Naughty Professor - A Standalone Teacher Romance

by Claire Adams

  “Yes, it's not a problem at all. I prefer to keep things informal,” I smiled, gritting my teeth as I took my hand back. I sat in the desk chair, watching her fidget with the sides of her dress.

  “So, tell me about yourself, Mary,” I requested. Her eyes widened more.

  “Um, well… I’m a big, no, a huge fan of Bleeding Heart. I've seriously followed you guys from the first album! I've got all the live DVDs, too, and um… Well, all right, I think I should talk more about my actual work experience, right?”

  “Yes, please,” I replied, “I'm flattered that you're such a fan, but I really do need to hear about what you feel qualifies you for this position, if you don't mind.”

  She let out a nervous laugh. “I um… I love music. I’ve managed a few tours, um…” She bit her lip and fidgeted more. I glanced down at her resume. She actually had some legit experience with several bands, but if she was this nervous around me, how would she be around the rest of the band…or even just Talon?

  “Sorry I’m so nervous. I am just a really big fan of you guys. I had no idea you would be here in person for the interview when they called me,” she apologized, a frown on her face. “I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be acting like this. It's just, it's just that... Well, wow, I never thought I'd actually be meeting you face to face.”

  “Can you tell me about the tours you managed? Were they larger scale tours, local indie tours?” I asked, trying to avoid a repeat of interview number one.

  “I, um…both. Uh…sorry.”

  I frowned. This was not going well at all. And besides, despite her gushing, my thoughts kept returning to Nalia. She’d set the bar fairly high. So much so, it was getting rather difficult to concentrate on what this girl was actually saying. Still, I breathed in and out slowly and tried to force all of the thoughts of Nalia out of my head.

  “This job would be very demanding. Three months of hard work, being stuck with us on a bus nearly 24/7. A lot is riding on this tour, so there would be a lot of pressure on you, including promotions, marketing, setting up interviews, and more. Not to mention the stress of keeping all of the band members in line and on schedule. And I'll tell you this, some of us can be a real handful, especially out there on the road. Do you think you could handle those kind of high pressure situations?”

  She bit her lip, her frown deepening. I took that to be a probable no from her as she fidgeted with her dress more.

  “I am crazy nervous. And, I’m doing horrible with this interview, aren’t I?” she asked, her eyes getting a little misty.

  God, please no, not another crier.

  “It’s not that. My concern is that if you’re this nervous around me, how will you be around the rest of the band? Working with them daily and keeping them in line, on top of all the duties that would be your responsibility. It's going to require someone who is totally unfazed by our celebrity status. Someone who is willing to look past all of that and put duty and responsibility first. Someone who is able to exercise very strict self-control.”

  With that, a few tears streamed down her cheek and she sniffled. I cursed a few choice phrases in my head and looked for Mike since the office door had been left open on this one. He was standing at the end of the hall. I shook my head and nodded for him to come get her.

  “I’m sorry, Mary. I’m sure you’re good at what you do, but I think we need someone that isn’t such a huge fan to be our assistant on the road. It's just that we have so much riding on this tour, and we're going to need someone who treats us as if we're students who need to be shepherded in the right direction, not a fan who is star struck and lets us get away with anything,” I told her sympathetically and offered her a hug as she stood up to leave.

  She squeezed me tight and sniffled, or was she sniffing me? Was that a thing now? When she released me, I added a little something to soften the blow because she did have decent qualifications. “Mary, why don’t you meet with one of the staffing assistants here later this week and see what positions you might qualify for at Young Records. We are always looking for bright talent in some of our departments.”

  “Thank you so much,” she said, her face lighting up a little.

  Mike took her away and I felt some relief. Not just due to her absence, but at the thought of Nalia. She was my girl for the job, and of that fact I was now absolutely sure…without a shadow of a doubt.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Nalia

  I couldn’t believe how well the interview had gone. What’s more, it actually was Owen Young from Bleeding Heart who conducted it. I couldn’t wait to tell Grace. She was going to freak out over the fact that I had sat across from him, and there was no doubt in my mind that she'd be super jealous.

  But not as much as she would be when she learned I was set to have a second interview with him tomorrow! I could hardly believe my luck; maybe things were finally going in the right direction for me. There was no way I could have imagined all of this turning out as well as it had for me so far.

  How was such a huge change possible in such a short span of time? It was just the day before that I was unemployed, scrounging my last pennies together and thinking of moving out of this town. Now, there I was, looking as if I may well be taking on a ten-thousand-dollar-a-month job, working with one of the biggest rock bands in the industry! I was practically skipping as I walked down the sidewalk to the dive bar/wing house that had been my last job location.

  I hadn’t lasted very long there. The job had been a terrible idea and an absolute nightmare. I’d dreaded going to work so much that I was constantly late, and I apparently didn’t dress slutty enough for them, either. Could have fooled me, though, considering all the drunken creeps who hit on me, or worse, the completely smashed assholes who managed to grab my ass or tried to cop a feel of my breasts as I had walked by them.

  Nope, I did not miss that place. At all.

  I cringed a little as I walked in through the front door. The smell of barbecue and beer hit my nose immediately. I spotted the new manager behind the bar and headed for her, hoping to get it over with as quickly as possible. The less time I spent in that dump the better.

  “Hi, Allison, here to pick up my last check.” I plopped down on one of the barstools. Allison looked frustrated and judging by the slow service, completely understaffed.

  “Look, if you could just get here on time, and dress more appropriate for the wing house, we can talk about you getting your job back,” she started, but I was quick to stop her right there.

  “Oh no. I’m only here for my last check, and I’m not about to show half my tits just to get better tips from a bunch of drunken idiots in downtown L.A. Period,” I said. “Sorry, Allison, but there's no way in hell I'd ever work here again. Not a chance. Nothing personal. Just not one for being fondled and borderline molested on the regular.”

  Yeah, this outfit really did give me extra confidence for some reason. Allison blinked stupidly at me, then frowned and shook her head like I was giving up such a huge opportunity. A huge opportunity for a sexual harassment lawsuit, maybe. She disappeared into the back and then came out a few minutes later, tossing the envelope onto the bar in front of me.

  “There you go. Go on then. Don’t say I didn’t try to be helpful. I made you an offer and you turned it down, and God knows I'm not the kind of woman who makes such a generous offer twice. Good luck finding another job in this hell hole of an economy and don't come crawling back to me when you're down and out,” she grumbled.

  I only grinned. “Thanks! I appreciate that!” My voice was so chipper she looked back up to make sure I had actually said what she’d heard. I smiled at her, turned on my heels, and left. My brother Jackson lived nearby and worked from home so I decided to go see him and tell him about my possible new job. I knew he’d be thrilled for me, especially since it would be working in the music industry, and he had known since we were kids that it had always been a dream of mine.

  I used the doorknocker when I got there, just to annoy him. He hated that
thing for some reason. He answered the door in surf shorts and a tank top, frowning with annoyance as he opened the door. However, when he saw it was me, his frown morphed into a smile and he quickly enveloped me in a huge bear hug before setting me back on my feet.

  “Well, hey, sis, great to see you! What brings you this way, Nay?”

  “Not too much. I thought maybe we could go grab some lunch so I can tell you about the job interview I just left and the second interview I have lined up for tomorrow!” I beamed at him.

  A wide smiled spread across his face and he nodded.

  “Man, that's awesome news, it really is! I've been waiting to hear something like this from you since you moved to L.A. You just made my day!”

  “So, lunch?” I asked again.

  “Yeah. Sure, let's grab a bite to eat, just let me slip on some flip flops or something and we can head out to that bar and grill I like so much,” Jackson said, gesturing me into the apartment. Like Grace, Jackson had managed to do rather decent for himself out here. He had a nice apartment and worked as a web designer and digital graphics guru. One day, when I made it big, I fully expected him to create my branding logo or album cover — probably both.

  He came back to the door in a pair of black flip flops and grabbed his wallet off the table before locking the door behind him and escorting me to his car. I removed my jacket before getting in to not only get a little more comfortable, but to not feel quite as overdressed next to Jackson, who looked as if he'd just stepped off of the beach or something.

  Throughout the whole drive to the restaurant, we chatted, but I told him he had to wait until we had ordered our meals to hear about my interview. I wanted to really be able to gauge his reaction and see what he truly thought about this opportunity that had presented itself to me.

  We got there and took a table on the outside patio under a nice shade. When the waitress came over, we both ordered burgers and fries, then Jackson eyed me suspiciously.

  “So, you going to spill it or what?” he asked. “You haven't said a word about your news the whole time we've been here. Come on, you trying to keep me in suspense or something? You know how impatient I get about stuff like this!”

  I grinned. “All right, all right. Check this out: I just interviewed for a position as touring assistant to Bleeding Heart. And that’s not all; Owen Young invited me to their practice tomorrow to have a second interview with the whole band! If I get the job, I'll be touring with them for three months! Isn’t that amazing?”

  I was anticipating some excitement. At least a little. But, judging from my brother’s dour expression, no, it was not amazing. Not even a little. A reaction that I would have to say surprised me a little.

  “Nay, I know you want to work in the music industry, but I definitely do not think you should be working with those guys, much less going on tour with them. Sure, their music is really good, but have you read anything about them? Those guys turn and burn women constantly. No way is my little sister about to get involved with them. Nope. Nay, I really think this would be a terrible idea.”

  Not expecting that kind of response, I frowned. My demeanor was suddenly angry and defensive. “I’m a grown-ass woman, Jack. I can do what I want. And if I do my job well enough, maybe Owen will help me get my own music out there. It’s not just like he’s only the lead singer, you know? He does also own a thriving record company. I think he could really help me.”

  “Yeah, into his bed, maybe,” Jackson added, rolling his eyes.

  I glared at him in silence, my anger simmering.

  “What? It’s true!” he defended his statement. “The guy’s a dick, and he isn’t going to do anything that doesn’t fit his needs first and foremost.”

  “Oh, so you personally know him, do you? Because he didn’t seem like a dick at all when I met him today. Besides, you make it sound like I’m some groupie fan who would just jump into bed because he smiled at me. I see how much faith you have in me,” I spewed before taking a bite of my burger.

  I was a little bummed by Jackson’s reaction, but my involvement wasn’t up for discussion. If I got offered the job, I would take it and that would be that. With that in mind, I changed the subject and did my best to cool off a little. “How are things going with Cindi?”

  Jackson cringed a bit, taking a bite from his burger. He simply chewed on his food in silence, not bothering to respond.

  “That well, huh? I asked.

  “We broke up...again,” he shrugged. He and Cindi had been on again off again for the last year.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I think it’s for good this time. She wanted to move in and I didn’t think it was a good idea since we are always breaking up. I mean, you just reach a point where you have to say, 'enough is enough.' It couldn't just carry on like that forever.”

  I reached over to squeeze his hand, and he smiled at me.

  “I’m fine, Nay, really. I really don’t know why I keep going back to her, anyway.”

  “It’s called being lonely,” I told him.

  He laughed. “Maybe that’s it. And, I know her, and I’m comfortable around her.”

  “Exactly,” I nodded and took another bite of my burger, as well as a gulp of soda.

  “Maybe I’ll find the right one, eventually,” he shrugged again. “I don’t know, there's gotta be a girl who's perfect for me out there somewhere, right? There has to be. I'm just holding out until I finally meet her.”

  We ate in companionable silence for a little while until both of us were finished. Then we headed back to my brother’s car. I felt a little bad that I’d brought up Cindi, but I was glad he wasn’t still going on about what a dick Owen Young supposedly was.

  I hadn’t gotten any negative vibes from Owen personally, and I considered myself to be a fairly good judge of character. I loved my big brother and valued his opinion, but I didn’t agree with him on this. I was going to wait and make my own judgments.

  Instead of me walking home, Jackson drove me to my place, chatting about other random stuff like what Grace was up to and what he was currently working on. He didn’t bring up Owen again, and I was glad that he didn't.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Owen

  “Owen, you feeling okay?” Talon asked just after we finished up a song.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said a bit defensively. “Why are you asking? Does it seem as if something’s wrong with me?” The moment the words left my mouth, I realized why he might have asked.

  “You just seemed a little off on the last song. You sure everything’s all right?”

  I knew he was right, but I didn’t feel like getting into it. “I’m fine, man, seriously. Why don’t we just do that song again?” I suggested. Talon nodded, but then my phone went off.

  “Owen Young,” I answered.

  “Mr. Young, this is Sally from Touring Unlimited. I was calling to confirm the dates you requested for the tour bus. We have you down for the first week in September.”

  I let out a sigh. I had called them over a month before and set it up, and I knew I’d told them the beginning of August. I’d even double checked it. “No, that’s incorrect. We need it the beginning of August. First week of August. I'm pretty sure I specified that quite a while ago.”

  “Oh…I’m sorry about that, Mr. Young. Let me see if we can change the reservation.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose as she put me on hold. The other guys watched me curiously. No one made a sound. The silence grew more and more uncomfortable with every passing moment. It took Sally over two minutes to return to the line.

  “Mr. Young? If it’s okay, I’m going to call you back once we get this straightened out,” she assured me. “I'll do my best to sort this out.”

  “Fine,” I sighed, shook my head, and then hung up and watched Jeremiah place his guitar on its stand.

  “How’s the search for an assistant going?” he asked, clearly aware of the frustration I was currently experiencing. “You any closer to finding someone
who’s gonna fit the bill?”

  “Actually, man, I met a really good candidate yesterday. Her name’s Nalia. She’s supposed to be stopping by today to meet you guys, to get a feel for the band and how we operate. So, instead of asking me about her, you’ll get to meet her for yourselves and then you guys can ask her whatever questions you might have.”

  I looked down at my watch. It was only fifteen minutes later than the time I’d told my secretary to give her. It was no big deal. I figured she should be arriving any minute.

  “Did you still want to run back through that first song?” Talon asked. I nodded and we started over.

  I tried to get my head in the right place, but couldn’t help wondering why Nalia hadn’t shown up yet. We made it through the song, but I knew I was still a little off. It was really hard to focus; I still felt like my mind was in a million different places at once. Still, we pressed on, running through a few more songs. We had to; we had to be super tight for this tour.

  “Okay, I’m going to call the agency to see where she is,” I finally said as we finished another song. It was nearly 2:45. I called Mike, tapping my foot impatiently on the floor as I waited for him to answer the call. “Hey, Mike, have you heard from Miss Dean? She hasn’t shown up yet,” I asked when he finally picked up after what seemed like forever. He put me on hold to check with his secretary.

  “No word from her. Which seems odd compared to how on top of things she’s been so far. We’ll try to reach out to her and see what’s going on,” he said. “Just hang tight and I'll get back to you as soon as I know what's going on.” I sighed and thanked him before hanging up.

  I stared out at the studio window, trying to swallow my disappointment. I didn’t get it; she’d seemed so interested in coming by today, and I'd had such high hopes for her. It was fine, I tried to tell myself. It would simply mean going back to the drawing board again, unfortunately. I wasn’t looking forward to having to do more interviews, though. In fact, I was loathing the thought.