Page 82 of Bound in Debt
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I’m playing with fire, but I have to admit I want to see what Professor Moretti will say when his wife slinks into class five minutes late. Peeking through the window of the door, I see that the only available seats are in the front row.
Good.
I want him to have to think about what he missed out on when he denied me this morning. Quickly, I reach my fingers up to tease a few curls loose from my single long braid. Ellie outdid herself as my stylist, tossing me a thin black turtleneck and a red lace bra to pair with a red pleated skirt that falls to my knees. The bra and top combo is genius—the knit fabric is thin enough that you can see the impression of the lace underneath and, if you look closely, you can catch a hint of the red color.
I got a nod of approval when I pulled on a pair of silvery mesh tights and sweet patent leather Mary-Janes.
I think we nailed “secret slut”.
Well, it’s now or never. I give the door a nudge and step into class, my head held high.
“Miss Waldorf, how nice of you to join us.” Will I ever stop shivering at the sound of his voice?
“Professor Moretti,” I nod.
His lips flatten into a stern line. “I believe I’ve made my feelings on punctuality clear, Miss Waldorf.”
“As crystal, Professor Moretti.” Someone in the back of the room gasps. There’s a vein jumping on Dante’s forehead.
“Are you at least prepared? I expect my first chair,” he pauses, glaring at me pointedly, “violin to be a dedicated student.”
I settle myself in the last remaining seat, directly in front of Dante’s podium, and lift my violin from its case. I lift the instrument and gesture broadly with my bow. “Would you like me to demonstrate? I believe I can handle the piece well enough.”
He sucks in a breath through his teeth, definitely not missing my double meaning. I can feel the wide-eyed stares of my classmates, but I only have eyes for our professor—my husband. His eyes flash and I know I’ve interested him.
Time to reel him in.
With a confidence I’ve ever felt before, I place my violin under my chin, take a deep breath, and begin to play.
The music he assigned last period is haunting, written in a minor key, with complex runs of notes that echo the movement of wind over the ocean. I give myself over to the melody, closing my eyes and letting the music wash over me. It calms me like nothing else, grounding me in the midst of one of the most chaotic days of my life.
My mother may be a bitch, but she did get me my first lessons, letting me find the eternal sort of love she’s never been capable of somewhere in between the strings and varnished wood of my violin.
As I finish the piece—flawlessly, I might add—I look up. Dante’s eyes are burning with something I can’t identify. He opens his mouth, but before he can say a word, I see Bailey out of the corner of my eye. She shoots me a quick thumbs up and breaks into applause. Mockingly, I bow my head, a soft grin crossing my face.
Hopefully my husband has gotten the message. I won’t be ignored.
26
DANTE
Friday, September 13, 3:30 PM
“It’s completely unethical conduct and absolutely inappropriate, Mr. Moretti. I’m shocked and utterly disappointed that a dignified faculty member, such as yourself, could have such unscrupulous thoughts and mannerisms. I know as men that we sometimes find ourselves?—”
“Are you done?” I insert, already seeing what Dr. James Amos, Assistant Dean of Thronewood University, is getting at.
Victoria and I have been outed.
We’ve only been married for a day. I’d hoped we wouldn’t have to make the announcement until we had a positive pregnancy test to flash for the lawyers, but the timing is out of our hands now.
I’d put a nice amount of money on my nephew having something to do with this, but I’d have to give a fuck to throttle him for it. Being fired from my position at Thronewood is the least of my present worries. Although it does have the unfortunate side effect of meaning I won’t be able to keep an eye on Victoria as easily. I had a hard enough time letting her return to her dorm to sleep last night, but she had sworn Ellie would be in the room with her every minute.
“Mr. Moretti?—”
“Where is the dean?” I press, annoyed he sent an underling to fire me. “I’m highly disheartened that he couldn’t take the time to do this himself.”
