Lessons In Love: An Older Man, Younger Woman Romance

by Arlo Arrow

  “What the hell?!” I yelped.

  “Hush. I’m the dean and can get you anything you want done in this school. I’ve seen you around before, and usually, you’re so timid and mild-mannered. But now look at you. Showing your tits and ass.”

  I backed up and inched for the door. “And you don’t think I’m going to tell someone about this?” I said, my fists balling up. He got up and approached me like a slow avalanche. The pressure of the situation bore down on my chest and made my stomach feel rotted out.

  “Of course not. The worst that’ll happen is that I get to step down and keep my money, but you? You’ll risk losing your scholarship.”

  Now I wasn’t breathing. I ran out of his office and to the classroom. I stopped in front of it and stared.

  I was no longer in the mood for class. Or even school.

  Chapter 8

  George

  I counted each minute she was gone. One minute turned into two, and next thing I knew, the whole class had gone by and she hadn’t returned.

  Alison had a strange look on her face and seemed bothered ever since the dean took her away. I didn't like what I was putting together.

  "All right, I'll have your tests graded today and loaded into your student profiles this week. Have a good day."

  The students hurried to get to their next classes, but I stopped Alison on her way out.

  "Excuse me, Ms. Ward?"

  "Yeah? What's up, Professor Dent?"

  "I noticed you looked bothered during the lecture ever since the dean showed up. Is Ms. Winters in trouble?" I asked, keeping my professional way about me.

  "No, I just . . . I don't like the dean. Don't tell him I said that," Alison said, winking.

  "Where is the dean's office?" I asked.

  "Right down the hall on the right. It's not too far at all." Alison left, and I stashed everything in my briefcase so I could go find her.

  Before I could get out the door, Ms. Hawthorne peeped in and slipped inside when she saw that the coast was clear.

  "Ms. Hawthorne, I'm seriously busy. What can I do—"

  "I know what you're doing."

  "What?"

  She paced around me and my desk. "The girl, Cecilia Winters. The one who got back your precious marker."

  "What about her?" I folded my arms and kept my eyes on her. Ms. Hawthorne wasn't up to any damn good.

  This woman got on my nerves. When I received my money, I could already dream of having her fired. Her behavior was borderline obsessive.

  "You're sleeping with her."

  "Why? Because I don't want to touch or be around you?" I said with a swift cut of snark.

  She gritted her teeth and stomped one of her heels like an angry horse.

  "Ms. Hawthorne, goodbye—"

  "Not so fast. You go around her again, and I'll make sure you're fired. I saw her leave your place."

  I stopped with my hand on the doorknob.

  "Was that a threat?" I asked.

  "Yes, it was. Now be a man and get over here. My back hurts."

  I turned around and went up to her, sticking my finger point-blank between her eyes.

  "Threaten or bother her or me again, and I'll teach you the dictionary definition of dangerous."

  With that, I left the classroom, fuming with disgust.

  A threat? From her?

  Out of all the Dents in the family, I was the most dangerous one. That inheritance of mine was more than just money.

  I went down to the dean's office and knocked on his door. Knocking turned into pounding, yet he still didn't answer. I placed my ear on the door to make sure I didn't hear her in there.

  Cecilia wouldn't disappear like this. It was a risk, but I'd have to go to her dorm.

  I strode out to the parking lot when a familiar voice called out to me.

  "George! Over here, George!" It was my good friend and lawyer, Jeff Spikes.

  "Jeff, hello. I'm in bit of a hurry—"

  He waved his hand and looked down. "Don't even worry. I'm not gonna swallow up your time. Just here to tell you that I'm getting good progress reports. The judge is about ready to release it soon. Maybe even a week or two earlier," he boasted with his hands in his pockets.

  "Good, now if you'll excuse me," I said, going around him.

  "What's the rush? I know you to be laid back," Jeff said, following me to my car.

  "An emergency."

  "What emergency?"

  "Personal."

  "George, this is your friend right now, not the lawyer. What's going on?"

  I jogged up the stairs to the parking tower to get to my car.

  "It's really complicated, Jeff. I promise, I'll tell you soon. But I must go."

  He sighed and moved his mouth to the side in defeat. "Fine. Hope it works out for you."

  I turned on my car and sped toward the exit, looking for a sign of Cecilia.

  That dean . . . if he did anything to her, he'd pay. He'd pay dearly. I'd have his organs splayed across twelve countries. I'd have his family hunted down.

  Realizing I was going too fast, I slammed the brakes to my car when I got too close to the back of another person's car. People were looking, and I was thankful that my glass was tinted.

  Soon, I was at her dorm building, but I didn't have a particular door number to go to. So I grabbed one of my textbooks to make it look like I was here for a legit, non-relationship reason.

  Inside, the security woman asked for ID.

  "This is a girls-only dorm. You can't go beyond here."

  "I'm a teacher. My student left her book in class."

  I lifted it up to show her.

  The security woman grimaced. "You can leave it here and give me the name so I can—"

  "Never mind!" I said, turning on my heels. I busted through the doors and went back to my car to think.

  Fuck, I didn't even have a phone number. Did Ms. Hawthorne say something to the dean to make Cecilia disappear? This wasn't like her to just vanish.

  And for some reason, I couldn't think of a reason the dean would need to see Cecilia. His reputation on campus was that he only dealt with the trouble here, and anything else was handled by his secretaries.

  The only thing I could do was email her. But that wasn't going to fucking cut it.

  That was when I saw her, running to her dorm building in tears.

  "Cecilia?" I hopped out of the car and ran toward her. "Cecilia, speak to me!" I said, grabbing her in my arms. Yes, this was risky to make a scene. But there was hardly anyone around to notice, and we weren't in the view of the security guard.

  "I can't talk to you!" she cried.

  "Cecilia, what happened? Did the dean hurt you?" My voice raised. "Cecilia, talk to me. What did the dean say to you? Did he hurt you?"

  Cecilia bit her lip as tears streaked down her face. I looked over her clothes to make sure nothing looked disheveled or misplaced. If I even saw so much as one hair missing from her head, someone was going to die.

  "No, I'm just tired. I really need to go upstairs," she said, her voice breaking. Her body trembled in my arms like a young leaf.

  "Cecilia, you're crying. No one's going to hurt you or me, but you must tell me what happened."

  She sniffled and wiped another stray tear away. "Mr. Dent, I'm tired. I really need to go."

  She tore herself out of my arms and ran into her dorm building. I attempted to follow, but my better judgment got the best of me.

  And something else as well.

  "George. Please don't tell me this is what I think it is," Jeff said, leaning on the edge of the wall behind me.

  "You followed me."

  He folded his arms and straightened himself up. "Yes, I did. You almost knocked someone's car trying to get over here. Are you" —he walked up to me and whispered— "you're not dating her, are you?"

  "And what if I am?" I growled.

  "Oh, God," he moaned. "You are. I should've known this was about a girl by the way you were acting."

&n
bsp; He slapped his forehead and bent over as if he was punched in the gut. "This could get very messy. One wrong turn of the hormones and you can kiss your inheritance goodbye."

  I sucked my teeth and looked away from him.

  "Don't worry about the inheritance. I'll still achieve that."

  Jeff laughed and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Really?"

  "Yes. Cecilia isn't the problem."

  I took his hand off my shoulder and he frowned. "Fine, fine. You know I support everything you do. Just be careful. Anyone could say anything."

  "I know," I said, walking over to my car.

  "Call me if you need anything," Jeff shouted to me as I got into my car.

  I didn't respond. I was still pissed that I didn't get an answer as to what had happened to Cecilia. A part of me was glad she was safe. But the problem was still looming, and we were both in very vulnerable states.

  The passenger side door opened and in slid Alison.

  "You're going to give me answers or else I'm gonna get your ass fired."

  I sighed and leaned back in my seat. Was this her being Cecilia's friend? Or was she just being nosy? I couldn't tell, not with all the times I’d caught Cecilia walking around in the rain.

  "Alison Harvey, I don't know whether I can trust someone who calls Cecilia her friend but lets her run around in the rain."

  Alison rolled her eyes and shifted her body more in my direction in the seat.

  "Do you know how hard it is to get her to take my rides? Every once in a blue moon, she'll take a ride with me without a fuss, but taking help or presents isn't her strong suit. Now enough about me. What's the deal between you two?"

  "I saw her just now, the way you two interacted. It was intimate. Special. But I want to make sure you're not hurting her."

  Alison's eyebrows were furrowed and the scowl she wore was vicious. Maybe she was a good friend after all.

  "I'm waiting," she scoffed.

  "I have feelings for her. I want her to be safe, and someone made her cry. I have no ill intentions toward her. You now know too much, and if you take it for granted, you'll regret it."

  "Take my friend for granted and you'll regret it too, bucko." Alison smirked and got out of my car. Just in time, too. I had other business to attend to.

  As I drove, I kept a strict lookout to see if I was being followed. Cecilia . . . why didn't you tell me what was going on?

  I knew the building she lived in and that was all. My only time of communication with her was in class or if she happened to need a ride. That wasn't going to do anymore. I needed a phone number, a door number to her dorm. The works. And I knew who to ask to get that information.

  As for her friend, Alison, I no longer considered her a threat. She didn't back down from my idle warning, and she stood up for her the way a real friend should. Risky. But that was what you did for the people you cared about . . . and loved.

  At first, I decided that I would only take the money from the inheritance. But if people felt like messing with my Cecilia, then they'd learn why we were called the Dents.

  I drove back to my apartment and ran upstairs, ignoring the elevator. It took too long to come down, and I needed to stay in constant motion. The blood pumping in my veins needed an activity to burn energy.

  Nothing would settle in my being until I knew she was protected and watched over.

  Once I got inside, I locked my door and took out my phone.

  I never thought I'd call him. But between Ms. Hawthorne's idiotic threat and the hidden exchange between the dean and Cecilia, I had no choice.

  I didn't appreciate threats and secrets.

  The only promise I saw today was with Alison. Other than that, there were a few people who were going to have to burn, learn their place, and back down.

  I was on the verge of creating chaos and scandal. The better part of me held back and made me rationalize. There had to be a less messy way to handle this and still come out on top.

  I didn't need negative press, but if someone took me too far, then I wouldn't have a care in the world.

  Chapter 9

  Cecilia

  What made Dean Heech think he could touch me like that?

  The clothes? He did mention them . . . but that gave no man, no one, the right to touch a female like that.

  Still, I couldn't stop the tears leaking from my eyes. First, it was Ms. Hawthorne, then the dean, then the threat to my education.

  Screw it all. I didn't need this. What was the point of pursuing something so toxic? That degree only brought me pain and heartache.

  Alison burst into the room and saw me in a messy ball under my sheets, huddled against the corner of my bed.

  "Cecilia!" she cried, sliding onto my bed. "What happened? Tell me!" she demanded. "It wasn't Professor Dent, wasn’t it? I swear to God, I'll have Daddy all over this!"

  She held my shoulders and tried to rock me back to earth.

  "No." I sniffled. "Not him. Not him."

  "Tell me! Who then? Come on, you can't let people do this to you. I'm your friend. I can help and kick ass."

  I buried my head back into my knees and took some time to breathe.

  My parents would be devastated if I dropped out. But then, there wasn't a promise that I'd find a good job with that degree either. The painful truth I'd seen with higher education was that it was an expensive gamble.

  Alison would be fine. Her daddy had connections, but me? Who was I?

  Just a random girl trying to find her way in life and make money.

  But it wasn't going to be as simple as that. I had problems now, and those problems were threatening to land me behind a deep fryer, making French fries and flipping hamburgers for life.

  "Alison," I said, getting the energy to speak. "It's complicated, but if I tell you something, will you keep it a secret?"

  "Sure! We've been friends since our last year of high school. Nothing's changed. I'll hold it to my chest, even through the afterlife."

  I wiped my eyes and Alison held up some napkins so I could wipe my nose. My whole body still shook as a humid heat enveloped me and made me perspire.

  "I'm in love with the pre-cal teacher. And there's a jealous woman who wants to ruin that." I was right at the beginning of telling her about the dean, but that was too much to talk about at the same time.

  "A jealous woman, huh? Damn. Damn it, Cecilia. If you two get caught, that could spell bad news," she cautioned. "Is it really love?"

  I nodded my head. George Dent was made up of nothing but love. He protected me, sheltered me, healed my scrapes, and spoiled me.

  "So, that bag of expensive lingerie and vibrators was from him, wasn't it?" she asked, chuckling.

  "Yeah," I mumbled into my knees.

  "Ooh, kinky. Look at my innocent Cecilia." She gasped. "Oh, my God, does that mean he popped your cherry?"

  I hushed her down, and she apologized. "But did he?" she whispered.

  "No, not yet."

  "Huh, protective and patient. Nice mix. Jealous of you, big time. You scored an older man who's a keeper. I spoke to him in his car—"

  I popped my head up. "Wait, what? You did what?"

  Alison gave me a goofy 'oh, shit, said too much' grin.

  "I saw you with him and you were crying. So I followed him to his car and . . . um. Made him admit . . ." Alison twiddled her forefingers together with a wide grin.

  "Alison!"

  "Look, he got on my case and I got on his. I think he's good to go. But I couldn't avoid talking to him, you know?"

  I sighed and let it go. I knew she didn't mean any harm. But I didn't want to bring other people into this madness.

  "So, the jealous woman?"

  "I just want to take a walk," I said, scooting out of bed.

  "Let me come—"

  "No, I'm good." I took my small purse and went outside.

  "If you don't call me in two hours, I'm going to freak out."

  "Make it three, please," I said, lifting three fingers up.


  Alison pouted. "Fine."

  The sky clouded over and it was cooler now.

  I could've taken this opportunity to go to the police or anything. But all I could do was walk aimlessly.

  I stared at the sky like it was going to give me an answer, then I followed the ground like I could avoid being seen.

  It was safe to say.

  I was over.

  Over the law degree.

  I was at the edge of campus when a car sped by me, almost hitting me. Too bad I didn't get a face, though inside, I already knew. It was probably Ms. Hawthorne.

  Then something black was whipped around my eyes and I was pulled back into what felt and sounded like a truck or van.

  Before I could scream, they gagged my mouth and tied me up.

  "Go!" a man shouted. Oh, God, where were they taking me? What was going to happen to me? I struggled against the cloth around my wrists and ankles, but two firm hands were on my shoulders, keeping me in place.

  "That was easy," another man said. "He owes us big time for this. He must really like this one."

  What were they talking about? Dean Heech? Oh, shit, he had someone kidnap me?

  I tried to bump around to cause a commotion, but another pair of hands held my ankles down. The surrounding blackness made the hair on my neck stand up.

  I couldn't see if they were going to stab, punch, or even kill me.

  The vehicle rattled and bumped, but I could tell it wasn’t on the highway because it didn’t feel like we were going that fast. Ten grueling minutes later, the vehicle stopped, and I was hauled into an elevator and taken somewhere.

  Then the blindfold came off, and who did I see?

  George Dent. He handed the men a stack of bills and they walked out.

  "George? You had me kidnapped?"

  Heat shot up to my forehead and my fists shook.

  “Cecilia, please, I was very worried. You wouldn’t talk to me. So, I had you brought here. I need you to feel safe.”

  I jumped off the couch. “But that scared me!”

  “And so did seeing you cry and not knowing why,” he bit back.

  That could’ve ended in a bad way. But now that I knew it was George, some of the tension slid off my back and I was able to catch my breath.