Page 83 of The Love Interest
I feel uneasy about something, just thought you should know.
FYI Veronica is a b-face, and she may try to ruin everything. See you tonight!
I love you and I want you to know that, in case everything gets fucked up.
I really want to tell him that last thing, but not in a text.
I love him.
I want him to know this.
I will tell him when I see him tonight.
I really hope things don’t get fucked up.
39
EMMETT
I’ve only been a professor for one semester, but even I know that when a student requests a meeting with you within hours of receiving her transcript, she isn’t stopping by to tell you how pleased she is with her grade.
I knew Veronica would be trouble from Day One, but not the good kind of trouble—like Fiona. Not the sassy, nipple-y, impassioned kind of trouble. The self-important, privileged, entitled sort of trouble I grew up around in private schools and at Yale. The kind of personIwas until Sophie straight-talked it out of me.
Veronica is waiting for me outside my office when I get there after my class. Classic move designed to trip me up. Too bad it doesn’t work.
I give her a nod as I unlock the door. “Give me a minute,” I tell her, shutting the door behind myself and leaving her to wait in the hall.
Two minutes until our agreed appointment time, so she can wait out there for two minutes. I haven’t spent much time in here since I had that encounter with Fiona, but every now and then, I think I get a whiff of her when I’m at my desk. Like right now, for instance.
I haven’t heard from her since she found out about the A. All I want to do is text her, but that could lead to a text conversation, which could lead to a mild to moderate erection, which is the last thing I need when I have to talk to Veronica in one minute.
I keep my phone in my pocket and decide to get this meeting over with so I can go home.
“Come on in, Veronica,” I call out.
After a moment, the door cracks open.
No, I did not open the door for you.
I don’t stand up either.
“Have a seat.” I gesture toward one of the chairs in front of my desk. She shuts the door and takes a seat. “What’s up?”
She has a smug look on her face. That is not what I was expecting. “Hi, Professor Ford. How are you?”
“Fine. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you.” She makes a big show of observing the items on my desk. “You know, the last time I met with you in your office, I was out in the hall right outside the door and I saw you remove a piece of paper that was covering that little window. Then, through the window, I saw you tidying up some things that had fallen on the floor.”
Shit.
“Which was interesting to me because I had just passed Fiona Walker on my way over. She seemed flushed. Disheveled. A bit bewildered, perhaps.”
Fuck.
“And then when you let me in here, I got the sense that, well…youknow.”
I remain still and silent. She’ll get to her point whether I ask for it or not.
