Billionaire Single Dad

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Billionaire Single Dad Page 138

by Claire Adams


  She laughed and shook her head at me. “Will it help if I told you what I have in mind?”

  I nodded emphatically. “It would.”

  “I was thinking of a bar crawl—”

  “A bar—”

  “Just a little one,” she said quickly, cutting me off. “I’ll be with you the whole time. It’ll be a great opportunity for you to get out there and meet some new people.”

  “Urgh,” I groaned. “I’m not good with people.”

  “Well, you will be. I guarantee it.”

  I frowned. “How can you guarantee that?”

  “Because I’m going to give you the one thing you’ve been missing all this time.”

  “And what is that?” I asked, intrigued.

  “Confidence,” Missy replied firmly.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Confidence?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Umm… I’m not sure I understand. How exactly can you give me that?” I asked. “Have you been mixing potions in your free time?”

  She wagged her eyebrows at me. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Come on,” I insisted. “Tell me.”

  “I’m going to transform you,” she admitted.

  “You mean, you’re going to give me a makeover?” I asked, feeling a little nervous already. I didn’t like to venture too far from the clothes I was accustomed to wearing. My wardrobe consisted of comfortable jeans and t-shirts that were a couple of sizes too big.

  “Do you have contacts?” Missy asked, answering my question indirectly.

  “No,” I said, a little too quickly.

  “Liar.”

  “I like wearing my glasses.”

  “You like wearing your hair in a ponytail, too,” she pointed out.

  “What’s wrong with my ponytail?” I asked defensively.

  She laughed. “After I’m through with you, every guy in that bar is going to want to fuck you.”

  I felt a little spasm of what could have been fear or excitement. More likely, it was a combination of both. “That’s not what I want,” I was quick to say.

  “You want to be a virgin for the rest of your life?”

  “No, of course not,” I said. “I want to have sex, but… I want it to mean something. I don’t just want to sleep with any idiot frat boy who comes my way.”

  Missy raised her eyebrows.

  “I…uh…didn’t mean…”

  She smiled. “It’s okay,” she said. “I know what you mean. And you’re right; your first time should be special. But I just want to point out, it can still be special, even if you never see the guy after that night.”

  I wanted to believe her, but somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to agree. How could sex be special if the guy disappeared right after the fact? I wondered. Maybe it was fine if sex was all you wanted, but I knew I wouldn’t be content with an empty bed and the memory of the guy who shared it with me.

  I wanted to know his name. I wanted to know him. I wanted him to want to know me. I wanted it to be about more than just the moment. I wanted it to mean more than just the physical.

  It was a romantic notion, and I wondered if it was too old-fashioned to be realistic. I hoped I wasn’t just dreaming of a fairytale that no longer existed.

  Chapter Two

  Chance

  My office was a small, cramped space with just enough room for my desk and a small shelf of books and files. Still, I was pleased. It felt somehow like an initiation. I had taught classes before, but it was always as the understudy to a tenured professor.

  I leafed through my books and checked my schedule for what felt like the tenth time that day. If I had been the nervous type, I might have felt a little daunted at the prospect of teaching an independent class, but I was ready, and I was confident.

  I still had a few minutes before I needed to get to Abram’s Lecture Hall where my class was taking place, but I wanted to get there a little early to get the measure of the students I would be teaching. As I walked through the halls of the North Greenfield campus, I reflected on my own student life, almost eight years ago.

  I remembered the wild parties, the one-night stands, and that inexplicable feeling of believing that it would last forever.

  I remembered the one girl who had managed to get a commitment out of me during those four years. Daniela O’Shea was a blonde-haired beauty with the full lips and doe eyes that made guys go wild. I was so mesmerized by those eyes that I had convinced myself I was in love with her.

  We’d slept together for the first time the night we decided to be exclusive. And it was as I was staring at her sleeping face afterward that I realized I had made a mistake. I didn’t love Daniela. I loved her body and her eyes and her perfect ass, but I didn’t love her.

  I had dragged the relationship on for a couple of weeks before finally ending it with her. She threw her Greek history book at me and then proceeded to follow me back to my dorm, screaming obscenities at me the whole way.

  At the time, I hadn’t found it so amusing, but now the memory made me smile. I walked into the lecture hall and attached my USB to the laptop. Economics 401. It was a subject I had grown into, and it was a subject I knew would be difficult for the average senior to grasp.

  Soon a stream of students started filing in. I had been given the enrollment numbers prior to the school year, so I knew there would be around eighty students in attendance. I scrolled through my Power Point presentation on the computer, but I made sure to pay attention to the students coming in.

  I couldn’t help but notice all the girls walking past me. They were young and attractive, and I felt a keen sense of desire to be my twenty-one-year-old self again. I turned my gaze back to the computer and reminded myself that the university had a strict policy prohibiting relationships between students and teachers. I might not have paid that much attention to the rule had the consequence not been the immediate dismissal of the professor from their teaching post.

  I wasn’t willing to commit to any woman at this point, and I certainly wasn’t going to risk my career for one night of meaningless sex.

  Once the lecture hall was reasonably full, I switched on the projector and walked around the desk to face my students.

  “Good morning everyone,” I started.

  I was vain enough to enjoy the appreciative glances from a few young women in the first few rows.

  “I’m Chance William, and this is Econ 401. Our focus is going to be macroeconomic world trends. Now, I know that in order to qualify for this class everyone here would have had to have completed three previous economics courses. However, that does not mean this is going to be easy. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee it won’t be.

  “I can stand here and tell you that you’re all a smart bunch of students who can get through this course easily, but I prefer to be realistic. In addition to the course books you’ve been assigned, I plan on giving you a separate reading list to complete. There’s going to be a lot of research involved with every assignment, and you’re looking at two assignments every month until the finals.

  “I’m not here to coddle anyone, nor am I willing to give any student special attention if they find themselves struggling. I intend to evaluate your assignments mid-semester and anyone who doesn’t get a passing grade will be advised to drop the course in favor of a subject that’s less demanding.

  “I’m being straight with you so that you can make the decision. Can you handle this course? If you feel you can’t, then I suggest you walk out now.”

  I could see a couple of students looking positively terrified. Others looked smug and determined, and some just seemed indifferent. I stood there and waited. A minute later, the first student rose. He was a gangly-looking frat boy in the back row. As he rose, the three guys sitting next to him got up, too, and the four of them headed out together. Their exit gave a few others the courage to leave, too. As soon as the door had closed behind them, I turned back to the remaining students.

  “Either you guys are confid
ent or stupid,” I smirked, igniting a soft spattering of laughter. “Time will tell.”

  I walked back around to my desk, but I still wasn’t done with my little introduction speech. I knew it wasn’t the positive pep talk that most professors liked to give their students, but I had never appreciated that approach as a student. I had expected and demanded honesty from my professors, and that was precisely what I was going to give my students. I took too much pride in my teaching to give them anything less.

  “My office will be open for consultations twice a week. You can come to me if you have any questions, but as I said before, I’m not here to hold your hand through this semester. This is a four hundred level course, and I expect you all to know what you’re capable of.”

  I had just started introducing the subject when my eyes fell onto a mousy dark-haired girl in the front row. I wasn’t sure why my eyes kept traveling back to her during the course of the lecture, but there was something about her face that I liked. I just couldn’t put my finger on what exactly it was.

  She had an oval face, dark brown hair that she had pulled back into a tight ponytail, and deep blue eyes hidden behind a pair of overly large glasses. She was pretty, but it looked as though she had taken pains to hide that fact. She was wearing a dark green combat jacket over a black t-shirt that looked a size too big for her.

  Her eyes met mine at one point during the lecture, and I gave her a smile. She seemed a little surprised by the intimacy of that small gesture and looked down immediately, breaking the eye contact and making me realize she was the shy and reserved type. Somehow, it endeared her to me, and I found myself looking at her more and more often. For a second, I actually found myself wondering what she looked like underneath all those layers.

  An hour later, my first lecture came to an end, and I had successfully avoided looking in the direction of the mousy dark-haired girl for nearly ten full minutes.

  As the students shuffled out of the lecture theater, I packed up my things and headed back to my tiny office to prepare for my next lecture. I observed a few sophomores walking past. They were all dressed in a similar fashion: tight jeans and off the shoulder blouses that were just short enough to expose a hint of stomach.

  My thoughts turned back to Daniela. I remembered those few weeks that I had played at being the boyfriend. I found myself dreading the predictable clichés of relationships and the way they seemed to tie me down. Even the sex seemed to change once she started referring to me as her boyfriend. It became strangely bland, an itch that needed to be scratched rather than a passion that never burnt out.

  I sat down at my desk and checked my cell phone. There were two missed calls, both of which were from Sophie. I called her number and propped my feet up on my desk as the dial tone sounded.

  “Chancy!”

  I rolled my eyes. “I hate that nickname.”

  “Which is why I insist on using it,” Sophie replied. “You didn’t answer my calls.”

  “I was busy being a professor.”

  Her voice bubbled with laughter. “Man, I can’t believe my little brother is a teacher. It’s such a…serious job.”

  “Are you trying to compliment me or insult me?”

  “I’m trying to say I’m proud of you.” I could practically see her eyes roll.

  “Thanks, sis,” I replied. “How’s Tommy?”

  “He’s in the first grade now,” Sophie revealed.

  “Fuck,” I said. “Already?”

  “That’s the problem with children…they grow up,” she said. “Actually…speaking of the first grade, you should meet his new teacher.”

  I frowned. “Um…why?”

  “Because she’s a teacher, and she’s attractive, and I think you two might hit it off.”

  I sighed. “You know I don’t do relationships.”

  I instantly thought back to the way Daniela used to look at me. She used to look at me with stars in her eyes, and I remember feeling as though I couldn’t breathe. When I realized that all I had really been interested in was her body, I had felt a keen sense of shame. Perhaps that was why I tried so hard to make it work, but even my hardest try lasted a few short weeks. After we broke up, I stayed away from relationships.

  “Seriously?” Sophie said impatiently. “You’re twenty-nine-years-old, Chance.”

  “Thanks for the remainder.”

  “I’m just saying, how long can this casual sex thing last?”

  “As long as I find hot and consenting women.”

  “Don’t you want to settle down?”

  “Um…no.”

  “You’re missing out,” Sophie said.

  “No, you’re missing out,” I said.

  “I happen to like being in a monogamous relationship,” she said defensively. “Thanks for your concern.”

  “Well, then you should stick with Tony,” I said. “I, on the other hand, would die of boredom.”

  “Boredom or fear?” Sophie asked pointedly.

  “What does that mean?”

  “You know what that means,” she said insistently. “I’m talking about da—”

  “Hey, there’s a student at my door, Soph, I gotta go.”

  “Chance—”

  “We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “I know there’s no one there—”

  “Say hi to Tommy for me.”

  I hung up and stared out my window for a few minutes. I loved Sophie like crazy, but she liked to talk things to death. Whereas I just preferred to avoid the uncomfortable topics; it made life so much simpler. Plus, I just wasn’t as complicated as Sophie liked to believe. Sometimes I wished she had majored in something other than psychology.

  There was a text alert, and I glanced down at my phone. It was Sophie, and she had prefaced her text with a couple of angry emoticons.

  “You are so annoying,” she had written. “You realize you’re the only one I can talk to about these things. You were the only one that was there. But fine… whatever, you big crybaby.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. I picked up the phone and sent a couple of heart emojis her way, knowing that it would irritate her to no end. Then I started preparing for my next lecture, and for a split second, my mind wondered to the class I had just finished and the dark-haired girl in the first row. I wondered what her name was and I wondered if she would survive the course.

  Something about her expression that morning made me believe she would. It wasn’t just eagerness; it was determination and resolve. It was strength hiding behind those oversized glasses.

  Chapter Three

  Natalie

  I was surprised by how interesting Chance William managed to make macroeconomic world trends, and yet, I still couldn’t concentrate. I hadn’t expected him to be so young, or so good looking. I was glad for my seat in the front row; it gave me the opportunity to see the hints of blond in his brown hair and the flecked hazel of his eyes.

  He wasn’t like many of the professors I had grown used to. He looked like he spent weekends in the gym. He was tall, at least six-one, and I could make out the hard muscle of his arms beneath the fitted long-sleeved shirt he wore.

  I was extremely aware of the fact that I was objectifying my new teacher, but I couldn’t help it. I had never had such a strong reaction to a man before, and it surprised me. At some point during his lecture, his eyes met mine, and I felt my breath still for a moment.

  I panicked and looked down like a twelve-year-old when his lips turned up into a smile. When I finally looked up again, he had turned his face up towards the charts projected onto the wall. I spent the entire lecture trying not to stare too hard at his hands, his shoulders, and his perfectly square jaw. I was also aware that the guy sitting next to me kept glancing in my direction from time to time and I didn’t want him to notice my preoccupation with our new professor’s body.

  I loved the way he spoke, too. And, the way he moved. There was no self-doubt in his movements. There was no second-guessing himself. He was confident and in control,
and I admired that. Especially considering I had strived my whole life for that kind of confidence and always found myself lacking. It wasn’t easy to achieve. Either you had it, or you didn’t.

  As the last minutes of class drew to a close, Chance walked around his desk once again. “Looks like there’s no time for questions,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I expect every one of you to complete your reading before the next lecture. If not, you’re going to be lost, and I’m not slowing down for anybody. I’ll see you guys next time.”

  “Geez,” the boy sitting next to me said. “What an ass, huh?”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Who?”

  “The professor,” the boy said, gesturing towards the front of the lecture hall. “He sounds like a complete jerk.”

  I frowned uncertainly. “I thought the lecture was amazing.”

  “You thought so?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “He kept strutting around like he thought he was on a runway.”

  On another day, I might have been amused, but I was too impressed by Professor William to find that funny. “I thought he was really good,” I said. “And, he’s obviously passionate about teaching.”

  The boy smirked. He had dark eyes, dark hair, and quite a nice smile, but there was just something about him that made me uneasy. It was the way he was looking at me – it made me feel uncomfortable without really knowing why.

  “Passionate?” the guy replied. “Did you not hear him tell everyone to leave because he wasn’t interested in doing his job and actually teaching us?”

  “That wasn’t what he said,” I said, defending him. “He was being honest with us. This is a hard course, and he wanted to make sure we knew what we were getting ourselves into. I appreciated the warning…didn’t you?”

  “I just thought he was a jerk,” he said, with a shrug. “By the way, I’m Jason.” He extended his hand out to me, and I was forced to take it.

  “I’m Natalie,” I introduced as I started gathering up my things.

  “Well, Natalie, since we know this class is going to be a killer, how about we get together a study group?”

 

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