Seducing Mrs. Robinson

by Rachel Van Dyken

  My head whipped up. “Wait, they don’t date?”

  “No, it’s in the rules. They can’t date paying clients, and it’s frowned upon to date at all when you’re working for Wingmen at their level. They’re all promised a job at Wingmen Corporate when they graduate, not that Leo needs it since he’s independently wealthy…”

  “His parents, you mean.” I corrected her.

  She gave me a funny look. “No, Leo. The guys all get a percentage of the profits, and when they send people to the app, they get a royalty. Trust me, everyone wants that job. Plus, Leo’s brilliant. Word on the street is he’s worth over eight million because of the way he’s invested his earnings, but who knows, it could be inflated. Nobody’s sure about that.”

  I was dumbfounded.

  Completely speechless.

  “Isn’t he only twenty-one?”

  “Twenty-two.” She grinned. “He had a birthday last week. It was the party of the year.”

  “I bet it was.”

  “So,” Sheila yawned. “Wow, I forgot why I was even here.” She stood, and I handed her phone back. “Oh, I remember, can I have another outline from Marketing? I lost mine, and I really want to ace this class.”

  “Sure.” I was still processing everything she’d said hours later when I was home alone in my two-bedroom apartment overlooking the sound.

  And like someone obsessed, I grabbed my laptop and started to find out everything I could about Wingmen Inc’s lucrative business dealings on campus, mainly… those of one Leo Blackwood.

  Chapter Three

  “Flirting is the best kind of foreplay. Find a way to make them think about you when they don’t want to, and they’ll spend way too much time trying not to think about you. See also: Winning, folks.” — Leo Blackwood

  Leo

  “You look tense.” Slater elbowed Finn, causing his tomatoes to fall from his hamburger. “Doesn’t he look tense?”

  “You ruined my favorite part.” He glared at Slater then back down at his food.

  I made a face. “The tomato should never be the favorite part, especially if it’s too moist.”

  “Why, God, why?” Slater grumbled. “Why ruin food for us? You know that word triggers me!”

  “Everything triggers you.” Finn snorted.

  “Bullshit!” Slater took a huge mouthful of fries.

  “Oh, he wants a list,” Finn said to himself and then nodded to me as I held up one finger.

  “Hair. you hate hair on bodies, hair in the shower, hair on the floor, hell you probably pluck your own eyelashes you know that’s a psychological condition caused by stress?”

  Finn held out his hand for a high five then held up two fingers. “Last year you were triggered by a crumb.”

  Slater glared. “For your information, one of my best friends back home nearly died from a crumb, he made his sandwich next to it and bam, rat poison!”

  “First of all,” I laughed. “Your best friend’s an idiot, you never make a fresh sandwich on crumbs, second, he’s an idiot.”

  “True.” Finn tore into his burger just as I held up three fingers.

  “Oh, dear God.” Slater shoved his food back. “Fine, fine, I’m more… sensitive than others.”

  “Be honest man.” I winked. “Do your own jeans turn you on? I’ve always wanted to know, not because I’m even minutely interested in the way you get off, but I have never seen a dude so physically and emotionally sensitive.”

  “Right?” Finn looked between us and then under the table.

  Slater gave us both the finger. “Don’t be jealous. The ladies love it, and for your information no, my zipper doesn’t get me off, though I wouldn’t complain if I just had multiple orgasms every time I—” He winced. “—no that’s a lie, I wouldn’t want that, I saw something like that on Grey’s Anatomy. Looked painful as hell, not to mention loud. I mean, can you imagine?”

  I threw my head back and made a face then slammed my hands onto the table. “Yessss, oh God, yessss!”

  Finn threw a fry at my face.

  I opened my eyes and laughed.

  “What the hell was that?” Slater gaped.

  “Your orgasm face,” Finn answered for me as I held up my hand for a high five.

  “Sometimes, I hate you guys.” Slater shook his head and laughed.

  We joined in, and then Finn tilted his head toward me. “Hey, what’s my face look like?”

  “Yeah, you don’t want to know,” said Slater.

  I nodded.

  More fries got thrown. I ate a few and then confessed, “I have a mad crush on my new professor. She was one of my teachers, senior year of high school, married to a complete douche, and now she’s divorced and looking every inch the uptight librarian he probably wanted her to be.” I sighed and scooted my food away, appetite gone.

  “Tight bun?” Slater asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Dark clothing?” Finn guessed.

  “Yup.”

  “Permanent scowl that looks painful?” Slater again.

  “What do you think?” I snorted.

  “What about her skin? Moisturized?” Finn leaned in.

  I narrowed my eyes. “How the hell would I know?”

  “It’s a thing.” He shrugged. “If a woman still cares about basic needs like skincare, oral hygiene, shaving—she still cares, get it?”

  Slater nodded slowly. “Teach us, oh wise one.”

  “Soon grasshopper.” Finn bowed. “Soon.”

  I rolled my eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. “Well, unless I can somehow get her to become a client, it’s hands-off and even then… I don’t want you two dipshits anywhere near her.”

  “He’s scared of a little challenge.” Slater stretched his arms overhead.

  “Yes, little,” I pointed at his dick, “is absolutely correct.”

  Slater cackled out a laugh. “Hey, if lying makes you feel better.”

  “Hmm.” Finn seemed to be thinking way too hard about something I’d already spent the last few hours thinking about. “You could always pull a friend zone?”

  “Bite your tongue!” I hissed. “Are you insane?”

  “He’s right.” Slater shrugged and pointed at my half-eaten burger. “You gonna finish that?”

  I shoved the basket toward him and threw my hands up in the air toward Finn. “I’m not purposely shooting myself in the kneecaps over this one.”

  “Your arrogance won’t win this one, Leo.” Finn shrugged. “If she’s been hurt and she’s all tightly bound, you can’t just force yourself. She’ll run away. But you can slowly and surely un-peel the damaged layers, as a friend, and then take the chance that you send her into someone else’s arms.”

  “Leaving me miserable and alone?” I sighed. “Awesome plan. Where do I sign up?”

  “And there it is,” Slater said, mouth full of food. “You want to settle down. I knew I saw the itch on your face this year. Look, all you gotta do is tell Ian and Lex that you’re hitting retirement early from the business. They couldn’t care less. We’ll just keep recruiting.”

  “So, that’s it?” I asked, more to myself than anything. “I friend zone her, take a chance she actually wants me for more than that, and then what? Retire and live happily ever after working at corporate?”

  “Pretty much.” Finn smiled wide.

  “Maybe you’ll get lucky, and I’ll sing at your wedding.” Slater laughed.

  I didn’t join in.

  Because panic was too busy spreading through my chest, down my arms and legs.

  Was it that easy?

  And why the hell was my heart beating so hard at the thought of dating a woman who didn’t want me?

  I loved my job for the campus Wingmen.

  Settling down.

  Huh.

  “I’ll need to think about it,” I whispered.

  “We’ll be here when you need to strategize.” Slater nodded. “Because you’ve never been the friend zone, that’s all Finn and me. It’s like y
ou can’t help but hit on anything that breathes.”

  I shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

  “That she’ll return,” Finn said slowly.

  “Fine,” I snapped. “Let me just… do some recon.”

  “He’s so romantic.” Slater snorted.

  “I damn near swooned,” Finn agreed.

  “You dicks are paying.” I stood and made my way over to the bathroom just in time to see Mrs. Robinson walk into the restaurant, take one good look at me, and walk right back out.

  Well, shit.

  Chapter Four

  “Make it impossible for them not to notice you. If necessary, be shirtless.” — Leo Blackwood

  Kora

  He was everywhere.

  It wasn’t fair. He’d even managed to take over my favorite Starbucks down the street from my apartment, though he seemed to be in heavy conversation with someone else almost equally as good looking.

  They had charts and a laser pointer.

  I’d slowly backed away and gone to Peet’s instead. Not my first choice.

  It had officially been two weeks since that fateful day in my office, and he’d been nothing but polite since then.

  If polite meant he smiled at me constantly, offered to carry my books, and left an apple on my desk like a fifth-grader.

  Maybe I was the stupid one because I bit into that apple every break with trembling fingertips and a little heat in my face.

  If an apple can do that, imagine.

  Just. Imagine.

  Maybe my other student had it right when she said a girl had orgasmed watching him eat Lucky Charms.

  Lucky bitch.

  I managed to make it into my office that Friday without running into him and was weirdly disappointed when Leo’s face wasn’t looking back at me before office hours.

  My hand even felt the lack of apple.

  Maybe that was part of his plan.

  Drive me crazy over free fruit until I lose my mind and just maul him instead.

  I smirked and dropped my messenger bag on the chair just in time for my phone to buzz in my purse.

  I stared down at the screen and felt my stomach plummet. The caller ID said Satan.

  It was him. My sorry excuse for an ex.

  I quickly hit decline and dropped the phone onto my desk with a bang.

  What could he possibly want?

  He’d gotten more and more aggressive ever since the divorce, to the point that I thought I was going to need a restraining order—and then he’d just stopped. It was like he wasn’t happy unless he was making someone else miserable and small. It was the main reason I moved farther into the city and left my job—it was far, far, away from Issaquah, where we’d both lived during those first few years of marriage.

  My body gave an involuntary shudder as I thought about those dark times. Times where he would yell for no reason, where he would grab my arm too hard, make me flinch like he was going to hit me.

  And then one day he had.

  He’d hit me.

  And Leo’s words came back to haunt me.

  I wasn’t sure who I hated more. My husband, myself, or Leo for knowing even then.

  I opened my laptop and started checking emails at about the same time something rolled by my feet.

  I gave a start, cringed, and then looked down.

  It was a red apple.

  With a swift intake of breath, I turned toward the door.

  Nobody was there? At least not anymore.

  I picked it up and written in permanent marker across the red skin was, “An apple a day keeps a Leo at bay.”

  Huh? Did that mean that if I didn’t get apples anymore, he’d suddenly show up? And why did that make my heart pick up speed?

  Student. Student. Student.

  I quickly got up and looked down the hall.

  He wasn’t there anymore.

  But now he was all I could think about again.

  This had to be some sort of game to him.

  See if he could sleep with the professor. I exhaled and walked back to my desk and quickly pulled up Wingmen Inc University.

  Naturally, Leo’s picture was front and center with two other guys who looked like they should be in modeling campaigns, the same guys at Starbucks earlier. No wonder people went crazy over them.

  I scrolled down.

  “Ex do a number on you? We’re only a phone call away! Bonus, we won’t dump you because we can’t date clients! Besides, sometimes having someone tell you how awesome you are without wanting something in return is kinda nice. No lies. Only truth. Who are we? Wingmen Inc!”

  I quickly clicked out of the website and stared at my screen saver. It was a picture of my cat and me.

  Ugh.

  Could I be any more lame?

  Stuart was the only good thing about my scary relationship. I’d always wanted a pet, and my ex had been allergic to all things, so I’d decided to buy a naked cat. The only problem was that it was hard to find a cat sitter.

  Apparently, naked cats are gross?

  Who knew?

  I drummed my fingertips on my desk, my thoughts going back to Leo and Wingmen.

  And five hours later, when I was back at my apartment, my phone rang again.

  What could he possibly want?

  I finally answered. “Yes?”

  “Been calling you all day,” Chadwick barked. “Why didn’t you answer?”

  I officially hated my ex. “I was working, making money so I can live in my apartment and afford to feed myself.”

  “Ungrateful bitch, it’s not like you aren’t going to take half.”

  This again. “I told you I don’t want anything.”

  “Yeah. Right.” He muttered something under his breath. “Look, I have a wedding I need to go to, family thing. It’s in two weeks. Can you make it?”

  I frowned hard, stared at my phone then spoke into it. “Chadwick, we’re divorced. Why would I go with you?”

  “Separated.”

  And there it was. My stomach dropped like a lead ball. “You promised you signed the papers last month.”

  “Been busy.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut as fresh tears built, threatening to roll down my cheeks. I was so damn sick of his games. “Right.”

  “Look, go with me to the wedding, I’ll personally hand you the paperwork once we’re done, and you’ll make Mom happy.”

  He sounded like the old Chadwick, but I knew he was a narcissist to the extreme. Things were always my fault even when they were his, and he would do whatever it took to come out of this looking like a victim.

  “I’ll think about it,” I found myself saying.

  “Do that. And I’ll do the same about the papers.” The line went dead.

  I let out a scream and charged into my kitchen, opened a bottle of wine, and went to town.

  It was after the first glass that I found my laptop open again.

  The website from before taunted me.

  And two hours after that, I’d done the unthinkable. With Stuart in my lap and most of the wine gone, I filled out the application and hit send along with my first payment.

  And promptly fell asleep.

  Cheers.

  Chapter Five

  “The friend zone is just another way to say that the woman of your dreams thinks of you the same fucking way she does her golden retriever. See also: Frigid and sexually repugnant.” — Leo Blackwood

  Leo

  Operation Seducing Mrs. Robison by way of friendship was underway, and so far I was ready to drown my sorrows in alcohol and a shit ton of weed—hey don’t judge it’s legal in Washington, not that I’ve even gone out of my way to buy any because I hate the way it feels.

  But right now? I could use something.

  Anything.

  Fifteen red apples.

  One with a note on it yesterday.

  Several smiles and friendly hellos.

  And she still narrowed her eyes at me like I was a math problem she needed to figure out so
she could get rid of me for good and store me in the solved part of her brain.

  I lay down on my bed, only to have my door burst open with Slater and Finn on the other side, shit-eating grins on their faces.

  “Day drinking?” I asked casually.

  “Wait for it.” Slater held out his laptop and turned it toward me.

  I frowned as my eyes took in the new contact form, and then I nearly shit my pants when I saw the name.

  Kora Fucking Robinson.

  “What the hell!” I roared, nearly tripping over my duvet as I got to my feet. “She just magically signed up?”

  “Came in at one a.m.” Finn grinned. “So, I’m thinking alcohol was involved, bonus for you now she has no choice but to be around you.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Perfect! You do realize this means my entire plan goes to hell, right? I can’t date her, I can’t seduce her, I can’t even really be her friend in this scenario. Hell, I can’t be your friends in this scenario because I’ll be too busy murdering you for touching her.”

  “He really likes her.” Finn held up his hand to Slater.

  They high fived over my pain.

  Assholes!

  “Look.” Slater put his hand on my shoulder. “I know manwhores like yourself struggle to understand the concept of friendship, so let’s start with something you do understand. Time.”

  “Time,” I repeated.

  “Time,” they said in unison.

  I rolled my eyes. “Why are we talking about time? Are we going back in time to prevent her from signing up so I can swoop in?”

  “Swoop in… nice.” Slater grunted. “Like you’re going to eat her.”

  I grinned. “Well—”

  “Don’t.” Finn shook his head. “We can finish that sentence all by ourselves, thanks.”

  Slater set down the computer and braced me with both of his hands. “The first appointment is always an hour, an hour where you get to sit with her, learn about her likes and dislikes, compliment her. Use the time you’ve been given because she’s not going to be a client forever, and the sooner you help her heal over whatever the hell she’s struggling with, the sooner she drops Wingmen, and then you can do your swooping.”