by Ella Brooke
“I think I discovered why meeting out of the office is necessary,” Ian whispered to her as Jenkins and Huang chatted about their children.
“Oh?”
“Some people are just more relaxed in a social setting. It allows all parties to open up more than they might otherwise.”
“Yeah, but only if they can get access.”
“Then I suppose the fight is not to keep people from golfing but to make sure as many people as possible can get access.”
She tilted her head back, curious, like a little bird, and looked at him with a slow blink. “Do you really believe that?”
“It seems like the most logical conclusion to our conflict.” Ian touched her back and guided her down the course. She stiffened, slightly, and he moved his hand. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. It’s just…” Hazel swallowed. “It’s nothing. I appreciate being here. I’ve learned so much.”
“I’m pleased. And I think you’ve brought something to this book project that I never would have gotten from my other writers, unfortunately. Not that they couldn’t do it, but they wouldn’t think to ask, and neither would I.” Ian paused, letting Jenkins and Huang walk ahead of them. “I’d like for you to continue to work for me after this semester. I believe we’d both get a great deal out of it.”
“I mean, I’d love to, but I have to do my Capstone Internship next semester. I don’t know that I’ll have time to do both on top of finishing my coursework.”
Ian rolled his eyes. “You could do your internship with me.”
“No, I can’t.” Hazel shook her head and laughed softly. “It’s for the Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies major, and it has to have something to do with a program that benefits the community in some way.”
“Women work at my company,” he suggested. “You could do your analysis of how women feel about working for Cartwright & Benton.”
Hazel lowered her head and covered her mouth. He looked down at her with a frown.
“Do you find that amusing?”
“You don’t want me to analyze how women at your company feel about their jobs.”
“Why not?”
Hazel sighed and crossed her arms. “You have quite the history of scandal, Dr. Cartwright. Do you really want me asking questions about your employees and stirring things up?”
“Do you really think I harass my employees? I have certainly dated plenty of women, and I have had—” Ian paused to cringe. “Two failed marriages. But I don’t come on to my employees.”
“You don’t? Not ever?”
Ian raised a brow. What was she insinuating? Did she know how attracted he was to her? She didn’t act as though she did, most of the time.
“If you don’t want to work for me after this semester, simply say so, Hazel.”
“I do. I just have to work for the Atlanta Area Women’s Center. I already turned in my Capstone proposal.” Hazel bumped her shoulder against Ian’s. “Don’t be mad. I like this job. I just want to graduate, too.”
“Hm.” Ian fixed a glare on her, but then looked away and started walking again. “Maybe we can work something out. I don’t think the book will be finished by the end of the semester. You have midterms now, and finals of course.”
Hazel groaned. “No, I do. I have an Intersectionalities paper due on Friday.”
“Then why in the world are you here with me?”
Hazel shrugged and tugged on the front of her hat. “The happening club wear?”
Ian scoffed. He caught up to Jenkins and Huang, who were looking back at them curiously.
“If you’ll pardon us, my associate needs to get going,” he told them.
“What?” Hazel objected.
“Go write your paper, or I’ll fire you,” Ian said. He was only half teasing.
Hazel rolled her eyes. “I have the research done already.”
“Of course you do, you little speed-reader. Just go. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
“Fine.” Hazel stepped towards Jenkins and Huang to shake their hands. “It was good to meet you. Keep this one on his toes, won’t you?”
“We definitely will,” Huang said.
She walked back down the path, hurrying just a little.
“Nice,” Jenkins said.
“What?” Ian clenched his fist. “What did you say?”
“She’s something,” Jenkins added. He folded his hands on top of his golf club and shook his head. “Wish I could have a sweet thing like her following me around every day. And she’s in your class, too? Boss and teacher. I bet she’d do anything you wanted.”
“She argues with me constantly,” Ian objected. “Hazel isn’t the type of girl to do anything she doesn’t want to do. And I won’t have you insinuating that she’s the type of girl who would do something inappropriate just to get ahead.”
“No, no,” Huang said. “I think it’s just that she seems to admire you a good deal. As for what she wants…” He walked over to the tee. “Who could say. I bet she knows how to take it, if you know what I mean?”
Ian did know. And while he was fairly good at taking what he wanted as well, he’d always been very cautious not to let himself want things he couldn’t have. He had a reputation, yes, but he had never been one to take advantage. He’d lured Hazel into his web, but couldn’t bear to bring any harm to her. His hands longed to hold her, his lips to touch hers, but she was still his student. Her admiration meant everything to him, and he wouldn’t lose it for a wild night, no matter what.
***
Hazel returned home from the library to the sight of Natalie on the sofa with Hawk, who had his feet up on their coffee table.
“Hello, twin,” he said, stretching his arms over his head.
“Hi, twin. What’s up?” Hazel dropped her bag by the table and flopped down next to him.
“Mom says she can’t get a hold of you.” He scratched his hair. “Everyone thinks you’re dead.”
“I’m not dead. I’m working. I can tell why she’d mistake that for deadness, since she’s never seen it happen in any of her other children,” Hazel drawled.
“Oh, my God.” Natalie whistled. “Ouch.”
“I work. I take care of the house,” Hawk argued. “Anyway, can you call her before she buries herself in passive aggression, or whatever?”
“I’ll call tomorrow. I’m too tired right now.” Hazel rested her head on Hawk’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in forever either.”
“Fast life in the coding world. I’m still trying to sign on a writer.”
“What about the artist?”
Hawk shrugged and snatched the remote from Natalie. “Artists are easier to get. And cheaper. They’ll do extra work just to get better exposure.”
“That’s awful. People should be paid what they’re worth, even if—”
“Dammit, Hawk, why do you have to get her started?” Natalie groaned and glared at Hazel. “Do you know what an awful day I’ve had? Give it a rest, Mother Teresa!”
“Whatever.” Hazel closed her eyes. “I’m going to nap now. I’ve written so much this week I think I’ve induced some kind of hyper-aggressive carpal tunnel.”
“Just wait,” Natalie said with false cheer. “Midterms next week.”
Hazel curled her knees up to her chest and moaned. “Nooo, I’m dying this week, so I don’t have to do it.”
“See?” Hawk said, rubbing Hazel’s shoulders. “This is why you college nerds are dumb, and I’m a genius.”
“Get a job, Genius,” Hazel shot back.
Logically, rationally, Hazel knew she should cut back on her time with Dr. Cartwright. They’d done enough planning on the book that she could write independently most of the week… but that would mean less time listening to Cartwright’s stories, less time basking in his admiration, less time with her heart racing from his casual touches. Obviously, the same man who had appeared on the weekly tabloids for years, enjoying affairs with models, actresses and socialites in every country
he visited, could never really be interested in plain Hazel Greenwood—try-hard and annoying social activist.
The only thing she had going for her was the scholarly backing she could offer his book. Otherwise, she was just another girl following him. Just another woman who he could use and discard, if he so chose. He hadn’t chosen to do so, however. Cartwright had made it very clear that not only wasn’t he interested, but he wouldn’t think of having a relationship with an inferior.
Perhaps, it was for the best, but it made her heart ache.
Chapter Six
“Sir?” Vicki poked her head into Ian’s office.
He was reclining in his massage chair as he looked over a progress report for this branch. “Yes, Vicki?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I know you wanted the afternoon to yourself, but your ex-wife is here, and you remember what happened the last time she didn’t get what she wanted—”
“I remember.” Ian turned in the chair and dropped the papers on his desk. He didn’t have to ask which one it was. His first wife was in Europe and tried to never be in the same room with him, if she could help it. The feeling was mutual, after all of the baggage they had between them. “Send her in. I want to get rid of her before Hazel shows up.”
Vicki nodded and slipped out again. Ian straightened up his papers and went to stand by the windows.
“Darling!”
“Meryl.” Ian half-turned and raised a brow. Meryl had nuked her hair at the salon recently. That color of red didn’t exist in nature. Neither did breasts like those, but he’d been all too aware of that during their marriage. “You’re looking prosperous. To what do I owe this visit?”
“Partially because you’ve answered not one of my letters.” Meryl brushed a bit of white fluff off of her suit jacket and walked over to take a seat by the coffee table.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Oh, I’ve heard! Ian Cartwright, cozy old professor, now? How you’ve changed.” She crossed her legs and leaned back.
With a sigh, Ian walked over to her. It was one of her common tricks—forcing you to come to her, even when she was the one asking for something. He had to admit, though, even if they hadn’t worked together romantically, they’d been quite aligned when it came to business philosophy.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m representing a group that is looking to strengthen laws against sexual assault and sex trafficking. I know philanthropy isn’t really part of your business plan, beyond yearly donations for tax breaks…” Meryl waved a hand in the air. “But I thought, ‘Ian’s big into the PR thing right now, offering up his services to help tutor a bunch of budding entrepreneurs. Maybe he’d be interested in helping us make some connections’.”
“That was never part of your plans either,” Ian pointed out.
“It isn’t, but my fiancé is involved, through his business, and they hired me for my legal expertise. So, are you interested? It’s a win-win for you, honestly. No one is going to look poorly on a man who supports legislation protecting against sex crimes, except maybe some politicians and priests. And it isn’t like they’re on your board of trustees in any case.”
Ian pressed his lips into a line. It was harsh but amusing, and that was Meryl all over. They’d known one another in school, for a time, before he’d made his career, and then married and divorced his first wife in an explosion of mutual emotional trauma after her miscarriage. Meryl had come into the picture afterward, a corporate lawyer with equal amounts of confidence and ruthlessness. No one would ever catch her blushing.
Ian took a seat. “Tell me more about what my involvement would be.”
Nearly an hour later, the doors to his office opened again, and there was Hazel. Both Ian and Meryl looked up to see her burdened with her laptop bag, messenger bag, and a third bag of notes. She wore her work clothes, but her hair was a loose mess, and she’d forgotten to change her Converses for heels. Ian nearly burst out in laughter, but Hazel looked so startled to see Meryl there that he held off.
“Meryl, this is my assistant and the young woman helping me with my next book.” Ian rose and took two of Hazel’s bags from her. “Hazel Greenwood. And Hazel, this is my ex-wife—”
“Meryl Davenport,” Hazel said.
“Oh, you’ve heard of me.” Meryl laughed. “Good things, I hope.” She winked at Ian.
“We covered one of your cases this semester in my Poli-Sci class. Elder vs. Conway.” Hazel looked up at Ian uncertainly for a moment before setting her laptop on the coffee table.
“Ah, yes. That was tricky. How did the class take that?”
“Explosively.”
“Sounds a lot more interesting than my political science courses.” Meryl smirked.
“Hazel is getting one of her majors in Nonprofit Management,” Ian explained. “Her peers are excitable, to say the least. I wish I had half their energy.”
“Yes, I’m sure you can barely keep up with this girl.” Meryl ran her eyes over Hazel. “Don’t wear the old man out.”
“Oh, I am not that old,” Ian protested. “Lester is older than I am.”
“Lester is my husband,” Meryl said, answering Hazel’s curious expression. “And at forty, he’s only three years older than Ian.”
Hazel looked incredibly uncomfortable. Ian took the seat next to hers.
“We were just talking about the organization that Meryl works for, and if it would be possible for Cartwright & Benton to partner with them.” Ian nodded to Meryl. “Could you give her the details?”
The tension dissipated a little after that. Hazel was focused on asking questions about exactly what Cartwright & Benton would be offering, and if there was anything else they could do. A few minutes into the conversation, and he’d realized that Meryl had captured all of Hazel’s attention and the two ladies were taking this away from him. Given that Hazel had fixed a laser-like focus on the problem, Ian wasn’t about to disrupt them. It would probably bode well for Hazel if she could get along with Meryl, anyway.
All said and done, his ex-wife had managed to take up most of his morning before she left, promising to send paperwork his way. She pulled him into a hug before she left, and when she did, it was like the room filled with air again.
“Oh, shit,” Hazel said suddenly.
“What?” Ian turned his head. She was staring at her feet.
“I forgot to change my shoes.”
“Don’t worry about that now.” Ian returned to his desk.
Hazel picked up her messenger bag, dug around in it, and pulled out a hairbrush. “I look like I just woke up.”
“Not possible, since I’ve seen you contending with a corporate lawyer for the better part of two hours.”
Hazel made a face.
“What’s wrong? It isn’t like you to be late, or for you to come to work like this.” Ian leaned back.
“It’s just midterms. My Poli-Sci exam is tomorrow, and Intersectionalities is on Wednesday. My grant writing class has a big paper due on Thursday, too. It’s twenty percent of our grade. I’ve got it mostly written, but I have all these small details to check out, and the professor is really picky.” Hazel pulled her hair up and twisted the hair around into a makeshift bun.
“This is why I don’t miss college,” Ian teased. “And you want to go to grad school.”
“I love college. I hate tests. Thank God you aren’t having us do midterms.”
“I don’t like to grade. And I think it’s useless for a practicum in any case.”
“Yeah, I’ve had more than my share of exams from the Business Department.” Hazel brushed her hands over her hair and sighed. “Are you going to take Ms. Davenport’s offer?”
“I’m thinking about it. Cartwright & Benton has never had a strong philanthropic arm before.” He shrugged. “But at the very least, I can help her with making the contacts they need.”
Hazel seemed pleased. “Good. I’m glad.”
“You’re too kind for your own good.” Ian went to her
and touched her hair. “You’ve given me some time for the day. I think you ought to go study.”
“I can finish the day,” Hazel protested. “I took the week off at the grocery store, so I would have extra time for my finals.”
Ian looked into her eyes—so open, so vulnerable and eager to please. He suspected it wasn’t just a good work ethic that made her want to stay.
“As you wish. I’m going to call my main office for a conference about Meryl’s offer. You can listen in, or you can work on the book.” Ian returned to his seat. Then, he paused to press the intercom button. “Vicki, could you bring the two of us some coffee and order us lunch from the Terra Café.”
“Right away, sir.”
Hazel grinned as she set up her laptop. She knew how he despised vegan food. There was really only one reason that he’d order it.
And that was to make her happy.
***
The week was only halfway over, and Hazel felt like she might die of exhaustion. On Monday night, she’d turned in her Grant Writing paper early, and then gone to a study group for Poli-Sci on Monday night and taken the exam the next morning. After that, she’d studied for Intersectionalities continuously, only stopping to show up for her class with Dr. Cartwright. She hadn’t slept that night. Not a wink. Then she’d returned to the school and studied until the exam itself.
The exam was held in the computer lab. Three hours, three essay questions. When Hazel read the exam questions, she thought her stomach might fall out onto the floor.
Somehow, after taking a long swig of her water, Hazel had buckled down and typed until the teacher told them to stop. She didn’t even take a bathroom break like some of the other students had. By the time she was finished, she was exhausted and starving, and her head still buzzed from all the caffeine she’d had over the past two days.
Trying to get her head together, Hazel sat and waited for the bus to take her to her parking lot and looked at the calendar on her phone. Was there anything she was forgetting? That was all of her classes, right?
