Page 1 of Education with Dad's Best Friend
Chapter 1
Albert
I GRIMACE as soon as I turn onto Flora Street. Trash and used furniture strew on the sidewalk. The houses are rundown, and so are the cars parking in front of them. I can’t believe such a slum exists right next to Beverly Hills.
Just why am I doing this? I must be insane. I’m a college professor, yet here I am, coming to provide in-home tutoring to a girl who can’t do and probably hates math. But John is a long-time friend, and we’ve made a deal.
The girl I’ll tutor is John’s illegitimate child with an ex-girlfriend, who left him for another man over a decade ago, taking their daughter with her. After years’ vagabond life in a trailer while traveling across states, the mother and child have recently returned to the city. The girl has skipped most of her high school and is now taking classes at an adult high school. John, who’s the provost of the elite university I teach, values education as much as I do, and would like me to help his daughter get into our college. In return, he promises he’ll make me the dean of admissions, a position I’ve aspired to for many years.
I park in front of a shoebox apartment building that could use some paint job. As soon as I enter the building, the smell of cat urine greets me. I frown. The place is worse than any apartment I’ve stayed in during my college years.
I go up to the second floor, locate the unit, and ring the doorbell. The door across the hallway opens, and I see a young man with unkempt hair watching me through the crack.
I ring the doorbell again and still no answer. The door isn’t soundproof, though, because I hear a girl’s voice singing from inside. Her voice is so pure and lovely I can’t help pressing my ear against the door to listen to more.
“You’ve got to knock,” the young man across the hallway says to me. “She can’t hear you.”
I knock on the door. Still hearing no answer, I bang louder.
A moment later, I hear the same silvery voice answer, “Coming!”
The door opens, and there, stands next to it, is a timid but the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
Her baby blue eyes stare at me trustingly, and the front of her strawberry blonde hair is combed back and secured with a pink bow hairpin on top of her head. John says his daughter is eighteen, but this girl in front of me looks a lot younger than that. Unlike most of the high school girls I’m familiar with, she wears no makeup at all. The pink glow on her chubby cheeks is all-natural. She doesn’t look like she belongs to this squalid place at all. She’s an angel.
My breath catches when my eyes travel to below her neck. She’s wearing a thin cotton nightgown—so thin I can see the pink crests of her maiden mounds, innocently begging for attention—my manhood jolts. I swallow as my eyes glide down to her bare legs, my hands itching to feel her smooth skin. She wears no shoes, and her feet are beautiful too. I don’t have a foot fetish, but I have an overwhelming impulse to kiss them and to rub them against my face at the moment.
While I drink in the sight of her, the girl seems to be equally fascinated by me. Her innocent, bright eyes roam over me from head to toe and then back to fix on my face. I’m positive she likes what she sees—thank God. Many women think I’m handsome, and I’m used to being gawked at. But nothing thrills me more than the approval look on this angel’s face.
“My mom isn’t home,” she says in a small voice, almost like a whisper, and her cheeks flush.
I fight the churning sensation in the middle part of my body and clear my throat. “I’m not looking for your mom. I’m Albert, your dad’s friend. I’m here to tutor you in math. Are you Elsie?”
“Yes.” She steps aside to let me in. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were coming today.”
“Your dad didn’t tell you?”
She shakes her head. “He might’ve told Mom, and she might’ve forgotten.”
That must be it.
“Have a seat,” she says as she gestures me toward the couch, suddenly assuming an adult’s demeanor. “Would you like something to drink? We have orange juice and soda.”
“No, thanks,” I say as I sit down on the couch, impressed by her good manners. “Are you always home alone?”
“Not always. Only when Mom works at night.”
John told me Elsie’s mom worked at a supermarket.
In the bright light of the living room, Elsie’s nubile body is even more tempting. My eyes keep roaming over her curves. God, she’s beautiful. She’s petite but curvy in the right places. When she turns away from me, I see her cute buns, and it’s all I can do not to give her playful swat.
This is very inappropriate. Since when have I become a dirty old man?
Working at a university, I see female students wearing skimpy clothes all the time. Camisoles are almost a uniform of the college girls in summers, not to mention shorts that barely cover their thighs. Cleavages are free on display, and it isn’t unusual to see girls baring their backs, but they’ve never aroused me. In my eyes, they’re just kids, even though they might have adults’ bodies.
So why am I so turned on at the moment by my best friend’s daughter, especially since she is not trying to flaunt her assets? This is sick. I’ve got to get a grip on myself.
“Elsie,” I say, clearing my throat. “Are you ready for some algebra?”
