Page 31 of Drama Queen

I shake my head with a smirk at Eva.

“She doesn’t need any encouragement,” I whisper as I walk by, following Mum back through the secure door. Eva’s chuckle cuts off when the door closes behind me.

“How was your first day, princess?”

“Great, actually. Didn’t get lost, learned some stuff, met some people.”

“And forgot how to elaborate, apparently,” she adds with a laugh.

“How about yours?” I ask, changing the subject.

We have walked past several small offices that look like tech rooms covered in cables, laptops, cameras, and their associated parts.

“Not over yet. But I’m loving it so far. The role is exactly what I expected, which is great considering it’s a pretty big step up,” she says, stopping in front of the first of the larger offices I can see at this end of the hallway. Her name is on the frosted door above her new job title, Chief Financial Officer.

“Fancy,” I say, pointing at the signage, waggling my eyebrows at her as I walk through the open door. Once in the room, though, I wish I’d waited to make that comment until now.

Floor-to-ceiling windows cover a whole wall, showing off views of the city. The office is big enough for a huge desk, a meeting table with four chairs, and a small lounge area off to the side. The TV above the couch is on, with the news channel streaming, but muted.

The decor is stunning, and exactly to Mum’s taste. Pared back, with clean lines in white and tans. A large flower arrangement is on the coffee table. I wander over to see if it’s real.

There is even a basket of goodies on the side table with what appears to be a small bar. I turn back to face Mum, the shock clearly on my face.

“I know, it’s too much! I told him the flowers were not necessary.”

Turning back to look at the flowers on the coffee table again, I see the note held on a clear rod amongst the stems.We’re so happy you’re here. Warm regards, Robert.Nice move, Robstar!

“I think they are gorgeous, and very well deserved. You should take him out for coffee as a thank you.”

“I have to get back to work, but you can make yourself comfortable anywhere you like. There’re snacks and drinks on the side table, and the private bathroom is just through there,” she says, clearly deflecting, and points to a very well-hidden door next to the side table that I hadn’t noticed. “I will probably be another hour yet.”

“I have plenty of studying to do, so take your time.”

Setting out my books, I get to work.

Seven

“We haveto stop meeting like this. People will talk.”

Hearing the now standard greeting from Anders, I keep my head lowered to hide the smile on my face.

“Surely you have other students to harass, Mr Cleave?” A very large vanilla latte enters my limited field of vision, but I still don’t look up at him.

“None that are willing to sass me like you do, Ms Davies.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. After another moment of silence, a plate with a sizeable slice of chocolate cake on it slides in next to the latte in front of me. My smile grows, but I still make him wait.

“Someone has to keep your head from growing so large you won’t be able to fit through doorways. And given most of the student population are either too intimidated to speak to you, or are likely to pop an eye out of its socket for all the batting of lashes, it appears the duty must fall on my shoulders.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” Anders sinks into the seat next to mine and leans in, lowering his voice. “It would be rather embarrassing if I couldn’t fit through the door when I finallyconvince you to agree to a more private study session at my home.”

We have been having this same conversation for the last couple of weeks. I returned to the café after classes on my second day, hoping for another chance meeting with Anders. Just like that first day, he showed up at my table with a coffee and sat for a short while, chatting with me about study, law, life, everything really. He shamelessly flirted, and I did absolutely nothing to dissuade him. As the days went on, I found Anders staying longer, and I was heading to Mum’s office later and later, until last week we completely lost track of time and Mum called me in a panic when she had finished for the day and I still hadn’t arrived. I stretched the truth a little and told her I was getting some help with a particularly complex legal principal and lost track of time, which calmed her somewhat, but I’d taken to setting an alarm after that. Anders, however, saw it as an opportunity to suggest that we move our “study sessions” to his house.

“Funny you should mention that, because I have an idea,” I say, turning to face him in time to see his head tilt and eyebrow raise with curiosity.

Really, it should be illegal for someone who looks like him to be so smart. The way his hair flops over an eye when he tilts his head, how he nibbles on the corner of his lip when he is considering a question in class, the way he gently guides a student to the right answer, but I’m the biggest fan of the way he makes me feel like we are the only people in the world when we’re together.

“If you look at me like that any longer, Aria, I’m not going to be able to leave for quite some time.” Anders’s smug smile comes back into focus as I realise I have been staring at his face for far longer than I should have, and I can feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Smooth, Aria.

I don’t acknowledge his comment and resist the urge to look down to see if he’s telling the truth by taking a gulp of my latte. “How would you feel about hosting an actual study group?”

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