Sitting on the train, I pull out my boodle to write what I learned today. The professor values competence, intelligence, and articulation. I’m so curious about his life, but I need to be mindful not to push him too far and affect my working relationship. I end my entry with a final thought.
Note to self: No prying into the life of Professor Private Pants.
AS I WALK DOWN the sidewalk to my destination, I wonder what we’ll talk about at dinner. The last time we met up was a disaster that ended in me walking out. Nico pushes me like no other. He deserves to talk about it. He deserves my openness. Hell, he deserves my undying gratitude. I feel like I’ve done my restitution, but he just can’t leave it alone. I deserve that.
I see Nico standing outside Mario’s waiting for me. His hands are shoved in his pockets and I can tell even from here, he is worried about meeting with me. He should be. It never goes well. He smiles when he sees me, which is more kindness than I could ever repay.
“Hey, Luca.”
“Hello. Shall we go in?”
“Yeah, sure.”
We enter and find a small table in the corner. I like this place since it is always full of people. Any awkward silences are filled with the hum of voices, the clanking of dishes, and the sounds of the cooks yelling orders in the back. And it sits right on a busy road with a lot of pedestrian traffic so people-watching is always an option.
“What did you want to talk about, Nico?”
“Nothing in particular. Just wanted to see you. Hang out for a while. Is that so bad?”
“No.”
“How’s work? And the new book?”
“Both are fine. I’m just starting to ramp up for the year again. I am making good progress on the book.”
“That’s cool. You got a new assistant?”
“I did. Today was her first day.”
“She seems quiet. She had an accent¸ right?”
“She does. She’s from England.”
“Yeah? I hope she does alright for you.”
“As do I.”
“So,” Nico starts as our waiter approaches. “The usual?” he asks me.
I nod my approval.
“Cool. We’ll have the large, thin crust, with sausage and peppers, and two Peroni beers.”
The waiter leaves and Nico continues. “I was wondering what your plans are for the holidays this year?”
“I haven’t thought about it.” I raise my hand before he can continue. “And I don’t plan to discuss it right now.”
“Okay. I get that.” Nico sighs. “It’s good to see you. I hope you feel the same about me.”
“Of course I do. You know that.”
“Maybe. It’s nice to hear.”
I glance out the window. Nico knows I hate displays of emotion. I’m not capable of it anymore. All the pushing in the world won’t change that. We sit silently as our pizza and beers are delivered. Nico serves us each a slice and digs in heartily.
“How is work for you?” I ask.
“Good,” he replies, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “I have a few projects right now and keep getting asked for more. I’m thinking of teaming up with Bobby. What do you think?”
“What does it matter what I think?”
“Because I value your opinion.”
“Bobby seems like a good guy from my few interactions with him. Just make sure you sign a formal agreement in case things don’t work out.”
“Yeah, I was thinking that too.” He takes a swig of beer. “Do you think that attorney that helped me before could do it?”
He says it so nonchalantly, but horrible memories come rushing back to me. I wipe my forehead. “You should find someone new. There are plenty of lawyers in Boston.”
“True. Hey, that didn’t upset you did it?”
I shake my head and take a drink of my beer. I have tried a thousand times not to react to every utterance surrounding what happened, but I’ve been unsuccessful thus far.
“I didn’t mean to. I’ve accepted it. I wish you would.”
“Accept it? Like I have a choice, Nico.”
“You know what I mean. You are not living life to the fullest and you know it. She would want you to move on and find love again. She would want us to have the kind of relationship we used to. You know that.”
“Don’t tell me what she would want. You have no idea,” I mumble.
“I think I do. She loved you and would want nothing but happiness for you. It’s what we all want for you.”
I look out the window again. “Can’t we have one meal together where we don’t have to talk about this?”
“Not until it’s resolved.”
“It is.”
“Hardly. You can barely look at me. I know I remind you, but it’s not my fault.”
“I know. It’s mine.”
“No, it isn’t. It could have happened to anyone.”
“It happened to me.”
“Luca, I just want back in your life again. I will do anything.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Why don’t you let me decide that? Are we going to spend the rest of our lives with this bullshit between us? I don’t want that.”
“I’m doing the best I can.”
“I know.” We sit silently for a few minutes. “Can we try once a month? Just hanging out, grabbing a bite?”
I run my fingers through my hair. He isn’t asking for much. Just a few hours a month. Surely I owe him at least that much.
“If we can try not discussing this every time. I can’t take it, Nico.”
“Deal.”
“Okay.”
We finish our meal while Nico tells me more about his work and updates me on some mutual friends. I do enjoy his company. It’s just that he is tied to the most painful moment of my life and it’s hard not to associate him with it. Every time I look in Nico’s eyes, I see hers looking up at me, pleading with me to help her. I failed.
After dinner, we walk outside and down the sidewalk to the T stop. “Are you going home?” I ask.
“Yeah. You?”
“Yes. I have work to do.”
“Thanks for hanging out.”
“Thanks for asking.”
Nico grabs me and hugs me and I return the gesture.
“Don’t work too hard.”
“Impossible.” I smile just a bit.
“See you soon. I’ll call.”
“Okay.”
We go in separate directions. I can walk back to my house from here. It was a nice evening, but I know the more time I spend with him, the more he is going to push me to talk about what happened and deal with it. I’ve tried everything, though. There is nothing Nico can say that will make it okay. Nothing.
I’M AWARE OF HOW QUIET the building is in the morning. I assume as the students arrive, there will be more people bustling about. I make a mental note to ensure I have corrected the mistake I found in the professor’s posted office hours. Once again, music drifts from his office door as I walk down the hall. This time I know who is singing. It’s Josh Groban and the song is called Per Te. For you, the singer croons in Italian. Love will win. Beautiful words. This must be the professor’s morning routine. It’s one I could get used to.
Tapping softly on the slightly ajar door, I enter quietly. The professor doesn’t look up at me, but continues to stare out into the courtyard as the song finishes playing. He seems so sad. A hush falls over the room as the last melodic notes dissipate. Not wanting to break this calmness, I sit in my chair without saying a word.
Finally, he looks up and greets me. “Good morning, Miss Harper. I trust you had a pleasant evening?”
“It was fine. You?”
“Fine.”
“That’s good. I hope you and Nico worked things out.” Oh! Why did I open my mouth and say that?
The professor raises his eyebrows at me. “Worked things out? There is nothing to work out between us. What gave you that idea?”
“I, well, it just seemed te
nse between you yesterday.”
“It isn’t tense. I just don’t like unexpected visitors, particularly in my workplace and he knows it.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have remarked on your personal life.”
“That much is accurate.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“No, it isn’t. It shouldn’t interest you.”
“It does,” I whisper.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.” I busy myself with the papers on my desk, hoping this conversation ends. I keep finding a way to put my foot in my mouth with each sentence.
The phone rings, startling both of us. The professor glares at me and I assume he means for me to answer it. “Professor Di Roma’s office.”
“Hello, charming creature,” a man’s voice replies and I know immediately who it is. “It’s Nico. May I speak to Luca?”
“Er, em,” I stutter. Pull it together, Londyn! “Let me see if he’s available. One moment.” I quickly put the call on hold and glance up at the still glaring professor. “It’s Nico for you.”
His eyes widen and he quickly answers it, turning his back to me. I decide to leave the room and allow him this bit of privacy. I pace the hallway for a few minutes, looking at the bulletin board encased in glass and determining where the loo is. I really should have figured that out yesterday.
“Miss Harper?” the professor’s voice booms, echoing through the halls. I hurry back into the office. “Where did you go?”
“Just in the hall to give you your privacy.”
“One minute you’re prying and the next minute you’re giving me my privacy?”
I stand motionless, unsure of how to respond.
“You may sit,” the professor says, as if I were an unruly student.
I scurry to my desk. I’m a jittery mess in this man’s presence. Somewhere deep inside I need to find where I left my backbone. I return my attention to the items on my desk, but I can tell even without looking up, that Professor Di Roma is staring at me. I lift my eyes up to meet his.
“Yes, Professor?” I ask, softly.
“You’re a curious thing, aren’t you? I imagine you’ve concocted all sorts of theories about me and my personal life.”
My eyes widen as I feel my cheeks turn pink from blushing. I have no idea how to respond to this statement since it’s absolutely true. The professor links his fingers together and stretches his arms. I watch intently as a full smile graces his face.
“I’m feeling rather generous today, Miss Harper. I will allow you one question about my personal life. Ask whatever you need to squelch this burning curiosity you have so we can get to work.”
One question! What shall I ask? I need to make it a good one. I know I’m dying to find out about Nico. Too personal? He didn’t put a limit on it.
“Can I ask anything I want?”
“Yes. I’ll determine whether I answer it or not.”
“Fair enough.” I decide to go for it. “Is Nico your lover?”
“My lover?!” The professor throws his head back in laughter. “Good heavens, what gave you that idea?”
“I don’t know. Your interaction seemed so intimate. Not like a friend at all.”
“You are quite mistaken. Nico is my little brother.”
Brother! I can feel my entire body heating up with embarrassment. I can’t believe I mistook them for lovers.
“I misunderstood.”
“Very much so.”
“So you aren’t gay?”
The professor’s smile fades into a smirk. He stands and I’m sure there is not a man alive who can capture so much attention with such a simple motion. He walks close to me, so close I must crane my neck to meet his eyes. “That was your second question, Miss Harper. I only allotted one.”
I say nothing. It is absolutely none of my business what the professor’s sexual preferences are. I don’t know why I bothered to ask.
“But I will answer you since it is related.” I look up, surprised, as the professor kneels down in front of my desk to my eye level. “Dear girl, I assure you that I am the furthest thing from being a gay man.” Something in his delivery is bordering on erotic. I didn’t expect to ever have this reaction to the professor.
“Now I have a question for you,” he continues.
A question for me! “Yes?”
“Do you have a romantic interest presently?”
I feel my cheeks flushing as the words fall from his lips.
“No.”
“Good.” He stands abruptly, his demeanor reverting back to pure business. “There are times you may need to work after hours or attend events with me. I don’t want some jealous boyfriend disrupting our work.”
Clearing my throat, I attempt to regain my shaken composure. “No jealous boyfriend here.”
Turning around, he drops another stack of folders on my desk. “These are the files for the registered students from last semester. Please make an alphabetical list by last name for each course.”
“Would you prefer I create a folder on the computer for each of these?”
“No. They already exist on the computer. I prefer paper files. You’ll find that I’m not overly progressive in how I run things. I have everything online for the university, but I prefer hard copies for my own records. You do know how to work with actual paper?”
“Yes, Professor.” And just like that, our conversation is over.
When lunch time finally arrives, I take my boodle and the lunch I brought from home and head outside. It’s a beautiful day and I decide to take a walk round Harvard Square before setting down to eat my lunch. It’s not quite fall yet, but I can just start to feel the briskness in the air returning. In a matter of weeks, the leaves will begin to change colors. It’s my absolute favorite time of year. After my lunch, I walk to the lounge to get a cup of tea to start my afternoon. In the room is an attractive redhead making a pot of coffee.
“Hi there!” she says cheerfully. “You must be Professor Di Roma’s new assistant?”
“I am. My name is Londyn.”
“Oh em gee, I love your accent. Where are you from?”
“England.”
“Oh! Of course. My name is Ella.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m Professor Lance’s teaching assistant. She teaches French Literature. How is it going so far?”
“So far it’s fine.”
“Has he been mean to you yet? I heard he can’t make it 24 hours without yelling at someone.” Ella giggles after this statement.
“He hasn’t yelled at me yet. I hope he never does.”
“I hope so too. It would be nice to have someone around my age. Most of the other women around here are old biddies.”
I smile at her comment. “I’ll do my best.”
“I’m just down the hall if you ever need anything. Last door on the left. Don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Ella leaves the room and I’m happy to have met someone.
I decide to make a cup of tea for the professor too, unsure of if he even drinks it. These are details I should find out. Entering the office, I find Professor Di Roma once again engrossed in his work, typing rapidly on the computer keyboard in front of him. He glances up briefly then returns to his work.
“I brought you a cup of tea, Professor.”
“Thank you. Set it down,” he responds without glancing up. I hope that means he likes tea. Taking my seat, I watch him take a sip then continue typing. “Did you put honey in this?”
“Yes. I can make a new cup if you don’t like it.”
“I like it.”
“Good.” I set about finishing the remaining tasks for the day. I hope I’m pleasing him with my work. He doesn’t say much and I’m nervous to engage him in conversation again since I always end up making a fool of myself.
At a quarter to six, we finally finish everything he wanted done today. I start to gather my things, but
notice the professor lingering. I look up, waiting for him to speak.
“You did a nice job today, Miss Harper.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re pleased with my work.”
“Very pleased. You don’t require a lot of hand holding and I value that.”
I can’t hold back my smile. I, Londyn Harper, have made the world’s most difficult man happy. He didn’t say happy, but I’m going to take it that way.
We walk out together, and at the bottom of the stairs, part ways.
“Have a good night, Professor.”
“You as well.”
Sitting in my seat going home, I reflect on my day. Ella seems like fun. I learned the professor is not gay and neither is Nico. I shall commence fantasizing immediately.
My final note is one I didn’t expect to write.
Note to self: Professor Demanding is nicer than he seems.
POURING MYSELF A GLASS of wine, I reflect on the day. So far, I am actually feeling hopeful about my new assistant.
An unexpected smile spreads across my lips as I think of her. She is an interesting girl. I find myself enjoying my banter with her. It’s so rare a woman can match my intelligence. Not that I think women are dumb. I think women play dumb. Not Londyn, though. She relishes her intelligence and keeps it on display. The longer she is around me, the more bravery she shows. I like that she is not intimidated by me. Well, a bit perhaps, but not nearly as much as my former assistant, Lauren. She couldn’t utter a word or stick up for herself at all. One day she had too much, I suppose. I still remember when she cussed me out, threw her coffee cup across the room, and walked out. I can’t help but chuckle. Then there was Vanessa, who I’m positive wanted to order a hit on me. She hated me. It’s not my fault that she made constant errors, couldn’t keep up with the workload, and found me overly abrasive. Doesn’t everyone know that about me?
To know Londyn thought I was gay is beyond amusing. What else is she to think, though? I’m never seen with a woman. It’s not the first time that label has been attributed to me, but I’m most definitely not gay. Just broken.
Londyn Falls Page 7