Page 10 of Forgotten Deeds

His lips curl into a predatory smile. “You want me to keep your little secret, I’ll need something in return.”

“What?” I say in shock, refusing to believe this is happening.

“Extras. Isn’t that what you girls call them?” His eyes travel to my tits, lingering there.

“I need to go,” I whisper, swallowing down bile.

“Of course.” He gives me a patronizing smile when his eyes meet mine. “Just let me know what you decide. Admission letters go out next week. Plus, your essay for my class is due soon, and of course finals are fast-approaching,” he says, the threat lingering heavily in the air.

Nodding, I stand with shaky legs, somehow making it to the door.

“I wouldn’t sit on my offer too long, Pearl,” he calls after me as I dart out of his office.

Chapter Five

Lily

Sprinting down the hall and out the building, I don’t stop to catch my breath until I’m behind the wheel of my car. “Fuck!” I pull out of the garage, swiping angrily at the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. There was always a small chance a classmate would be at the club when I was dancing; but I fly under the radar at school, to where I thought no one would put two and two together. It never crossed my mind it would be a professor, and he’d use the information to blackmail me.

Driving aimlessly, I find myself in front of my favorite coffee shop, so I pull into the parking lot. Caffeine and sugar won’t magically solve this problem, but it can’t hurt.

Stepping inside, I place my order and snag a table in the back, mentally working through all the possible scenarios. It’s too late in the semester to drop Professor Miller’s class, so that’s not even an option. I could report him, but it would be my word against a respected, senior professor.

I could go back to his office to “discuss” his offer, this time recording him on my phone; then I could file a complaint with proof he’s a scumbag. Good plan, except that would only ensure my status as an exotic dancer comes to light. Sure it’s not illegal, but Professor Miller was right about one thing—we don’t live in an ideal world. I’d be judged, best-case scenario; worst-case scenario, I’d be passed over the graduate program because of my “extracurriculars.”

Providing “extras” to his slimy ass isn’t an option…but then what option does that leave me with?

Frustrated, I pull out my notebook and turn my attention to my essay. As Professor Miller so aptly pointed out, it’s due soon. I’m focusing on Amekhania—the Greek Goddess of helplessness—with the overarching theme of oppression of women figures in Greek mythology. The irony isn’t lost on me.

“Lily,” a young barista appears, holding a plate with my amaretti cookies and espresso.

“Yes, thank you.”

She sits the plate down, but doesn’t leave. “Hi, I’m Valentina.” She smiles brightly. “You come in here quite a bit; I thought I’d introduce myself.”

“Hi, Valentina. It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her.

“You a college student?” she asks, eyeing my notebook.

“Yes. Undergrad. Hopefully a grad student next semester.” Saying the last part has my stomach churning.

“Congrats. What major?”

“Classical studies with a minor in Greek mythology.”

“Wow. Um, that sounds really boring. No offense,” she quickly amends.

“None taken,” I say with a little laugh. “How about you?”

“I’m about to graduate high school. But the exciting news is I’m starting my own event planning company! If you’re even thinking of getting married, I’m your planner,” she says excitedly. “Sorry, I can’t help but work in a business pitch with everyone I meet now!”

“No chance of me getting married anytime soon,” I warn her, “but good luck with your company.”

“Thanks! Well, I better get back to work. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I call after her.

Spending a few hours working on my essay, I pack up my things and make the drive to Glitter.

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