Page 1 of Dean Daddy

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DEAN DADDY

MASON

The halls are rife with the clamor of first-year students rushing from class to class. They’re filled with anxiety because they have yet to grasp the difference between high school and college. Here, you don’t get reprimanded for being late for class.

Welcome to adulthood where nobody warns you. They just fail you if it happens too frequently.

I retreat to my office for a moment of peace. But then I remember that there’s another task on my to-do list, and any peace that I manage to find will be very short-lived. This is the day that I’ve been dreading ever since I received that surprising phone call from my father’s new wife. I had to stare at the phone for a moment before answering. I figured since she never calls me, it must be bad news. I answered expecting to hear a frantic voice on the line telling me that my father was ill, injured, or worse.

Imagine my surprise when she was calm, cool, and cordial. She wanted a favor.

Why I agreed to this is anybody’s guess. Call it a misguided sense of family obligation. Her daughter just came back from studying abroad and wants to come work here as an assistant professor. Since I just happen to be the Dean, she would like me to both employ her and babysit her while she gets accustomed to the college and the city.

I don’t mind hiring her. Assistant professors don’t make much and since they don’t teach their own classes, it’s not a big deal if they don’t work out. It’s the other part that I take issue with. I’m a busy guy, and my time is precious. I don’t need a stepsister to look after. Besides, she’s been living alone in a foreign country for a year. She should be perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

My phone vibrates and I read the text, “Thank you for this opportunity. I should be arriving on campus in about ten minutes.” I set the phone on my desk and sink into my chair.

What is my game plan here? I suppose I could onboard her and then take her to lunch. After a little small talk, I can assign her to the senior professor that best matches her personality and hope that he or she will feel obligated to take on the babysitting responsibilities for me.

There’s a gentle knock on my office door and I reluctantly say, “Come in.”

The door opens slowly and I have to catch my breath as I feast my eyes on the most beautiful young woman that I’ve ever seen. My heart hammers in my chest and time stops for a moment. All I see is her, and I have to physically restrain myself from closing the distance separating us, taking her in my arms, and slamming my mouth to hers.

I clear my throat and stumble to form words.

“I’m sorry, I was expecting someone else. Can I help you?” I ask.

“Oh, did you not get my text?” She looks bewildered by my confusion.

“You’re…you’re…”

“I’m Marcella Brown. I’m your stepsister. Please call me Marcie.” She holds out her hand, and I rise from my seat to take it.

“Mason. Mason Mitchell,” I introduce myself as I hold her tiny hand in mine.

Her blue eyes sparkle when she smiles, and I inspect every inch of her pretty face so I can record it to memory.

“Please sit. I have some paperwork for you,” I tell her, rifling through the files on my desk to find the forms.

She takes a seat in the leather chair facing my desk, providing me a clear view of the hint of cleavage that shows through the top of her white, floral blouse. I strain my neck in the hopes of seeing a bit more. She catches my gaze and directs me back to her eyes but not before I admire her tiny waist and ample hips.

“When you’ve completed the paperwork, we can get some lunch and get to know each other better,” I suggest.

“That sounds nice.” Her smile sends a warm rush through my body that settles right in my groin.

“I hate to ask for a favor so soon, but do you think I can delay starting for a few days? I have an apartment to move into and I don’t own any furniture. I should have gotten here sooner, but I had to complete finals.”

“I understand. That’s no trouble. I can help you if you’d like. I’m sure there will be some heavy lifting involved.”

“I’d be so grateful if you would. If I can avoid paying some delivery fees, I might actually be able to feed myself,” she chuckles.

“Are you having financial issues?” I ask her.

“Getting back to the States was expensive and then there was food, transportation, and rent when I got here. I haven’t been employed so I’ve spent most of my savings. I can’t wait to start getting a steady paycheck.” She hesitates and gets a bit red in the face, “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think that I’m just here for the money. I’m very grateful for this opportunity.”

Her candor touches my heart and makes her even more attractive.

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