Page 10 of Falling for Carla

“Nothing. And it’s my privilege to teach them that they’re nothing special. Dumb rich boys are a dime a dozen. Although I don’t think I’m supposed to say that out loud to them,” Rick said.

“I could double-check the faculty handbook to be sure, but I have a hunch that we’re not supposed to call names or discriminate against any students based on their background.”

“Whiny-ass little boys who have never experienced a real consequence,” he grumbled and took a drink of his beer. I chuckled.

“So what you’re telling me is that I have it easy this semester,” I said, “all I had was a student wait around after class to tell me I was full of shit.”

“Only one? Your teaching skills must be getting better,” he said, roasting me as usual.

“Yeah, just one. Although her dad could have me fitted with concrete galoshes, as they used to say in Jimmy Cagney movies.”

“He in the Mob?”

“No, he sells really heavy shoes, Rick,” I deadpanned. “Yeah. You could say he is the Mob on the East Coast.”

“Damn.”

“Exactly.”

“And his little girl thinks you’re full of it. You may need to watch your back, bro,” he laughed.

“I don’t think she goes home for Christmas, if you know what I mean. She’s nothing like daddy’s little princess.”

“You sure about that?” he questioned.

“Yeah. She wouldn’t be out here trying to get into the academy if she had anything to do with that life.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’d hate to wake up to a headline that you went missing because you got on her nerves,” he said.

“Your concern is so touching,” I said, rolling my eyes and taking a bite of my burger just in time to see Rick’s head swivel all the way to watch a leggy blonde walk by.

When he was done staring after her, Rick gaped at me.

“What?” I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin, “something on my face?”

“She was giving you the eye and you barely paid any attention to her. You didn’t even stop chewing,” he marveled, “are you feeling alright, man?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Don’t even start to tell me she’s not your type. She’s everyone’s type. A couple bi-curious girls just turned full lesbian when she walked by.”

“I’m hungry man, just eating my dinner.”

“I never knew you to ignore a woman that looked like that one. I can tell you one thing. If she had looked at me like that I sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting here with you,” Rick said.

“Thanks,” I told him.

The truth was that I was preoccupied with Carla Russo. With everything that was strong and determined and vulnerable about her that I couldn’t get out of my head. Her aggravating sass that made me more intrigued than annoyed.

I steered the conversation back to a committee we were both on, and Rick was off and running with his impression of the stodgy old guy who served as chairman. He was funny, but my mind kept straying back to a certain former Brooklynite who wanted to be a cop.

When I got home, there was no denying why I felt so restless and distracted all evening. I had been thinking of her the entire time. A woman who could’ve spent her life in a penthouse, dressed in designer clothes and taken exotic vacations and never bothered to step out of line to help anyone else.

Instead, she’d struck out on her own and was determined to do the opposite of what was expected of her given her station in life. I admired the hell out of that, her grit and her fire. Her smart mouth that I could put to better use if things were different. I groaned at the thought and gave in.

I’d been fighting the attraction for weeks. I’d shaken myself awake from steamy dreams where she and I were trapped in a storeroom together or ran into each other in the library late one night. My dreams made up for lack of realism with a lot of specific sexual detail though. My resistance was down because I was weary after a long week of class and of fighting off this infuriating attraction for her. I stretched out on my king-sized bed and unzipped my jeans. Then I let myself go.

‘You can call me Drake,’ I told her.

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