Teacher's Pet - A Standalone Novel (A Teacher Student Romance)

by Claire Adams

  Paul, my father's personal chef, smiled as he continued to work. "Everything will be ready to go with easy instructions in here." He handed the leather-bound folder to Corsica. "And I made sure to buy all the ingredients for your sauce. If there's no comfort food, he'll never survive."

  Corsica climbed onto the stool next to my father and started flipping through the menu and instructions. "This is fantastic. I'm sure Alice will approve."

  "Alice hates that I have a chef. She says you can't get what you need from food unless you prepare it yourself, have a real connection with the ingredients." Xavier grinned.

  Corsica laughed. "How on earth did two such polar opposites ever meet in the first place?"

  I got in the way of the kitchen staff until Paul handed me a beer. Then, all I could do was lean against the counter in the corner and watch Corsica smile at my father. I didn't want to admit I was curious. I had never heard the story of how my parents met.

  "The first start-up I ever invested in liked to have company retreats out in the desert down near Joshua Tree. I didn't intend to stay, but then I saw their guide.

  “Alice was like a mirage, all flowing clothes the color of water. I told her I was an intern, and everyone in the company had to go along with it. I stayed in the desert for three days just to be near her."

  "Eating campfire food?" Paul asked, eyes wide with shock.

  Xavier laughed. "What can I say? It was love at first sight."

  Everyone was smiling at the story, but I couldn't feel it. All I noticed was that my parents' relationship had started with a lie.

  Alice would have loved taking the lowest man on the food chain and lifting him up. I knew my father had been that start-up’s angel investor, and they would have treated him like royalty or lied right alongside him to trick a compassionate woman.

  Paul and his efficient assistants bundled up their crates and said goodbye. Corsica was talking to my father about the trumpet player Bill knew. I wanted to tear her away from him, tell her again how he was the monster from my memories, but she was happy. So, I slipped away and was more than surprised when her slim hand caught my arm.

  "How about we listen to a little music before we go to bed?" she asked.

  "There's a stereo in my, our room," I said. It was like a dream to lead her down the hallway and into my suite. Xavier was finishing up work at the kitchen island and waved his goodnight. Corsica had to come with me to keep up our show.

  It irked me how my own white lies reminded me of my father's story, but I was too happy to have her to myself to dwell on it.

  Corsica quickly searched my music library and found the trumpet player Bill had mentioned. The music was mellow with the rhythm a lightly stirred drum and the trumpet as smooth as honey. It was the perfect excuse to draw her into my arms.

  "The door's closed; we don't have to pretend," Corsica said as her arms slipped around my waist.

  "What if I don't want to pretend anymore?"

  Her lips met mine with a shock that kept my eyes open. Then, the taste of her, the soft contours, and the way her breath slipped in and out of mine had my eyes closing on a sigh of ecstasy.

  Corsica gave in, her head leaning back to let me in. Her feet didn't resist as I backed her towards my bed. I laid her down, her lips still sparring with wet desire, and they didn't pull away when I leaned over her. Balanced on one arm, I let my other hand roam and found her arching her back to encourage my touch.

  My hand was on the hem of her dress when my phone rang. I took my hand from her hot body and prepared to hurl the phone across the room. Then, I saw the caller and sat up.

  "Shit. It's work. I have to take this," I said.

  Corsica sprang up from the bed and headed to the door. "You're right. We should stick to business."

  Chapter Twelve

  Penn

  I leaned on the counter and listened to the bacon sizzle. My coffee was cool, but I still sipped at it as I tried not to watch the door. I shifted and paced the length of the kitchen.

  Cooking wasn't really my thing, and breakfast had never been more than a granola bar. I walked back and jabbed at the bacon, telling myself it was just normal insomnia. It had nothing to do with Corsica storming out of my room.

  She had been there, laid out across my bed, and the image of that had tortured me all night long.

  I cracked eggs into the pan and scrambled them. Why not make toast, too? It was something to do since I couldn't sleep. I thought of all the mornings I had lounged around in bed reading the news and wondered if I would ever get back there.

  Corsica was a morning person. Her door opened at almost the same early hour every morning, and she went straight out the front door on a run. Then she came back smelling of salt air and the delicious musk of her own sweat.

  My mouth watered as I dumped the bacon and eggs on a plate and ignored them. All I was doing was waiting for Corsica, and admitting it twisted something in my gut.

  "Wow, it smells fantastic in here," she said, bursting in the front door.

  "Go ahead, I'm not really hungry," I said.

  "Up late working?" Corsica asked with a cool lift of her eyebrow. She snagged a piece of bacon off my plate and crunched it. "I didn't take you as an early riser."

  Her hair was damp with sweat at the temples, her cheeks bright and warm, but her body was loose and relaxed. I kneaded at my own tight neck and felt the knot in my stomach cinch. Corsica was irresistible. She crunched the bacon and frowned as she fiddled with her pedometer, and I wanted to press my lips to the faint crease in her forehead.

  "Need a hand?" I stepped around the kitchen island and cornered her between two stools.

  Corsica's nostrils flared, but she held out the device. "I like tracking the mileage, but somehow I lost today's run."

  I took my time working through the menu and screens. The data was easy to retrieve, but I couldn't pry myself away from the warm sheen of her skin. "Here it is."

  "Thanks," Corsica took her pedometer and moved to scoot around me.

  I ignored her hint. "I never understood running."

  Her soft lips frowned. "What's not to understand? It's a great workout with minimal equipment. And you burn the most calories in a short amount of time."

  "Sure, sure, it's practical. Are you really always so practical?" I caught her eyes.

  Corsica tossed her hair. "As if you don't work out."

  I liked the way she eyed my arm muscles, but when her gaze raked across my abs, the knot inside me burned. "I just like to have fun when I do it. There are plenty of fun ways to burn more calories than running."

  "I don't have time for anything but running," Corsica said. She pushed past me and grabbed another piece of bacon. "My letters of recommendation came in. I have to polish up my resume and make sure my cover letter puts me on the top of the pile. I've got to send it in this morning."

  I flipped my fork into my hand and picked at the scrambled eggs. "So, you're not going to the audition?"

  Corsica's eyes narrowed. "What audition?"

  "Check your phone. I called the resort and booked you an audition. Bill got in touch with that trumpet player, and he'll be there too. Just in case you inspire him to put his trio back together."

  Her cool facade burned off like morning fog. Corsica bounced back to the kitchen island and leaned across it. "You can't be serious."

  "What if I told you that was the phone call I took last night?"

  Corsica studied me. "Liar. Nice try, though."

  I groaned. "Fine, you caught me. But I'm not working now. Maybe we should finish what we started?"

  She laughed in my face. "Sorry. Can't. I've got to get ready for my audition. I've got to pick a song and practice! This takes singing in the shower to a whole new level."

  "I could help with that," I flung out.

  Corsica rolled her eyes. "Stop teasing me. I have to concentrate. Do you think it would be too cheesy to sing one of his songs? Yeah, probably. Though, I was really enjoying that album last
night."

  "I'd be happy to play it for you again." I knew there was a hint of desperation in my voice, but I didn't care. There was no way I would be able to get anything done until I got Corsica out of my system.

  She lifted herself across the counter and kissed my cheek. Before I could catch her hands and turn it into a real kiss, she slipped away with a bright smile. "Thank you for getting me the audition! I know you probably just want to get me out of your hair so you can work, but I really appreciate it."

  "That's not-" It was too late. Corsica was already bounding away on her long legs. "How about I come with you to the club? Take you out afterward to celebrate?" I called.

  She didn't answer, and I sunk against the counter. I knew she was excited, but I couldn't believe she wouldn't even make plans with me. I slashed at the scrambled eggs. Corsica was right: now I had time to work. I dumped the eggs into the garbage. Too bad work was the last thing on my mind.

  I needed fresh air. More than that, I needed to get away from the siren song of Corsica practicing in the shower, and the slick and torturous images that brought to mind.

  An hour later, I thanked all the powers that be for my job. Each breath was a hot fire as I pushed the pedals faster, but the new road tires were holding up well.

  It wasn't so much work as a perk of my job that I got to test out the latest technology, and the newly designed bike tires were the best excuse to get outside that I could find. It didn't make a difference if the course I chose dropped me onto the same drive as the resort.

  The images of Corsica were still bright in my head. Her surrendering onto my soft bed, her skin flushed pink from her morning run, and the teasing bounce as she left me in the kitchen all flashed through my head as I pulled into the parking lot. So what if I was just in time to catch the tail end of her audition. I was out testing the new road tires and just happened to end up in the same place.

  Just to prove that I was not in a hurry to see Corsica singing, I snatched my phone out of my pocket. The quick conversation with my techs about the tire performance took less than a minute. Satisfied, I climbed off the bike and started up the front steps of the resort. Maybe I could clean up before ducking into the lounge and hearing Corsica's final song.

  "Penn? How great to see you. I was wondering if you were planning on dropping off the face of the earth," Alicia simpered before she was within five feet of me.

  Once she closed in, Alicia reached out to wrap an arm around mine, but I stopped her. "Sorry, I was out testing some equipment. You caught me all sweaty."

  She fought her distaste and smiled. "How very manly. How do I know you weren't out chasing me? Seems like a coincidence to find you here right after my weekly massage."

  "Actually, it's not so much a coincidence as I'm meeting someone here," I said. I felt a strong pull towards Corsica and wanted nothing to do with the cloying heiress. "Nice to see you though."

  "Nice to see me?" Alicia said, her smile fading to a ghost. "We used to run into each other and spend the next five days together. Remember when we started with dinner and ended in Moscow?"

  "Probably not as well as I should," I admitted. "I'd love to relive old times, but I am actually meeting someone."

  Alicia's eyes turned shrewd. "So am I. You might have heard of him-Steven Mayer."

  I stopped and turned around on the top step. "The sports clothes designer? That Steven Mayer?"

  "Yes," her smile curved in calculation. "Haven't you been trying to meet him these last few months?"

  "He's been busy," I frowned. I didn't want to, but I took a step down towards Alicia. "I didn't know he was going to be in California."

  Alicia tossed her silky hair. "He changed his mind when I mentioned the fun we had at last year's celebrity golf tournament. We're having drinks before he settles into his hotel."

  It was a very attractive net that Alicia spread, but I didn't want to get caught up in it. Alicia was very wealthy and very beautiful, so she was used to people bending to suit her. I'd tried it before, believing that she was worth it.

  For my effort, I had been scrutinized and critiqued. When I didn't adjust my looks or my life to fit the perfect picture in her head, Alicia had shown her spoiled side. It was all my fault, of course, but our unrealized romance never got off the ground. Too bad she couldn't leave it alone.

  I took a deep breath and pictured Corsica up on stage. Just the thought had my chest pumping. "Let Steven know I say hi. If he's free, I'd love to sit down with him for a few minutes."

  Alicia tittered and wrapped an arm hard around mine. "Darling, that's the whole idea. He's free right now for drinks. I told him I might invite a few friends. Though," her gaze swept over me, "you might want to get cleaned up."

  "Where are you meeting him?" I fought the words, but I had to ask.

  "Here," Alicia said. "I was just running out to my car because I forgot my phone. He'll be here any minute. Come on, we'll get settled at the table and order the first round."

  I didn't have time to answer because a black town car swept into the driveway. Before the driver could reach the back door, Steven Mayer swung it open himself and climbed out. "Alicia, you look more beautiful here than in Paris. How is that possible?"

  Alicia laughed. "Steven, darling, I'm so glad you could make it. I know it seems set up, but I literally just this moment ran into Penn here on the steps. Penn, you remember Steven Mayer?"

  I appreciated her perfect set-up, but it still bothered me. The voice that boomed from my chest sounded more like my father than me. "Steven, nice to see you on the West Coast. I've been watching your clothing lines sneak into the bigger stores all summer."

  "Penn Templeton," Steven slapped me on the back. "I hope you don't think I've been avoiding you. I've been trying to grow the new lines slowly and not oversell the market. Now that I think they've got a solid market, I'd be ready to hear some of your ideas for crossovers."

  I had the words ready and rehearsed. The short speech was the perfect blend of compliments, challenges, and suggestions for how our two companies could forge a mutually beneficial relationship. I listened to myself as if from a distance. The pandering was enough to make me sick, but I kept telling myself the deal was worth it.

  Until I saw Corsica. She stood under the awning outside the lounge and pretended she couldn't hear us. The dazzling smile that signified the success of her audition faded as she heard my practiced spiel. I was practically begging him to work with me. Corsica already thought I was the black sheep, but now she thought I was squeezing cash out of my rich connections.

  "Penn?" Alicia tightened her grip on my arm. "Why don't you let us get settled before you talk any more business? I have a table waiting for us in the lounge."

  She started to pull me towards the awning and then stopped when she saw Corsica.

  "I'd love to hear more, Penn," Steven said with an indulgent smile. "As long as Alicia can put up with a little shop talk."

  Alicia tossed her hair and laughed again. "I don't mind a bit. Penn has great ideas that I'm sure you'll like, and then we can all celebrate."

  I watched as Corsica slipped away, and her shoulders were stiff. I felt the same stiffness steal over my body, the weight of the perfect payback. Here I had been making fun of Corsica for wanting to spend her life scrambling around after the rich, and she had just seen me doing the exact same thing.

  It was no use leaving to chase her. I refused any more than one drink. That turned out to be a good idea because Steven was much more open to working with me when he knew I was going to leave him alone with Alicia. We made plans to finalize our business, and I took off as quickly as I could. I got the bonus of trying out the new bike headlights on the way home and made it to the house just as the sun finished setting.

  I was just in time to see two people walk out the front door, hand in hand, and stroll down the path to the beach. I squinted in the pinkish light and realized it was not my father and mother, but a younger couple. Then I saw Corsica's curls waving in the
wind, and I marched down the path after them.

  "I can't believe you drove here just to see me," Corsica said. Her voice was soft and breathless. "That's so sweet, Joshua."

  My fingers clenched into a fist as Joshua intertwined his hands with Corsica's. "What can I say? I've been missing you. It was totally unfair of me to expect you to graduate and jump right into everything. I mean, I've had a year since I graduated, and I remember what it was like at the start."

  Corsica let him tug her closer. "I'm still figuring everything out. There have been some amazing opportunities that have come up, and I don't want to choose something I'll later regret."

  "Like missing out on the Ritz-Carlton job?" Joshua asked.

  "Actually-"

  "Corsica, please. I'm just thinking of what's best for you."

  I couldn't stand it anymore and marched over the sand dune so they noticed me. "Hey! There you are. How was the audition?" I called out.

  Corsica jumped and loosened her fingers from Joshua's grip. "It went really well, thank you. I got the gig."

  Joshua frowned. "Gig?"

  "Don't say it like it's a dirty word," Corsica said. "I'm going to sing with a jazz trio at a very nice resort."

  "Singing? Again, Corsica?" Joshua looked at me and crossed his arms. His distasteful look made it clear he blamed it all on me.

  I answered his accusation by lifting Corsica up into a spinning hug. "Congratulations! I knew it was more than just a hobby. And I think it'll suit you more than licking boots at some snooty hotel."

  Joshua tugged down the front of his jacket. "There's a big difference between a gig and a career. I know you obviously don't want to hear my advice, but I seriously think you should reconsider. Get your job and your finances all squared away, and then you can pursue anything you want without ruining your life."

  "Or do you mean her credit?" I asked. "You sound like a banker. Can't you be happy for her?"

  Corsica snapped out of her thoughts and stepped between us. "Joshua is happy for me, and he also has a good point."