Page 20 of Dad's Best Friend Professor
She rolls her eyes. “I’ve always liked the subject. I just resisted it because I didn’t want to do what my dad wanted me to.”
“Okay. But you shouldn’t do it to keep me here either. You’ll regret it later.”
“I won’t!” she says. “It’ll be so exciting! Come on, Tony. Don’t you like this? Discussing history and war after fucking me on your chaise? Wouldn’t you like doing it every day for the rest of your life?”
I gaze at her and let her enthusiasm carry me away. “Hell yes,” I mutter.
She smiles, pushing me so I lie flat on the chaise, and she lies on top of me. “I’m going to ride you now, Tony,” she says and kisses me.
Chapter 13
Tony
My hands sweat, and my breathing struggles to remain even as I stand in front of the department’s conference room and wait for my job talk to begin. I’ve been preparing for the moment for nearly a month. Anna, my feisty, secret girlfriend, has made me go over the presentation over and over in the past week, conducting mock interviews with me when she wasn’t studying for her own finals.
The thought of the girl brings a smile to my face. I can do this. I chant the mantra in my head. I want this. I want a life with Anna.
The hiring committee consists of five members: Dr. Smith, the department chair, Dr. Davis, the associate chair, and two other faculty members are present. The fifth member is an emeritus professor who’s on vacation in South America but will watch the recordings of the job talks later.
John clears his throat and initiates the meeting. He introduces us to each other briefly but formally as if we haven’t met, and then he gives me an encouraging nod. I take a deep breath, clear my throat and begin.
“Throughout human history, millions, if not billions of people have died in wars. Despite our effort to advocate peace in the modern era, violent conflicts have only increased worldwide. Politicians ignore history and make the same mistakes over and over, using ideologies to motivate people, appealing to countrymen’s patriotism and religious beliefs, and making them think the brutal wars they’re fighting are justifiable.” I speak passionately. “But sadly, the real causes of war are always selfish and are inseparable from humans’ primal instincts to gain territory and resources. Not until we’re ready to admit that the instinct to fight is our caveman nature will we put an end to warfare and start treating international issues with humanitarian approaches.”
When I stop talking twenty minutes later, my heart is beating a hundred miles. Shit. I’ve never been so nervous in front of a roomful of people.
I don’t have much time to breathe before the committee members start asking me questions. Most of them are reasonable questions that I’ve expected and practiced. When I see Dr. Davis’s hand, my stomach drops slightly, but I nod with confidence.
“So you’re saying, men have the tendency to fight because they want to control women and because women are their resources?”
I know she’s deliberately making my theory sound misogynistic, and I’m used to this kind of attack. So I don’t even pause when I respond. “Not quite. What I’m trying to argue is, men fight for limited natural resources to impress women.”
She raises an eyebrow while the others huff or scoff. Knowing they expect elaboration, I go on. “Yes. The urge to fight originates from the urge to reproduce. Sea lions right here at Sunnyvale Beach engage in deadly fights for their colony because the winner gets to mate.”
“Are you saying that men, including yourself, are no different from male sea lions?” Dr. Davis asks with a smirk.
Damn it. This woman really hates my guts. She wants to make me look foolish because my answer is obvious. Just imagine I’ll have to be in the same conference room with her on a regular basis if I became a faculty member here makes me cringe. I pause for a moment before I speak.
“No. I’m saying that we have the same instinct as sea lions. But if we don’t admit our weakness and let it direct us to commit crimes, then we are no different from them.” I say, staring into her eyes.
The other committee members nod at my statement, but Dr. Davis doesn’t relent in her challenge. She pauses for just a moment before asking her next question, “Is it correct to assume that you’re fighting for this job because you want to impress a lady?”
My jaw drops. She didn’t just say that! Damn. Anna and I have been keeping our relationship a secret after our initial, reckless acts. After that first midterm, I’ve never brought her again to my office or even flirted with her in the classroom. The only time she saw us together was at the elevator that day… Shit. The shrewd woman must’ve detected something fishy from our nervous looks. I was trying to hide my bulge with my suitcase, and Anna wasn’t even wearing her underwear.
I sigh inwardly and decide the best way to answer that outrageous question is to be honest. “You’re right, Dr. Davis. I’m fighting for the position out of primal instinct, too. Besides my love for teaching history, I need this job to impress a girl I met not long ago. Believe me, this is not a frivolous motive at all. Impressing the opposite sex is what people spend most of their reproductive years doing. I’m not ashamed to admit it at all, especially this amazing girl is worth it. She’s the reason I’m here to face the challenge of a job interview—something I’ve dreaded and eschewed all my life because it’s no different from putting myself on the butcher’s block.”
Holy Mother of God. I can’t believe I just said that. I glance around to see the effect of my statement and am not surprised to see faces schooled to hide amusement. Some aren’t even trying to hide. There’re faint chortles. Dr. Davis herself is smirking. That’s it. I’ve definitely bombed this. What happened to the pet talk I gave myself earlier? I’m supposed to be modest. Honesty will get me nowhere in the academic world or any workplace.
I wait for more attacks but get none. It’s mostly silence in the conference room, except for someone clearing their throats or coughing. The committee members are busy jotting down notes on paper forms or typing on their computers.
“Very well,” Johns says, looking up from his screen. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Ryder. We’ll inform you of our decision within a month.”
“I love the look on her face when you said your last sentence,” Anna says with a giggle when she watches the video of the job talk. John recorded the interviews for the committee member who couldn’t make it to the meeting. He posted it online and shared the link with us just a day ago, and Anna couldn’t wait to watch it.
“She definitely has the hots for you.”
I shake my head no. “She hates my guts. Thinks I’m a womanizer.”
“No you’re not.” she leans in to kiss my lips. “You’re just a dirty professor who sleeps with his students.”
