Honor Roll

by Collins, Kelly

  I announced myself to the prune-faced secretary: “Sandra Tierney to see Dean Hollings.” She dropped the pen from her thin, gnarled fingers. Fingers she no doubt worked to the bone day in and day out. She’d typed the fat pads right off them, leaving bony tips that looked like unsharpened pencil nubs.

  The nameplate on her desk said, Greta. An old-fashioned name. The woman stood, her back so hunched over, I was certain she’d been born at the turn of the century. Her soft-soled shoes squished across the floor until she came to a squeaky stop in front of Dean Hollings’s door. She tapped twice and opened it.

  “Ms. Tierney is here to see you,” she said with a slight tremor in her voice.

  Was it fear or old age that made her words tremble? Dean Hollings didn’t strike me as a man to fear. He was a man to revere. He ran an elite university that educated some of the greatest minds in the world.

  “Send her in.”

  The deep tenor of his voice pushed a ripple of something up my spine. Maybe he could instill fear. I wanted to believe I could be the one to intimidate—that I could take charge of any situation—that I would be more than a secretary or a waitress. I wanted to be a woman who ruled her world, but as much as it bothered me, I needed the help of a man to get me there.

  “Close the door, please,” he said without raising his head. He shuffled through a few pages on his desk, then looked up at me. “Come here.”

  My heels clicked out a staccato rhythm across the tile. With my head held high, I marched to his desk. I didn’t balk at his demand. I did what I was told. The dean didn’t come across as a man I should question.

  Younger than most men in his position, he didn’t get there by not hunting down what he wanted. If he wanted me at his desk, I’d be there. I looked at his dark hair and stared into his whiskey-colored gaze. He was easy on the eyes, successful and sexy all rolled into one.

  He rose to his feet and pointed to the leather sofa against the wall. I walked to the sofa and smoothed my black pencil skirt over my thighs. I adjusted the side slit so only a peek of my bare skin showed when I took a seat. At first, I tucked my legs to the side, which was the most ladylike way to sit. But then I crossed one leg over the other because it made me feel more feminine, and I noticed how his eyes lingered from the slit of my skirt to my calves.

  His height and width loomed over me like a dark cloud, hardly the way I wanted to start this interview. “Are you going to stand?” I asked.

  He narrowed his eyes and looked between the couch and me like he was at war with himself. The leather cushion won.

  Air rushed up as the cushion compressed under his weight, catching the smell of his cologne and spreading it like an atomizer through the air.

  This man wasn’t Old Spice or dime-store cologne. He was old money. It showed from his argyle socks to his silk tie.

  “What can you do for me, Ms. Tierney?”

  I loved the way he said my name—the hard T followed by a whisper of the rest.

  My heart skipped a beat, and my nerve faltered. I had no idea what I could offer him. All I knew was that I’d gotten in the door after thirty-eight attempts.

  Takes a licking and keeps on ticking.

  “I’m in trouble, Dean Hollings.” I’d never been a weak woman, but I thought I’d play the damsel-in-distress card first. “I’m one year away from graduating with my business degree, and I fear I can’t afford to finish.” I tried to summon a tear, but I wasn’t a skilled thespian, so I rubbed at the corner of my dry eye for effect, hoping to play on his sympathies.

  He kept looking at my legs and licking his lips. “You need this job.”

  My sigh lifted and sank my shoulders. Damsel in distress and sympathy weren’t working. It was time to stroke his ego. “You’re the most powerful man on campus.” I lowered my head and let my hair curtain my face. “I thought maybe…”

  He slid forward and pushed the strands behind my ear. “You thought what, Ms. Tierney?”

  I licked at my red apple lip gloss. His eyes followed the tip of my tongue. “I thought I’d be a good fit for your summer position. I need a job, and you need an intern.”

  He sat back and raised both brows so high, they disappeared under the fringe of his dark brown bangs.

  “Intern?” He shifted on the cushion until he faced me. “I was thinking more of a temporary hire. Bringing you in as an intern implies I’d be your mentor.” His knee brushed against my thigh. “What experience can you bring to the position?” He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and rolled it back and forth.

  “I’m responsible, motivated, and a quick learner.”

  “Do you have experience?” The way he asked made me think he was asking about more than my typing and shorthand skills.

  “I can take notes and type and answer phones. What I don’t know, I’ll learn. I aim to please.” The last time I’d needed something fiercely, I’d slept with a man for a used car and a semester of paid tuition. “I really need this job. I’m desperate.” The words had a breathy Marilyn Monroe wispiness to them I didn’t recognize, but I sure welcomed it.

  “Desperate can be dangerous.” His eyes went to the closed door. “Where’s your family?”

  “I’m an only child, and my mom lives up north.” To be more accurate, she lived at a nudist colony. She couldn’t help me. She had less than I did. She would have loved for me to stay with her, but I had bigger dreams than organic gardening and free love.

  “I was an only child, too.” He pulled at his tie and leaned back, gaining distance from me, but his eyes never left my face.

  “I grew up with a lot of other kids around.”

  Living in a place where everyone slept with everyone produced a lot of children. Mom was protective and kept the men away from me until I turned seventeen, the age of consent. After that, I was allowed to choose for myself. Little did she know, I’d been having sex since I was sixteen with Daniel Ockey, a boy I walked to school with each day. You couldn’t live in a nudist colony with hundreds of wagging dicks around and not be curious. We fed our curiosity every day after school behind the barn.

  “So what you’re telling me is, you know how to play nice in the sandbox.”

  “I can play nice when I have to.” I uncrossed my legs and watched him watch me. “I’ll do what I have to in order to get what I want.”

  “What is it you want?”

  “I want it all, Dean Hollings. Every inch of everything life can offer me.” I leaned back and looked at him.

  His amber eyes had turned to dark chocolate. A bead of sweat formed on his brow. “Can I call you Sandra?”

  “Of course.” He could call me anything as long as he hired me.

  “I have another interview today following this one. The person I select has to be open-minded and available.”

  I placed my hand on his leg. “Please choose me,” I whispered. My fingers skated across his slacks until my hand dropped from his knee.

  He cleared his throat and looked at his watch. “Sandra, I—” He glanced at the door and then at me.

  My time was finished, clearly. “I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time, Dean Hollings.” I gathered my purse and walked to his desk. “I’ll leave my phone number just in case you have more questions. I’m positive I could be an asset to you over the summer.” I scribbled my number on a piece of his stationery. “I’m good at typing and oral …” I let it hang there for a minute while I finished writing the last two digits of my phone number, “… dictation,” I finished.

  I walked to the door, turned around, and smiled. “See you soon.” I closed the door behind me.

  Someone once said that when a man was attracted to a woman, she became his weakness. I had never fully considered the power of being a woman—until recently. A man with the right appetite could provide a girl with what she wanted. All she needed was the drive to pursue what she desired and the balls to take it.

  I didn’t wake up and think, I’ll seduce the dean for a job. It seemed to happen wi
thout thought, although in hindsight he did seem taken with me during my sit in.

  When he swept my hair back, I realized it wasn’t the touch of a concerned administrator. It was the touch of a would-be lover.

  Mom always told me the key to influencing men was to keep them coming back for more. She bartered for things like orgasms. The stakes were higher for me: I needed a job, but a quiver in my girly bits would be a nice bonus. Or maybe I could negotiate for a scholarship. That was a thought. A pleasant one. Lord knew I’d given more for less.

  Well, I’d planted the seed, and now it was time to leave. It would work or not. Either way, I was no worse off than when I came in. I’d leave here a girl up to her neck in debt with one year of college to complete—exactly as I entered. Or maybe I’d get a call that said, “Let’s barter.”

  “How did it go?” Greta asked with a hopeful expression.

  I let out a little giggle and looked over my shoulder at the dean who was adjusting his trousers. “It’s hard … to say.”

  Do you need more of Making the Grade?

  Making the Grade Series

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  Honor Roll

  The Learning Curve

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  Acknowledgments

  I was humbled by the number of people who fell in love with The Dean’s List. I had intended for the book to be a stand-alone, but after countless emails asking for more, I knew that Luca’s story had to be told.

  As always, I am grateful for the fans that read, review, and spread the word. It takes a village to raise an author.

  Jodi Henley, this book would have been less without your editing skills. Thank you!

  Big thanks to Michele Catalano Creative for making such an awesome cover.

  Love and hugs to my family who are always there to lend an ear or offer advice.

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  About the Author

  International bestselling author of more than thirty novels, Kelly Collins writes with the intention of keeping the love alive. Always a romantic, she blends real-life events with her vivid imagination to create characters and stories that lovers of contemporary romance, new adult, and romantic suspense will return to again and again.

  Kelly lives in Colorado at the base of the Rocky Mountains with her husband of twenty-seven years, their two dogs, and a bird that hates her. She has three amazing children, whom she loves to pieces.

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