Page 16 of Dear Mr. Brody

“You’re talented, Mr. Mills. I think it’s something you should at least consider.”

“Maybe… you know you can call me Parker. The Mr. Mills thing is kind of stuffy.”

“It’s stuffy?” he asked, and I noticed he’d shaved today. His jaw line was unfuckingreal.

“Definitely,” I said. “You might get more engagement in class if… I don’t know… maybe you relaxed a little.”

“Thanks for the tip.” A pale pink filled his cheeks and he glanced at his watch. “Well, I should let you get going…”

“Yeah… you too.”

Neither one of us made the first move to leave, and the same weighted static from last night surrounded our clumsy goodbye.

“About last night...” I started to say, but he cut me off with the wave of his hand.

“It’s not my business what you and your boyfriend do outside of class, Mr. Mills.”

“Boyfriend? Last time I checked I was single.”

“I thought…” His eyes drifted to the seat Marcos had been sitting in earlier.

“Marcos and I are just friends who unfortunately live together.”

He raked a hand through his dark hair, the thick strands falling back over his brow shadowed his eyes as he laughed. “I saw you dancing together last night, and I assumed he—”

“You saw us dancing together?” I asked, unable to hide the humor in my tone. “And you didn’t join us?”

Three soft laugh lines appeared at the corner of each of his eyes as his crooked smile spread across his face.

“And this is why I’ll never call you Parker.”

Donovan

Preoccupied with the manuscript I’d been working through, I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. I had to pick up Anne at six from Lanie’s yoga studio, and it was already four-thirty, giving me less than forty minutes to finish up. I rushed through reading the last pages, deciding the book would be a hard sell in a young adult market, and hoped maybe with a few changes it would be more appropriate. I attached it to an email and sent it off to Kris, asking if she wouldn’t mind setting up a meeting with the author for tomorrow. Even though she was Anders’s assistant she helped me out every once in a while. Since I’d taken on this other job, I had a feeling I might need my own assistant at some point. I was only one week in, and I already had too much on my plate. How the hell did all the other professors teach more than one class? There was no way they read all the papers they assigned. I barely had the time to finish grading all the essays from Monday, and I already had students submitting the essay I’d assigned yesterday. Whatever happened to good old procrastination? When I was in college, I waited until the last minute to turn in my work. It was a motivation technique. Stress-induced writing was always my best. These students were overachievers. One student, in particular, came to mind.

Parker Mills.

I’d read his first essay at least five times. It was only three pages long, and sure it hadn’t been filled with lyrical metaphors, but he’d painted such an honest, clear, and vivid picture of his life. I envied him in some ways. His talent. His confidence on and off the page. I was ten years older than him, but in fifteen-hundred words he’d already lived more of a life than I ever had. It wasn’t professional to show favoritism, but the truth was, I couldn’t wait for him to send in the new assignment. I might’ve double-checked my WSC email account once or twice or twelve times this afternoon to check if he’d sent it in yet. Which I thought was a perfectly acceptable professor thing to do. But to stop myself from checking again, I shutdown my laptop and started to pack up my things.

“Serrano is booked for tomorrow at nine,” Kris said as she walked into my office.

“Wow. That was fast.”

Her pink-painted lips broke into a wide grin. “I’m that good, Van.”

“I’d say so.” I laughed as I stood. “How much would it take to steal you away from Anders?”

She pursed her lips and leaned a hip against the doorjamb, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Aw… you’re sweet. You know you can’t afford me.”

Cracking up, I slipped my bag over my shoulder. “Honest and loyal, two very admirable qualities.”

She lifted her hand to her mouth and whispered, “For Christ’s sake, don’t say it so loud. Next thing you know, Claire will be asking me for favors too.”

“Well, I’m thankful for the help.”

“Pfft… I don’t mind. I know how busy y’all get, and most of the time I’m bored gossiping on the phone with my neighbor from across the street…” Her eager eyes found mine. “Who is newly single, by the way. Cute girl, works at the library.”

Once my divorce had become official, Kris had decided to play matchmaker.

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