Page 15 of My Forbidden Professor

That’s all background to me. My focus is on Steph’s slender back as she walks in front of me to an empty booth, face tucked behind a curtain of dark hair. “Will this do?”

It’s the farthest from the entrance. She turns and waits for me to nod before she slides into the booth and hunkers into the corner. She pulls her laptop from her backpack, sets it on the table and opens it up, creating a very effective screen. I settle on the seat opposite and watch as she adds to the work we’ve already done.

The waitress stops at our table with her electronic ordering pad at the ready. “What can I get for you two this evening?”

Steph glances from the menu to the waitress. “I’ll have a cheese and bacon burger, please.”

“And for you, sir?”

I don’t need to look at the menu. I know the foods on these tiny laminated sheets backwards. This café is on the outskirts of the university and one of the places I frequent.

“I’ll have the same. Two sides of fries. And a pitcher of Coke, please.”

Steph hasn’t ordered enough. I’ll give her my fries. The granola bar she ate earlier is not enough. It’s the only thing I’ve seen her eat today. But she didn’t accept the sandwiches I bought for lunch. Or the fruit I laid out between us to snack on, either.

“Water for me please,” she adds softly, and my brows pull into a frown.

“Be back in a sec.” As the waitress moves off, Steph returns her attention back to her computer. “I was thinking, if we add on a manufacturing arm for our company, we’d hypothetically be able to save half of our budget off contracting costs alone.”

“Don’t forget, we’d have to get licensing from the planning office if we did that, and pay fees that are adopted into those contracting costs.”

She brings her gaze to mine but she’s not really looking at me. She’s focused inwards the way she’s been most of the day, which suits me. I can drink her in without her being self-conscious. The sparks in the depths of her eyes draw me in and I can practically see her mind processing a million thoughts. Her lips part and I lean in. “True, but we can absorb those expenses into the costs of material and it would only result in adding half a cent per product. I’d rather pay the licensing and work with local government, than potentially be held up because of a contractor if they miss anything. In this instance, the cost of in-sourcing after the set up cost of a manufacturing arm beats the cost of potentially being out of business for months or having to find new contractors.”

We’ve spent hours expanding my humble class assignment into a quality dissertation. The business we developed, EcoFlow, and the high-efficiency sustainable home appliances designed to minimize energy consumption and reduce the carbon footprint of the average American household has been all her creation. This will be a quality dissertation.

She’s brilliant.

Beautiful.

I want more.

I want her to be mine.

The realization hits me with the strength of a sledgehammer. I sit there, heart racing, blood burning as I let the shockwaves ripple through me.

I want her to be mine. Mine.

“How can you be sure a contractor could put a business out of work like that?” I don’t take my eyes off her. I want to see every little twitch on her face. Every gesture.

We’ve been stuffed in my office where the air became stained with her scent. Where I’ve slowly been digging myself into this grave. I know I should contain myself when it comes to her. The difference between right and wrong blares as loud as a nuclear blast in my head.

But knowing what I should do and being able to do it are two different things. The more time we’ve spent together, the more I want what I shouldn’t have. And the less I care.

Hours have passed but they may as well have been seconds. The mystery surrounding her has only grown.

How does she know what she knows?

She shrugs. Shrugs as though the answer is obvious and not something any student her age could possibly know. “Not every contractor could put a business out of work, of course. Only contractors who have too much power. Once that happens, it pays to reassess and invest in your own business. Always stop outside influences from putting you out of work, and contractors are a resource that should never be powerful enough to do that. No one else will be as invested in your business as you, and you should never expect they will.”

I try to reconcile the twenty-three-year-old woman sitting opposite me with the level of business acumen she’s displaying.

“How do you know all of this?” I ask.

Her brow creases. “About what?”

“About contractors. Licensing. Town planning.” They’re all very important, and I’d expect someone who works in industry to know. Not a student.

Her gaze drops to the table and she plays with a corner of the worn menu. “My father is in business. He talks to me about it. I’ve picked things up along the way.”

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