Page 5 of Love, Academically
But Lila just smiled at him. “The students are keen that you do some professional development regarding this issue.”
“Fine,” he ground out. Anything to not have a blemish on his record that his father could use against him. There was no hiding from it. His father would find out, he always did. Rhys wondered idly whether his father had planted a camera in his office; he wouldn’t put it past him.
If possible, Lila Cartwright’s smile grew wider.
“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” she said, reaching for a cookie. “Mm, these are good, aren’t they?”
They were, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of agreeing. Rhys’s eye twitched.
“The other thing, Miss Cartwright?” he asked.
She took another bite of the cookie, brushing crumbs onto his carpet.
“Yeah, so the students feel it would be best if they have their seminars with you in my office.”
Her throat bobbed in a swallow and a pink blush stained her cheeks as Rhys looked at her. His seminars? In her office? Supervised?
“I require supervision?” he asked quietly, dangerously.
“No, no, it wouldn’t be supervision,” she said lightly. “It would just be having them in a different space, a different environment. You won’t even notice me.”
“Am I to expect constructive feedback at the end of each session?”
Lila shrugged. “Well, only if you want it, but I didn’t think you would.”
Rhys raised an eyebrow. Was she so naive that she didn’t understand sarcasm?
“I would actually be working, but I’m sure I can rearrange my days to make sure I can attend properly, if you want me to?” Her voice raised slightly at the end of her sentence, and Rhys could actually see the cogs in her mind working.
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Miss Cartwright.”
She frowned slightly before plastering that annoyingly beautiful smile on her face again, as she stood and grabbed the tin from his desk.
“Here,” he said, offering her the battered and dogeared staff handbook back. He did not want it.
“You keep it, I’ve got loads. I’ll book you on those courses.” She turned to leave. “Oh, and Rhys?”
“Hmm?” His eyes were on his screen already because now thisridiculous conversation was over, he could get back to what he was supposed to be doing. What more could she possibly want?
“What’s with the whole ‘Miss Cartwright’ thing? Call me Lila.”
He cut his eyes to her, surprised. Was she trying to be his friend?
“Okay, see you later!” She hugged the cookie tin to her chest and swept out of the room, leaving rainbows and sweetness in her wake.
Rhys scowled at the door she’d left open.
Lila
By about four, Lila had finished her tin of cookies and had made a significant dent in checking the student intranet log-ins that had been inputted incorrectly by the previous coordinator. But she was flagging as she watched the students stream past her door, heading home or to the pub, clustered together, laughing and joking.
Grabbing her phone from her bag, she pulled up the group chat she had with her two best friends.
Jasmeet text back immediately.
Lila smiled. For all her toughness and no-bullshit attitude, Jasmeet loved her job as a primary school teacher, and her kids loved her. Yes, it was all snot and tears and scraped knees, but Jasmeet’s fridge was covered in beautifully scribbled, colourful cards and pictures from her students, past and present. More were added every year.
Maddy was always late to the party and couldn’t remember anything, but she was one hundred percent forgiven because she had the most adorable, squidgiest, giggliest seven-month-old baby that Lila had ever seen.
