Atlantis

by Jessica Rosberg

  An hour later, Sloan and her sister walked up the steps to their mom's house. It was more like a mansion, really, with stone pillars and a ridiculously perfect manicured lawn. It was like something out of a movie. The girls knew it was their money that paid for this house and their mother's lavish lifestyle, but no one ever spoke of it. It was just one of those things. Plus, their mom had taken care of them all their lives. What was wrong with them giving back a little?

  "Morning ladies," said Frank, the butler. He stepped aside and let them enter.

  "Frank." Sloane nodded and smiled. "Where's mom?"

  "Out back in the gardens. She's expecting you."

  They made their way out back and found Geraldine sitting at the patio table, oversized sunglasses covered her eyes, and she was wearing a bikini that made Sloane blush—and that was a hard thing to do. "Hi, Mom." Sloane gave her a kiss on the cheek. Candice did the same.

  "Sit down," Geraldine snapped, not giving either of them recognition for their affections.

  Candice glanced at Sloane as if to say, this isn't going to be good. Sloane frowned as she sat. "What's up?"

  "I should be asking you two that." Geraldine tossed a couple of newspapers and several magazines across the table. "What the hell happened last night?"

  The girls exchanged another look. Candice cleared her throat, and said, "We went to the grand opening of the new club, just like you asked us to."

  "Yeah, it was fun, too."

  "A little too much fun, it seems." Geraldine reached over and picked up one of the magazines. She flipped it open and showed it to Sloane.

  There was a two page spread of pictures of her in some rather unflattering poses. One of her and Nate on the dance floor when she was massaging his crotch; one of her sitting on his lap with her dress hiked up her thighs, kissing him; another of her being carried out of the club by Nate, clearly drunk and possibly passed out; and several of her on the dance floor with various people. Sloane knew her mother was pissed, and she was afraid to look at her.

  "And you," Geraldine pointed at Candice, "for as many pictures as there were of you, it's a small wonder people knew you were even there. Six photos, Candice, six! That's pathetic!"

  "I left early to study," Candice said, keeping her eyes down.

  "You and that stupid dream to get a college degree. Don't you realize you've got a good thing going here? You could have twelve college degrees and not many as much money in a lifetime that you make in one month while modeling."

  "Mom, please calm down," Sloane said. "We'd been gone for almost a month. So I went a little overboard and Candice went home. Who cares?"

  "I care." Geraldine stood and put her palms flat on the table. "The press cares. Our business contacts care. You two don't realize how negative publicity affects your reputations in this industry. Now I've got to spend God knows how long doing damage control."

  Sloane rolled her eyes. Her mother could be so dramatic at times. It's not like they were out on the street corner or snorting cocaine. Jeesh. So what if Sloane was caught making out with her boyfriend? It was no secret that she and Nate had been exclusively dating for the past six months. "Sorry," she mumbled.

  "Yeah, sorry, Mom," Candice said, finally looking up.

  "Okay then." Geraldine sat back down, smoothed her hands over her hair, and took a deep breath. "Let's talk about your schedules." She pulled a folder from her black leather bag that she'd had resting on the chair beside her.

  Sloane and Candice reached for their schedules at the same time. Sloane studied hers, and the further down the page she read, the angrier she got. Beside her, Candice let out an agitated huff.

  "Mom, I can't do shoots and television interviews in California. I have final exams that week," Candice said.

  "Yeah, and I've got Nate's birthday party. We've been planning it for two months," Sloane said.

  "Too damn bad." Geraldine looked back and forth between her daughters. "If you want that cover shoot for Évoqué you'd best stop complaining. The only way you're going to get it is to get out there and show them that you can do it."

  Sloane slumped back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Évoqué was a dream job. It was the one job she and her sister had dreamt of for as long as she could remember. If they could get on the cover of Évoqué, they'd never have to take another job they didn't want. Geraldine knew that, too, and she used it against them every time they complained about their schedules. It was so unfair.

  "We just got home after being gone for three weeks and now you want us to go away again for another three weeks? When do we have to leave?" Candice asked.

  "The day after tomorrow. The pilot already has your flight plans ready. You have to be on the jet and in the air by eight fifteen in the morning."

  Sloane stood up abruptly, tipping her chair over when she did. "Thanks a lot, Mom," she sneered as she walked back into the house. Nate was not going to be happy when she told him that she'd have to miss his birthday. The thought of telling him had her stomach in knots. It was all so unfair. And poor Candice—she'd been studying so hard for her exams. What was she going to do?

  Sloane got in her Aston Martin and sped away from her mother's house. She dug out her cell phone and dialed Nate's number. The moment she heard his voice, tears fell from her eyes.

  Chapter Four

  "Dean Herrington will see you now, Miss Parker." The secretary smiled and nodded.

  "Thanks." Candice smoothed her skirt down and walked into the dean's office. "Hello, Dean Herrington. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

  He smiled. "Please, have a seat, Miss Parker."

  Candice sat, crossed her legs, and folded her hands in her lap. She was so nervous. Having a face to face meeting with the dean of the college wasn't something most students ever did, but she was desperate. Talking with her professors hadn't yielded the results she had hoped for so the dean was her last hope.

  "What can I do for you today?"

  "Well, as you know, final exams are next week. I've been studying every chance I get, and I feel as though I'm ready for them. Unfortunately, I just received my work schedule and I have to be in California that week. I've tried to reorganize my work schedule, but have been unsuccessful." She paused.

  "Miss Parker, when you were granted admission into this university it was with the understanding and the promise that you would take it seriously, that it would be a priority."

  "And it is," she said quickly. "My grades are good, and I've never missed a deadline for an assignment. I want to graduate from here more than anything."

  Dean Herrington nodded, and then stood. He stared out the window for a few moments before saying, "What exactly are you asking for then?"

  "For permission to take my exams when I return," Candice said with as much confidence as she could muster. When in front of the camera, she felt like she owned the world. But when in the real world, she was rather shy and a little unsure of herself, especially when dealing with a man like Dean Herrington. He was tall, six foot nine inches, with broad shoulders, a receding hairline, and a beer gut that hung a good two inches over his waistline. He was not the least bit attractive, but he did command respect and that's what scared Candice.

  "It's very unorthodox for me to allow a student to enroll and do all of her classes as independent studies." He moved away from the window and walked around to the front of his desk. He leaned his butt on the edge and crossed his arms over his chest. "But, I made an exception for you, Miss Parker, because I liked you. You were focused and determined."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "You've done well here, and I'd hate to see all your hard work go to waste."

  Candice smiled. She knew going to the dean was a good idea. "Thank—"

  "Don't thank me yet," he said, holding up his hand to silence her. "You're going to have to convince me that giving you yet another exception is the right thing to do."

  "Yeah, okay," she nodded, thinking of what she would say next, mentally prep
aring a convincing argument. "Would you like me to put something in writing for you? Like an educational contract or something?"

  He smiled. "I was thinking something a little more hands on." The dean put his hand on her bare knee and looked into her eyes. "Oral, perhaps?" he said, reaching for his zipper with his other hand.

  Candice was stunned into momentary silence. Was he really asking for sexual favors in return for allowing her to take her finals at a later date? Her face flushed with warmth, and the tips of her ears burned hot. How disgusting! She could tell by the look in his eyes that if she didn't do exactly as he asked, he wouldn't give her what she wanted—no, needed—in order to pass her classes and her exams. Slowly, Candice stood. Dean Herrington smiled again, both hands going to his waist, his stubby fingers fumbling with his belt buckle.

  "I knew you were a smart girl," he said, removing his belt. "And sexy, too."

  She wanted to scream and cry and rant. But she held it together. "Dean Herrington—"

  "Please, call me Steve." He dropped his pants, leaving him standing in his silk boxers, his erection prominent.

  "Steve," she said through clenched teeth. The sight of him made her want to vomit. "You can take my diploma and shove it up your ass! I'd rather flunk than touch you." Then she turned on her heel and stormed out of his office. Once she was outside, the tears she'd worked so hard to keep at bay, spilled down her face in waves. She couldn't believe it. Just like that, two years of hard work, her dreams of being a college graduate, it all just vanished. Candice got in her BMW and called Shandra at home.

  "Hello?"

  "Ella? Where's Shandra? I need to talk to her," Candice said.

  "Oh, hi, Candice. She's out for the day, and she forgot her cell phone. What's up? You don't sound so good."

  "I'm not." Candice sniffled and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Maybe Sloane would be home, she thought as she sped out of the campus parking lot.

  "Want to talk about it? I can meet you at that new Italian place on the Boulevard. I haven't eaten anything yet today and I'm starved," Ella said.

  The idea of hanging out with Ella wasn't that appealing, but she had to talk to somebody about what just happened. And Ella really wasn't that bad when she was alone. Candice sighed. "Yeah, okay, I'll meet you there in half an hour. Thanks, Ella." Candice hung up and concentrated on the road, her mind reeling from everything that had just happened. Oddly enough, the one thing she kept coming back to was the fact that her mother was going to be happy about it because she'd never really approved of Candice's decision to go to college.

  *****

  An hour later, Candice sat at a table across from Ella, who was constantly glancing around the restaurant as if she were expecting someone or waiting for something to happen. "Did you hear anything I've said?" Candice asked with irritation.

  "Yeah, yeah, of course, I heard," Ella said with a dismissive way of her hand. She sipped on her wine, her gaze still wandering over the rim of her glass.

  Candice turned in her chair and looked around. "What on earth are you looking for?"

  "Huh? Oh, nothing. So, what are you going to do about Dean Pervert?"

  "I have no idea." Candice sighed. "There's no way I'm having sex with him, that's for sure." She shuddered. "The thought sickens me. But, I've worked so hard for this degree, and I'm so close."

  "Is there anyone else you can go to? Anyone who is above the dean?" Ella seemed to finally relax a little.

  "I suppose I could write a letter to the board of directors, but that could take weeks. By then, finals will be over, and I'll have failed." The more she talked about it, the more hopeless it seemed.

  "I say you get a lawyer and threaten to sue him. I bet that will change his mind." Ella smiled.

  Yeah, and it would cause one heck of a controversy, too. Bad publicity--that's what her mother would call it, and that would lead to Geraldine getting angry. No matter what Candice did, it wasn't going to work out so well for her. "I'm not sure that'll help," Candice said after a pause.

  Ella shrugged. "I don't know what else to tell you." She propped her elbow on the table and cradled her face in her hand.

  Candice eyed her suspiciously. The way Ella sat, it was a definite pose. Candice looked around the restaurant and found several photographers lurking, snapping pictures of her and Ella. "Did you tell them we were going to be here?" Candice leaned across the table and whispered vehemently.

  "Tell who?" Ella asked innocently.

  "The paparazzi."

  "They're here?" Ella once again looked around, flashing a smile for the cameras.

  "You're unbelievable, Ella." Candice grabbed her purse and left the restaurant. She knew it was going to be a mistake to try and have a normal, adult conversation with Ella. All that girl cared about was getting discovered and she didn't care who she used to do it. Candice cringed at the thought of what her mother would say when pictures of Candice crying, make up running down her face, surfaced in the press. This day couldn't possibly get any worse.

  Chapter Five

  Sloane was rendered speechless when Nate opened the door with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Water beaded off his chest and arms, his hair was disheveled, and he smelled like clean, like soap and man. It was a heady combination that had her forgetting why she'd gone to his house in the first place.

  "This is a nice surprise," he said, stepping forward and kissing her on the forehead. "You coming in?"

  "Yeah." Sloane stepped inside. "I'm glad you're home," she said.

  "Me too." He smiled. "I like it when you're around and just stop by."

  "Well, I did call first," she reminded him.

  Nate laughed. "Right. You said there was something important you wanted to talk about."

  Sloane nodded. She tucked her hands into her pockets and rocked on her heels. Suddenly, she didn't want to have that conversation anymore. "Yeah, but can we talk about that later? Right now," she took her hands out of her pockets and ran them down his bare, wet chest, "I want you to make love to me." Sure, they'd had sex last night, but it had been so long since they'd made love—the kind that was slow and soft and intense.

  He raised a brow. "Really?"

  "Yes." She licked her lips. "Please, Nate, I just want to be with you."

  "Then let's go." He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. Slowly, Nate removed each piece of her clothing, kissing every inch of her bare skin as he did.

  Sloane's body erupted in goose bumps at the feel of his lips and hands on her body. "Oh, Nate," she whispered.

  He scooped her up into his arms and carried her the short distance to the bed. Laying her flat on her back, Nate yanked on his towel, letting it fall to the floor. Sloane's breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, naked and ready for her. His body was fit and muscular and totally gorgeous. She often wondered how she'd gotten so lucky to have him as her boyfriend. He climbed onto the bed and leaned down to capture her lips and tongue in a slow, erotic dance of pleasure.

  Nate fumbled in the nightstand for a condom, which he deftly rolled on before spreading her legs with his knees and settling between them. He deepened the kiss as he entered her. "This what you want?" he murmured against her lips as he worked his cock deeper and deeper inside of her.

  "Yes," she moaned. Her hands clutched his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his hard flesh. He filled her so completely it bordered on painful, but in a good way. His lips barely left hers as he slowly, skillfully thrust in and out of her with languid, controlled movements. He left her lips and kissed her neck, nipped at her collarbone, and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Sloane arched into him and tucked her feet under his ass, riding the motions of his hips.

  "God, Sloane, baby, you feel incredible. So good…" he groaned.

  Sloane's body tensed, and then relaxed momentarily as she succumbed to her orgasm. She writhed beneath Nate, luxuriating in the feel of him swelling inside of her, giving in to the pleasure he so easily gave to her. She cried his n
ame repeatedly, and then she blurted out, "I love you." As soon as the words passed her lips, she regretted them. Neither of them had ever said that before, and she didn't know how Nate would react. They hadn't been dating that long.

  "I love you, too, Sloane," he said as he collapsed on top of her, his face buried in her neck.

  She smiled, thrilled with the fact that he'd said it back to her instead of freaking out. Sloane felt slightly better about telling him that she wouldn't be around for his birthday party. If he loved her—and he just said he did—then surely he'd understand. Nate rolled off her and lay beside her, pulling her to his side. She rested her head on his chest and draped her arm over his stomach. Sighing with content, she snuggled closer to him.

  Nate kissed the top of her head. "I really like it when you're home." He laughed.

  "Yeah, speaking of being home," she said with a nervous laugh. "I just got my schedule for next month."

  "Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

  His question didn't surprise her. Since they'd started dating, every time Sloane got a new schedule, she'd share it with Nate so that they could make plans for the time when she would be home, which wasn't often enough. "Yes. I have to leave the day after tomorrow." Nate yawned. He always liked to cat nap after sex. Sloane thought it was cute, but right now she hoped he would stay awake long enough to talk to her.

  "Where to this time?" he asked.

  "California." She traced circles on his chest, her fingers gliding over his soft dusting of chest hair.

  "For how long?" He yawned again.

  "Three weeks." Her heart banged in her chest as she waited for his response.

  Nate removed his arm from around her and sat up. "Three weeks? That means you'll miss my birthday."