by Lia Lee
“Hawthorne. My twin brother. The little ones are Basil and Briar.”
“Your parents liked nature?”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “In theory, maybe. As a theme. They really aren’t that interested in the environment or even hiking. But I tell Mom that it’s her fault I’m an activist because she named me after a shrub.”
“So they aren’t as interested in social justice and charity as you are?”
“God, no. It’s lucky I have an academic scholarship. I’ve been working all around the university since the day I stepped on the campus.” Hazel shook her head. “But they’re lucky because Hawk didn’t even bother with a real university. He took some classes at a community college and then bailed for a coding boot camp.”
“That’s not a terrible idea. A lot of IT jobs prefer applicants that have just come from boot camps to those who spent time at a university. Tech changes so fast that a four-year degree can mean they learned last year’s code.”
“It would be a good idea, if he had a job. Instead, he lives at home and wants to make video games.” Hazel wiped her mouth and shrugged. “And even that would be okay, if he could ever finish one. It’s easier than ever to get your own indie stuff out there. He could do it if he ever had the motivation.”
Ian nodded slowly and watched her face. She seemed disappointed, and a bit frustrated.
“I can’t say that I have similar experiences,” Ian said. “I’m an only child.”
“Not a thing in my family.” Hazel chuckled. “Even my mom has a twin sister.”
“I was always jealous of other children who had siblings, of course. But I was able to spend more time with my father. He and I were close. He brought me along to his business quite often.”
Hazel set her plate down. “Is that how you got your start?”
“Absolutely. I talk about it in my first memoir Little Man, Big Deal. He gave me a small loan when we sold the old business, which started out as a transactional holdings company…” Ian trailed off. “You don’t care about any of this, do you?”
“It’s not that I don’t care.” Hazel bit her lower lip. “I read it, actually. I have Kindle Unlimited and looked at it over the weekend.”
“You read it in a weekend?” Ian narrowed his eyes.
“I read fast. I also read the two business books of yours available at Barns and Noble while drinking a latte on Sunday.” Hazel shrugged. “They weren’t difficult reads, though, so it’s not as impressive as it sounds.”
Ian frowned. “I’m not sure how I should feel about that.”
“I dunno. I guess you should feel glad? It means your ghostwriter is making everything very clear. I don’t think they have the amount of complexity and detail you can give face-to-face, but if they did, I doubt they’d be bestsellers.” Hazel crossed her legs toward Ian. “That’s the struggle real academics face, anyway. They can make things so much more nuanced, but then it’s harder to read, and people won’t slow down to get the point. Unless they’re academics, too, which substantially narrows your reach as an author.”
“I was prepared to be offended when you said I wasn’t a real academic, but I think you do have a good point. We always sell well, but they don’t always gain the critical reception that we hope for. Let me get my tablet, and we’ll go over the basics of this book project.” Ian rose and fetched both his and her tablets. “It’s a good thing you read fast.”
“I’m not sure my course load would be feasible if I didn’t.” Hazel took her tablet from him and began swiping rapidly.
Ian watched her for a moment before bringing up the early planning documents for the upcoming book. When he’d offered her the co-authorship, he hadn’t counted on her having a critical perspective on how he might improve his books. She was more than he’d bargained for, and he was loving it.
***
Hazel walked out of the Cartwright & Benton building with her head full. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but what she’d gotten was a morning so packed with information that she was going to have to take some time to decompress. Unfortunately, she had to get to her second job at the grocery store in fifteen minutes.
She unpinned her hair at the lights so she could pull it into a standard ponytail. It wasn’t good to be too dressed up at the store. They had a few regulars (usually men older than Dr. Cartwright) who took any form of politeness as a come-on, and she didn’t want to encourage their weirdness any further.
While Hazel restocked produce, she ran over the areas she would need to research in her head. Since she would be on campus tomorrow, she could spend her time at the library getting started. Students sometimes came by her desk for directions, but they didn’t usually need that much help—since a lot of students just looked for sources through the online databases these days. To be honest, she loved searching for sources. It was the beginning of every project for school and every self-improvement effort she came up with on her own. The spirit of finding things out had always driven Hazel. When she was a kid, she’d take home school library projects so she could go to the real library and write a better report.
But one couldn’t just research for a living. Hazel wasn’t good enough at the sciences to really make a difference there, and sitting around in a library didn’t pay the bills or change the world. She got so overwhelmed sometimes, but she had to remain focused.
By the time she got off around 10:00 pm, Hazel felt both exhausted and wired. With so much bouncing around in her head, and a full day of jobs, she knew she could fall right into bed and be asleep before she pulled up her blanket. Unfortunately, her Poli-Sci professor had emailed them a new reading that day. She climbed up to her apartment, fumbled with her keys, and dragged herself into the messy living room and fell onto the couch. She pulled out her tablet to open up the reading.
Why couldn’t her professors be more on the ball? Hazel blinked sleepily. She was so tired. She’d been up since 6:00 am. She also hadn’t eaten since that salad amazing salad with Dr. Cartwright.
“God, I’m hungry. But I don’t want to get up.” Hazel sighed and dropped her head against the armrest. She closed her eyes for a moment.
“You’re so well-versed in the genre,” Cartwright’s voice had said warmly.
Hazel ought to be beyond this. Her exhaustion was no match for the feeling of excitement and pride inside of her. It was so much better getting along with Cartwright, earning his praise, and showing him how capable she could be. It left her feeling like she could do anything.
Distracted now, Hazel got onto the library website and started looking up what the library had on industrial and organizational psychology. If she could get Cartwright a good annotated bibliography on this aspect of business mentorship (which he would definitely find too boring to look up), they could be talking about how the research matched his years of experience by next week.
Chapter Five
Hazel’s head bowed diligently over her new laptop. She’d been working with Cartwright for almost a month now, burning the candle at both ends to put in her best effort in her classes and at the assistantship, but there had been a clear winner for her attention. Every week, in addition to shadowing Cartwright in his business meetings (or watching, in the case of video conferences) they sat down to discuss the book.
These sessions were the most invigorating part of her week. The way Cartwright spoke when he came up with a new idea… The look on his face as he listened, intently, to her research… She didn’t even mind when the meetings ran over, or that sometimes he asked her to come with him after class to keep talking about the book.
Oh, they still argued during class, but it was different. Hazel found herself smiling when he said something she disagreed with, and she could see the expression on his face when he knew she was going to challenge him. Her hands still shook, and her heart still pounded, but now, she didn’t mind it. She knew that after class, and after their squabbles, they would be going out to dinner to talk in-depth about her research and his experience, and h
ow they could bring both of these together most productively.
“How is it going over here?” Cartwright leaned over her shoulder.
“I think I have the outlines for each chapter down. I’ll upload to our drive so you can look over them when you have a minute. That way, I can work on each chapter as we finish our content discussions for that section. Oh.” Hazel clicked save and looked back at Cartwright. “I also finished the introductory chapter. We’ll have to edit it after the book is finished, but it’ll be a good, solid anchor for us as we proceed.”
“Right. And I have the preface done, if you would like to look over it.”
Hazel smiled, feeling her cheeks growing pink. She couldn’t help but love how he was asking for her approval on something. Of course, it would be nearly perfect. The parts of each book that had come out under his name, that were beyond reproach, had been the prefaces he wrote for each and the personal anecdotes that illustrated his business principles.
“I’ll get to it tomorrow,” she replied.
“I wondered if you wanted to come out with me to the club? You can see an out of office business meeting in person.”
“Is this alright for the club?” Hazel looked down at her outfit—another crisp pantsuit.
“It’s fine. The heels might be a bit tricky on the course, but we can get you something appropriate.”
Hazel nodded and began to pack away her notes. Cartwright put a hand on her shoulder.
“If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to. I don’t want anything to make you uncomfortable. And I do know that you have other classes.”
Hazel stilled; she couldn’t help but enjoy the firm warmth of his touch. “No, I want to be there. I don’t work tonight.”
“Excellent. I’ll have Vicki get you some shoes.”
***
In addition to the shoes, Ian acquired a burgundy golf hat for Hazel. He placed it on her head before they entered the club and smiled down at her. She looked adorable, so excited to be a part of this, even if she had complained a bit on the way that doing business deals on the golf course systemically excluded others from being a part of the conversation.
“Where would you suggest we hold out of office meetings? At a nail salon?” Ian asked.
“Why do you need to do business out of the office? Doesn’t that open you up to a host of problems?” Hazel countered.
And so on. He would have picked the conversation back up, but Jenkins and Huang were already in the lobby, so he approached them and introduced both to Hazel as his associate and co-author. Hazel, as always, blushed a little at the attention, but she kept up her part of the conversation. As they made their way out to the course, it occurred to him that she was speaking up much more than he’d expected. In the actual office, she spoke to him, and to assistants and other low-ranking employees, but she hesitated around the conference table.
“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.”
