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I’ve always struggled with attraction. I was jealous when my friends would fawn over some guy they thought was the hottest man alive, even celebrities and pop stars. I just never met a guy who made me have that kind of reaction. The weak in the knees, make your heart skip a beat and your mouth go dry type of drop-dead desire… till right now.
Well, technically, it happened that first night I saw him at The Waterhouse. The moment I heard the bartender mention the name Cyrus Gates, my ears perked up. He really is notorious and that book I was reading, among other articles I’ve seen over the years, has made it clear the man doesn’t care what anyone thinks. Something about that I-don’t-give-an-F attitude and the way he carries himself is extremely attractive to me. A man that rich, that powerful that nobody can buy off or sway his opinion has me thinking all sorts of inappropriate thoughts. I feel my eyes glaze over and my head tilt as I wonder if he has that kind of dominance and power in bed.
No! This is wrong; this is so wrong on so many levels. This is Cyrus Gates, the man has a reputation as one of the worst men in Chicago who just so happens to be my professor and oh, I don’t know, is old enough to be my dad!
I feel my throat constrict and I reach down for my water bottle as a coughing fit threatens to erupt. Just as I bring it to my lips and take in a full mouthful of water, I cough, spraying the water half on the floor and half on my tablet and lap.
“I hope that you’ll feel com—are you okay, Miss James?” His brows furrow as he turns his attention to me, the rest of the class following suit as I attempt to wave away his concern.
“Ye—yes,” I manage to croak out after swallowing down the remaining water, nodding my head vigorously to reiterate my response. I wipe the water droplets from my tablet with the sleeve of my sweater while trying to nonchalantly dry my mouth and neck where the water ran down.
This is one of those moments people talk about wishing the floor would open up and swallow them whole. If I thought my cheeks were red earlier, they’re almost on fire at this point.
His eyes linger on me for a moment as he carries on with what he was saying.
“As I was saying, I want this class to feel open to discuss your thoughts on what I share with you. Like Miss James did earlier.” He gestures toward me, only deepening the burning sensation on my cheeks. “This class is for you, not for you to spare my feelings. This class is for you to learn, ask questions, even the most uncomfortable ones.”
I sink a little lower into my chair, hoping that if I stay focused on the screen in front of me, I won’t notice the way his eyes burn through me, like he can read every thought in my brain.
The second the bell sounds to signal our class is dismissed, I gather my things and make a break for the door, Serenity following closely behind me.
“What was that all about?” She catches up to me, grabbing my shoulder to spin me around so I face her.
“Nothing. I just answered Professor Gates’ question.”
She gives me a coy smile. “Yeah, we all saw that. I mean, what was with the tension between you two? Do you know him or something?”
“Uh, everyone knows him; he’s Cyrus Gates.” She gives me another look. “No, I don’t know him, Serenity. I just let it frustrate me that he’s our adjunct professor. Come on, that man teaching Ethics in Business? That’s like having a six-year-old with an Easy-Bake Oven teach a culinary class at Le Cordon Bleu.”
Serenity giggles, rolling her eyes at me. “I don’t think that’s quite the right analogy, but I get what you’re saying. Let me guess. That billionaire book you were reading made you hate him?”
I shrug. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Pres, maybe it’s a good thing to learn from someone like him, someone who doesn’t pretend to follow all the rules while we know they’re full of shit. He did tell us that he isn’t saying act like him; he even encouraged us to question his decisions. Besides”—she reaches out and touches my elbow—“we are getting our master’s in public relations, odds are, we’ll end up representing someone like him someday. You’re going to have to remove your personal feelings from it or your ass will get fired immediately.”
“You’re right.” I shake my head, my shoulders falling with the realization that I’m still way too uptight. I need to learn to relax, let go of the things that I have no control over. It’s never served me to be so stressed out and tense all the time. “Guess I’m still working on that part of it. Ugh, now I feel bad that I overreacted. Why do I always shoot my mouth off like that?”
She rubs my back. “Because you’re still that somewhat innocent young girl who moved to the city to experience life and let loose… You just haven’t figured out how to do that yet.”
I think back to when I met Serenity my first week on campus at the University of Chicago. We were both studying business with the desire to continue on with a master’s in public relations. She was instantly my best friend, even though she’s the complete opposite of me. She was born and raised in Chicago, already had a huge network of friends, and knew all the best hot spots and party scenes. I, on the other hand, grew up three hours south of the city in a farm town that had one stoplight and kids that drove tractors to school.
While she has brought me out of my shell a lot, I still can’t seem to shake my good girl persona. I had confessed to her early on in our friendship that I wanted to shed that image, that I wanted to experience life and enjoy my twenties, take a few risks and explore my wild side. Unfortunately, I became so engrossed in school and my internship that a few frat parties, two mediocre short-lived romances, and one weekend in Vegas where I spent almost the entire time writing a paper in the hotel room was as wild as it got for me.
“Besides,” she says, pulling me out of my thoughts, “we both know you’re smarter than him. He’s just a man with a shit ton of money so people admire him.” She winks at me. “It’s our final semester of school forever; take some notes and learn a few lessons from one of the most powerful men in America. It could come in handy someday. Plus, having a connection like Cyrus Gates in the world can’t be a bad thing, right?”
I chew my bottom lip for a second, listening to her.
“You’re right.” I glance over her shoulder just as Mr. Gates exits the building and starts walking away. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you later,” I say as I step around her. “Thanks again for the pep talk, as usual!” I wave to her as I attempt to walk quickly down the sidewalk, dodging the icy patches.
“Professor!” I half shout as I round the building toward the parking lot. “Professor Gates!”
He stops and turns around, a look of confusion on his face as he squints against the sunshine that bounces off the snow.
“Hi, Professor.” I attempt to hide that I’m half out of breath.
He lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Please don’t call me that.”
“Um, pardon?”
