“I turned my anger on you and that was wrong.” He releases a heavy sigh. “Can you accept my apology?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s not often I feel I am wrong enough to offer one.”
“I’m sure that is true.”
“Will you come back tomorrow?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Very much. I came here to ask you in person.”
“Why?”
“You’re very capable. We work well together.” He runs his hands through his hair, which momentarily distracts me from my anger. “I need you, Miss Harper.”
His admission surprises me. I bow my head and stare at the floor for a moment, thinking about what to say next. He must be sincere to come all this way to apologize.
“I’ll come back on one condition.”
The professor’s eyebrows rise briefly. I highly doubt he is often in a negotiating situation.
“What is that?”
“That I will receive the respect that I give to you.”
“That is a fair demand.”
“Fine then.”
“Fine.”
He makes no move to leave and I wonder why he lingers. Is there something else to discuss? I do the only thing I know how to do when company arrives. Be hospitable.
“Would you like a cup of tea, Professor?”
“If it’s not a bother, I would love some.”
I’m surprised again. I had no expectation he would actually agree. “Have a seat. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Walking into the kitchen, I shake my head. This man is full of surprises. He comes to my house to apologize and now he wants to stay for tea?
I boil the water and get two cups and saucers out for us. I hope he likes Earl Grey as it’s all I have on hand. I wonder what we’ll talk about now.
Back in the living room, the professor sits on my sofa, his leg crossed over the other like the day I saw him eating lunch. He holds a book of mine in his hands and flips through the pages. Looking up at me, he smiles and sets the book down.
“Dante?” he asks.
“Yes. I’ve been rereading La Commedia Divina.”
“For pleasure?” he asks with a smirk on his face.
“Yes. For pleasure.”
“I wish I had more students who could find the enjoyment in reading such material.”
“It must be a passion or it’s simply a chore.” I grin, recalling the discussion at school with poor Miss Patterson.
Luca smiles and I am immediately disarmed. “I agree. You must be quite passionate.”
“I am fascinated by Italian history and culture. Another reason I wanted to work for you.” I hand him his tea. “I put a bit of honey in it.”
“Thank you.” He takes a sip. “Do you drink coffee?”
“Yes.”
“There is a great coffee stand on the other side of campus. It’s a bit of a walk, but worth it. I’ll take you for a break sometime.”
“Okay.”
The professor sets his cup down. “I might as well address the rather large elephant in the room. Nico.” He glances at me. “I won’t stand in your way if you want to pursue something with him. I do want to warn you, though. I had good reasons for attempting to keep you apart.”
“Jealousy?” As soon as I say it, I can’t believe I let the word escape my lips.
“You think I’m jealous of Nico?”
“It was a rather strong reaction.”
“I am not jealous of him. I don’t give a damn who he fu…” he pauses, then smiles. “My reaction is because of you. It’s a well-known fact that I go through assistants quickly. It’s usually due to incompetence or incompatibility. I finally have someone I think will work and fits well with me. I don’t want to lose you when he breaks your heart.”
“Why do you assume he will? I never said any of this was romantic.”
“That’s what Nico does. He doesn’t get close to women. He doesn’t fall in love. He has his way with them and when he’s bored he moves on. I’ve seen it a dozen times. He’s interested in you because of your connection to me.”
I bristle again, knowing this conversation is heading to a place I don’t want it to.
“Miss Harper,” he says, noticing my discomfort. “My comments are not a reflection of your attractiveness,” he quickly adds. “You’re a lovely girl. I just know him. His intentions are not good.”
“I’m a grown woman and I can make my own decisions. All we did was eat.”
“He brought you flowers. He is wooing you, don’t you see that?”
I rub my forehead. “I don’t want to discuss this with you anymore.”
“Alright. I’ve overstayed my welcome.” The professor stands and my eyes float up the length of his body. It would be easier to hate him if he were old and ugly. “Thank you for your hospitality. See you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Thank you. Good evening, Miss Harper.”
“Good evening, Professor.”
I show him out and lean against the door. My head is spinning from the day’s events. As I take our empty tea cups to the kitchen I wonder why the professor showed up, but his brother didn’t. Not a peep since I saw him. It doesn’t sit well with me. Not one bit.
WALKING BACK TO MY CAR, I’m hopeful I was successful in getting Londyn back. I wish Nico had never walked into my office that day in August. He’s set his sights on her. For years, he acted out his pain from my rejection by trying to create hurt for me. This is just like the time I went out with Catherine. Once he found out, he set out to get her away from me and he was successful. He got that poor woman to fall for him and once he felt like he had thoroughly broken me, he dumped her. I got hate mail from her for three months after that. She said it was my fault for giving up and not fighting for her. She didn’t know that when it comes to Nico, I can’t fight. For the rest of my life, whatever Nico wants of mine he can have. Except Londyn. For some reason, she makes me try harder. Probably because I’m impossible to work for and can’t keep an assistant if my life depends on it. She is the only one who has shown promise.
I ignore the presence of Nico’s words lingering in my mind about my feelings towards Londyn. I know that my desire to protect her from him is purely selfish and solely for professional reasons. Even if I was interested in her, which I’m not, I doubt she would see a jerk like me as a tantalizing option for her. She is young, full of life, and happy. The last thing she needs is me and my fucked up relationship with Nico. She is practically a saint for taking me back.
As I drive back to my place, I wonder why she needs the job. It’s obvious from where she lives that she has money. You don’t live in a place like that on an assistant’s salary. Even with a roommate, it isn’t possible. I suddenly want to know a lot more about her and feel a slight pang of jealousy that my brother spent time with her socially.
Once home, I take a long shower. What a fucking day. Leaning my arms against the tile, I stand directly under the hot water, wishing somehow it could cleanse my heart of all the pain and darkness that lives there. What I wouldn’t give to feel a moment of true happiness. To feel hope. To feel love again. The love of a woman. My heart feels heavy in my chest as I dry off and climb into bed.
“YOU’RE GOING BACK?” Madeleine asks, as I brush my hair.
“Yes. I’m going back. We talked it out.”
“Is that so? He was a complete wanker to you.”
“I know. He apologized and we set some new ground rules.”
“I guess you know what you’re doing.”
“I do. I’m surprised you’re up so early.”
“Who says I ever went to sleep,” she says, laughing.
“Good time, then?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
“Are you gonna see Nico again?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t called.” I slip into my skirt. “Luca says he’s the type that loves them and leaves them.”
�
��Do you think that’s true?”
“I have no idea.”
“He hasn’t called?”
“No.”
“I don’t think I like either of these brothers. They both seem a bit fucked up, if you ask me.”
“I wish I could argue with you.”
“Be careful. With both of them. I think they’re trouble.”
“I will. I’m pleased with myself that I stood up to the professor yesterday.”
“So am I.”
“Go get some sleep. I’ll see you around six.”
“Perfect. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Taking a deep breath, I head out the door ready to face the professor again. Looking at my phone to check the time, I notice a text message from Nico.
I’m sorry I caused problems with you and Luca. I think it’s best if I lay low for a while. Maybe he’ll come around. Take care. Nico
I don’t know what to think as I read the words a second time. I guess I’m just not worth the trouble. I shove my phone in my messenger bag and walk to my train stop. I knew not to get my hopes up.
Staring out the window, I think back to how calm my life was just a month ago. These Di Roma men sure know how to stir things up.
I walk quietly to the office. There is still no music playing and I realize I miss the morning serenade that greeted me in my first weeks. Inside the room, the professor sits at his desk, typing away on his computer. It’s clear he didn’t shave from the day before. The dark stubble that covers his cheeks only increases his attractiveness and I hate that I just had that thought.
“Good morning, Professor,” I say, entering. I notice the flowers are gone. I assume Nico took them back with him.
“Ah, Miss Harper. I’m glad to see you.”
“Everything alright?”
“Yes, fine. Why?”
“You just look like you’ve been here a while.”
Glancing at his watch, he replies. “Yes, since five. I was a bit behind from yesterday. I’m just finishing my lecture notes.”
“Can I get you anything? Coffee or tea?”
“No, but I’d like your opinion.”
“Sure.”
“My lecture for my first session is about Machiavelli. I want to highlight the aspects of his career that are not as well known.” He stands and walks towards me. “What I really want is for my students to understand that the power struggles and intrigue of his time are no different than our modern times. I’m looking for contemporary examples that are not as obvious.” He sets a book down in front of me. “Have you read this before?”
I glance down at the book. “The Prince. Yes, I’ve read it.”
“This is a freshmen level class. I can’t decide if I should start them in modern times and work backwards or vice versa. Thoughts?”
I am surprised the professor is interested in my opinion at all. “I think it would be interesting to start off with things happening now, with the wars and the political issues in America. I think it would throw them off to see imagery of events happening now. They will think they accidently stepped into a Poly Sci class.”
The professor stares at me for a moment before turning and lifting a folder from his desk.
“I planned to do just that.”
I open the folder and look at his presentation slides. “I just can’t decide the order, but I like your idea.”
“You could show them all that and then ask them if they know what you are talking about. They will give you a bunch of wrong answers and then, boom, you give them The Prince.”
“I think that sounds rather exciting, Miss Harper.”
I think it does, too. A man can be as physically attractive as he wants, but it’s his intelligence that usually turns me on. Professor Di Roma has that in spades.
“Okay then,” the professor says. “For my next class, we are going to be discussing Italian film. I want the first movie we discuss to pull them in. Really grab them. I will save Fellini for later.”
“I saw a rather riveting film a few years ago. It captivated me.”
“What is it called?”
“Cuore Sacro.”
“Sacred Heart? Yes, of course! I think that is a good choice.”
“It moved me to my core. I remember sitting silently for ten minutes after it was over trying to absorb the emotions running through me.”
The professor stops and gazes down at me. “I had a similar reaction to it. It will demonstrate Italian cinematography while evoking the depth of emotion I seek. Perfect.”
I smile, feeling proud that I contributed. I’m astounded by the gorgeous, full smile that suddenly fills the professor’s face.
“I told you I needed you.”
“Thank you, Professor.” I pick up the files from yesterday, still sitting on my desk unfinished. “I’ll finish these straight away this morning.”
“Good. After that, I’ll take you over to the lecture hall. There are a few things I want to show you over there.”
“Okay.”
We settle into our routine, silently working together. I wonder how long the professor’s mood will stay pleasant. It’s impossible that it’s permanent, but I’ll take it as long as it’s there.
I ONLY FEEL SLIGHTLY DISHONEST for the conversation I had with Londyn this morning. I had my entire lecture planned out as I usually do, but I needed a way to make sure she knew how much I valued her opinion. I must admit, I did like her idea that the students will think they are in the wrong class.
It does help to have someone to talk about my ideas, though. Someone who understands what I am talking about and she came up with a creative choice for the movie selection. Londyn’s knowledge of the subject I teach is astounding. I think she will really enjoy my lecture today. There is nothing more fulfilling than talking to someone who shares your passion. Her professors were lucky to have her.
Teaching a lecture is my favorite part of what I do. Sure, heading the department is nice, and the books and speaking engagements are truly humbling, but I’ve never lost sight of how amazing it is to impart my knowledge onto others. To see someone’s eyes light up with discovery or to witness a student embracing a topic they never thought they would. It is the sole reason I push so hard. Even though most of what I teach is from the past, it adds so much depth to the present. I stand and prepare to head to the lecture hall. I bring my favorite mug filled with ice water and my breath mints in case my throat gets dry. Straightening my tie, I notice Londyn’s eyes on me. I would pay a king’s ransom to know what she is thinking at this moment.
“Ready, Miss Harper?”
“Yes, Professor,” she says softly. “Do I need to bring anything?”
“Just you.” I smile.
We head out and walk the short distance to the hall. Londyn helps me set up the room and test the equipment just as students start to filter in. I’m expecting a full classroom.
“Why don’t you sit there, Miss Harper? You’ll have a good view.”
“Certainly.” She walks to the corner seat and sits down.
Let’s get this show started.
“GOOD AFTERNOON, STUDENTS. Welcome to the first day of the most difficult literature class you will ever take. Should you choose to embark on this adventure with me, by the end of the term, you can rightfully call yourself an expert on the subject. You will dig deeper, study harder, and think clearer than you will in many classes. If you are not challenged by this course, I assure you that I will rectify the situation immediately.” The professor pauses for a moment and takes a sip of water. “I do not give A’s freely and I know that is difficult to understand for the many overachieving personalities in the room. To earn a top mark from me is the equivalent of scaling Mt. Everest- it can be done, but not without considerable skills, time, and sweat. Now, if any of you are thinking of leaving, now is your opportunity to do so. I won’t stop or judge you.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “But, if you stay, I promise you, it will be worth your time.”
The
professor pauses and looks around the room, then briefly looks down at his papers. I hear a slight hum of whispered voices, but no one attempts to leave. I already know that in spite of his warnings, his lectures are highly desired and his classes are always full. Often, there is a waiting list in case someone drops. No one is leaving.
I watch in complete awe as the professor’s demeanor transforms before my eyes. His shoulders relax and a smile graces his face. From my seat, I can see the entire room of students, their eyes and attention affixed firmly to the man in front of me. A hush falls over the room as they wait for him to speak.
He walks across the room and lowers the lights in the room. I’m excited to see their reaction to the presentation slides. The professor doesn’t speak as words begin to flash on the projector screen at the front of the room. He stands near me on the side of the room where he can also gauge the reaction of his students.
The crowded room is silent as they study the images of American wars and politics. I see many expressions: perplexed, studious, determined. The music that accompanies the slides is dramatic and as the final scene is shown, there is a loud crescendo. The screen goes dark as the American President’s speech fades to silence. The professor moves silently to turn the lights on.
“Would anyone care to venture what this semester’s opening lecture is about?” he asks.
My eyes survey the room, looking for anyone willing to answer. I see a young man in the back row who is hard not to notice. He has bright red hair and even from here, I can see how green his eyes are. I can tell from his face that he wants to speak, but isn’t sure. I can’t tell if the professor notices him or not as he is looking down at his papers.
“Anyone?” the professor says with his eyes still downcast.
I do my best to stifle a giggle. The professor has stumped them. They have no idea why they just watched a bunch of clips about American politics. I wonder, too, if everyone is simply afraid to speak up on the first day.
The red-headed young man speaks up. “Professor Di Roma?”
The professor lifts his head and turns to face the student. “Yes?”
“I think the topic is going to be about Ancient Rome. Julius Caesar?”
Londyn Falls Page 12
