start to believe his words.
“So you aren’t angry with me?” I ask, just to be sure.
“No. Just the opposite in fact. I love you Kaitlyn, and I want us to be together. Now tell me about this article your so called friend wrote.”
I quickly explain about the blog post, how Jason sold me out for a chance to write for the papers. The news is going to be big. Really big.
“What do you want to do?” he asks me.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I already know that my dad’s going to be on damage control. The story is going to die here with the TAU Chronicle I can promise you that. But the whole school knows, and you’re going to be the big piece of gossip for the next few weeks. Did you want to stay for that? Or maybe I can make other arrangements?”
I shake my head.
“I want to finish out here. I’ve only got a few weeks left. Plus, my Grandma really wants to be there for graduation, and I’ve done this as much for her as myself since she never got the chance to. But after that… well, it would be nice to visit all those museums you told me about in person.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he says, pulling me close to him again. “But tonight you’re going to be moving in with me. I want to wake up to you every morning, and go to bed with you every night. No more hiding.”
“No more hiding,” I agree, and kiss him again, because now we can.
Epilogue
Kaitlyn
Four months later…
I cut open another box and smile in triumph. I knew that the cutlery got misplaced into the dining room boxes. I happily dig out the cutlery holder and begin to sort out the forks and knives and spoons scattered around the bottom of the box. Everything’s finally all moved in, and I’ve gotten sick and tired of eating out while we were living in the hotel, so I’ve sent Ian out for groceries while I unpack our kitch
en. The house is wonderful, a gorgeous old brownstone with real hardwood floors, crown molding and working fireplaces. Milo isn’t as excited as we are, but he’s found a spot to stare out at passersby in the window so I think he likes it too.
Once I’ve put all the cutlery away, I start to look around for the everyday dishes. Ian’s place had come completely furnished, so I didn’t need to buy anything extra, but finishing up the semester in his house has made it that his things are my things too. At first I was disconcerted by just how much wealth he has, but he never seems to care, and slowly I’ve gotten used to it too. Moving in with him was definitely the right move for us. It’s proved to me that what we have is the real thing, not just a bit of fantasy. The move to New York is good too. It’s a fresh start, and even though it was hard to say goodbye to Grandma, I know that there are tons of museums here where I have a shot at getting a position. My parents were thrilled by the fact that I wouldn’t be going home, and promptly turned my room into a study. At one point I would have been hurt, but now nothing can get me down.
That’s because I got a job at the Whitney Museum. In fact, I think as my heart skips a beat, I should probably start preparing after dinner for my first day. It’s just a lowly museum technician position, but it’s a foot in the door, and that’s the most important thing. Plus, it didn’t require any of Ian’s connections either. I’m determined to make it on my own career-wise, especially since he wants to provide in every other way.
Just then, Ian comes back in, arms weighed down with a bunch of plastic bags. I hurry to help him bring everything in. It looks like he’s bought out the grocery store, and there are quite a few fancy things in the bags. Cheeses, olive oils, some nice bottles of wine…
“Is there something special going on tonight?” I ask.
“Well it’s our first dinner in the house,” he says. “How’s the unpacking?”
“Good. I found the cutlery, but the dishes are still lost.”
Ian comes over to me, sliding arms around me from behind as I open up more boxes. I turn around and sigh with exasperation, but I’ve got a smile on my face. Instead of putting the food away, he’s stripped off his clothes. I can feel him unbuttoning my jeans, then diving in to finger my cleft. His cock presses against my ass through my jeans, the thick material doing nothing to hide how hard he is. He lifts up my shirt over my head and tosses it somewhere in the towers of boxes around the room.