Page 11 of The Professor: Ep. 1

“I wasn’t aware you were waiting for me,” Professor Kane replied, a set of dimples appearing as he smiled. “I was packing and lost track of time.”

“Heading back to New York?” my father guessed.

“Unfortunately,” Professor Kane muttered. “Holidays and all that.” His gray gaze shifted to me. “But seriously, you should consider specializing in health economics. You have a natural knack for it.”

Understanding brightened my dad’s brown eyes. “Ah, that’s right. You just had her in your class. How was it? Your first semester as a professor?” He glanced at me. “And how did he do?”

Professor Kane arched a brow. “Yes, how did I do?”

I lifted a shoulder. “You’ll find out when you read the professor evaluation results.” I’d completed mine just yesterday and had only included glowing remarks for him.

My dad chuckled. “Uh oh, Kane. You might be in trouble.”

“Indeed,” he replied, his amusement evident. “Well, I think my first semester went okay. It’s clear that health economics isn’t as popular as I’d like, and there are many who disagree on my feelings in regard to physician salaries being far too high in the United States, but I argued my case.”

“You did,” I agreed. “And on that, I think you’re right. But the culprit is the high cost of medical school. Lower that and the doctors don’t need to be paid as much.”

He smiled. “See, she’s a natural,” he said to my father. “She had some choice things to say about universal healthcare, too.”

“Because the structure in the US makes healthcare a commodity, not a human right. We’re completely at the mercy of company-driven insurance standards, while places like the UK are all regulated from the top. It has an impact on how demand is handled in this country.” I needed to stop talking now. If only I had a drink to sip from, but I’d refrained from accepting any wine earlier. I didn’t want my judgment clouded for later.

Professor Kane waved at me. “Future health economics expert right here.”

My dad laughed. “She’s definitely destined for public health.”

Because you never gave me a choice, I nearly said. Instead I smiled and remained silent.

The subject shifted back to Professor Kane’s first semester and his overall thoughts. Professor Thompson had a few comments as well, and the three began discussions for next year and their future courses.

Professor Kane was going to continue his health economics sequence with an advanced class—one I hadn’t signed up for.

But maybe I should.

Or would that be awkward after tonight?

Assuming tonight was still going to happen.

As the conversation continued, a general air of casualness settled over all of his. And aside from the occasional arm brush, Professor Kane didn’t pay any attention to me.

After thirty minutes of feeling invisible within their conversation, I excused myself to find some water in the kitchen. My father let me go, for which I was entirely grateful.

I searched the drink fridge for a bottle of water and found it only full of beer and wine.

The regular fridge held much of the same.

Probably because my mom was trying to limit plastic intake in the house. It wasn’t great for the environment, something my father frequently commented on.

Grabbing a glass, I went in search for the filtered water cooler in my father’s study. After several swigs, I refilled my drink and turned to find Professor Kane leaning against the door jamb. “Thirsty?” he asked, his gaze running over my dress in obvious appreciation.

“Umm.” I cleared my throat. “Yes.” I brought the glass to my lips and tilted the contents into my mouth. He watched while I swallowed, his pupils flaring with interest.

When I finished, he pushed off the door jamb and sauntered inside to take the cup from my hand. He filled it with water and drank from the same place on the rim, his eyes holding mine the whole time. Then he tilted his head and asked, “Where’s your room?”

My lips parted. “M-my bedroom?” I stammered, sounding like a complete idiot. Of course he meant my bedroom. “Upstairs,” I quickly clarified before he could reply.

“Is there a back way up?” he asked. “Or just the main staircase?”

I stared at him. “There’s another set of stairs near the kitchen.”

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