1
Dani
Only two more hours of dealing with sorority girls who think they’re in an exclusive club when they order off the secret menu. The truth is, Frank, the owner, gets his teenage daughter to post the most insane concoctions on social media in the evening and again in the early morning for the ingredients we need to get rid of. He puts the directions on cards beneath the counter where customers can’t see them.
Banana week was hell because even the socialites weren’t sure secret banana mochas were worth the prestige. I hear Hailey (Frank’s daughter), however, has extorted enough cash from her dad for being his private influencer that she’s planning a trip to Paris before she starts college. That’s what Frank says, anyway. I’ve met Hailey. I suspect she’s investing it in bio-tech startups, but I know not to raise Frank’s blood pressure unduly.
I, however, am but a lowly barista cog in the mighty machine of Frank’s empire. And I have another two hours of pretending that I haven’t already made a hundred strawberry daiquiri lattes before I can say goodbye to Frank’s Coffee Haus and Bayview College. Well, technically graduation is tomorrow, but I’m still on the fence about whether I’m participating or not. I don’t have any family left to attend, so it almost doesn’t seem worth the effort.
Behind the line of five Deltas, a tall, well-built man with a stern expression joins the queue. I have to blink three times to be sure I’m not mistaking him for someone else. Nope, it’s Professor Malone. My probably not as secret as it should be crush. Even though it’s been more than two years since I even took one of his classes, I still get flutters when I see him.
I think he knows. He’s never said anything. And I’m hardly bold enough to cross embarrassing lines without a clear invitation. But when I took his Advanced Theory of Organizational Psychology class, all my work was graded by his teaching assistant. I’d gotten such funny and insightful comments from him my freshman year that I’d really been looking forward to getting to know him better in a smaller class. I was disappointed when the first few papers came back with a generic ‘good job’ or ‘nice insight’ from Fred, the pimply graduate student.
When I asked a few classmates once I’d started to suspect something was off, they said they got feedback from Professor Malone about half the time. So he was splitting the workload but always putting mine in Fred’s pile.
I got the message and didn’t try to sign up for a third class. Luckily, it wasn’t my major. I was simply following my mother’s advice and taking classes from good professors wherever I could. She said I’d never get another opportunity like college to explore so many esoteric things with brilliant minds. That he was a good professor, while also being gorgeous and funny, was a bonus.
I’m older than most of the students, this year more than ever. I delayed college for two years because my mother was dying. But she made me promise I would go and made sure it was all paid for ahead of time, so I didn’t have that excuse to delay it further. So now I’m twenty-four, nearly twenty-five, and still feeling fifteen when Professor Malone finally steps up to the counter.
“Dani, how are you?” he asks kindly, as if we’re old acquaintances that haven’t seen each other in a while.
“Professor Malone, hi. I didn’t know you frequented the Haus. What can I get you?” I try to remember to speak while drinking him in with my eyes. This might well be the last time I ever see him. I haven’t found a permanent job yet, but the odds are I’ll be leaving Destiny Bay soon. Either to relocate for a job or to move somewhere with more temporary office work that pays better.
“Uh, a basic coffee will do. Dani, I really came in here looking for you. There’s something I need to discuss with you. Any chance you can take a break shortly?”
He hasn’t smiled once, although he’s hardly being mean. I have no idea what he could possibly want to talk about. I blink. “Well, I get a ten-minute break in thirty minutes, but I’m done completely for the day in two hours.” I shrug, indicating it’s his choice.
He looks mildly amused. “How about I treat you to a celebratory chocolate almond ice cream when you’re done? We can walk over to the park to talk.”
I nod, bemused. It’s not like I have a choice when I literally won’t sleep ever again until I know what he wants to discuss. I hand him his coffee and blindly accept the five-dollar bill he hands me. “I’ll meet you there in a few hours,” he almost looks grim as he waits for my wide-eyed nod and then walks back out the door without a second glance.
Leo
Fuck, she’s gorgeous. More so every time I see her. The last three years have been a living hell. I still can’t decide if it was better or worse to see her in class or not. What I’d conveniently put out of my mind when I decided to wait until she graduated free and clear to stake my claim on her — was exactly how to start that conversation. At least I know she’s still attracted to me. I don’t think she’s even aware that her pupils are dilating, or she takes to biting her lower lip in a way that has me clenching my fists not to touch. If I have my choice, that ends tonight, but I realize not much in life is ever that easy.
And I certainly don’t want to scare her. I know she hasn’t dated, so she has little to no experience. Although I haven’t exactly been stalking her.
My best friend, who I confessed to when I realized I had strong feelings for a student, agreed to at least check up on her. But only if I stood down from hauling her out of her dorm room over my shoulder. He pointed out, rightly, that she deserved to finish school and make her own choices for her future, just like I’d had the opportunity to do. I knew he was right, even if I didn’t like hearing it. So I waited and waited for those monthly reports from him like my life depended on them.
Now that’s over. All her grades are in and locked. She’s officially a graduate without a hint of gossip surrounding her and I’m on a year-long sabbatical. Ostensibly to work on a book but really to regain my equilibrium, hopefully by fucking her nonstop. But if she turns me down flat, I can drown my sorrows out of the public eye and figure out how to change her mind.
I decide the best thing to do with the intervening few hours is walk laps around the park. I set the alarm on my phone and head down the trail, impatient to get to five o’clock.
2
Dani
I’m dying of curiosity by the time I pull open the door of the tiny ice cream shop down the street. If I’m honest, the curiosity is warring with anxiety, but the lure of the unknown is winning. Professor Malone is waiting out of the way, leaning on the wall between empty tables. He looks up when I walk in and I swear it’s almost relief in his eyes when he sees it’s me. He gestures to the vats of icy confections with a tense smile, so I place my order while he takes out his wallet.
“Aren’t you having any?” I ask.
“Not now, maybe later,” he responds, not cluing me in at all. I shrug and accept the paper dish of chocolate amaretto ice cream smothered in chocolate sauce and flaked almonds. Professor Malone holds the door open for me and we walk across to the park. Apparently, he had a bench already picked out because he leads me straight there. I sit and dig in before it melts too much. It’s not hot out, but it’s warm and sunny enough not to leave ice cream unattended even with a gorgeous man inches away.
The professor sits with his arms braced on his knees, staring at his hands. “Did you know I’ve been teaching at Bayview for fifteen years?” he asks without turning his head to look at me.
“No, but then I haven’t really thought about it,” I confess wryly.
He smiles slightly, still not looking at me. “And in all those years, I never once felt attracted to a student until this young woman sat down in the second row of the classroom, looking nervous and excited.”