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At least my reasoning didn’t sound like a lie.
“I really wish you’d tell Professor Saint no about this job.”
“Why are you and Josie so insistent? Do you know how much that man is paying me?” I made certain no one could hear me. “Ten thousand a month.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Don’t you think that’s a little weird? I mean no offense, but you’re a student.”
“I’m a writer willing to do research, to allow my fingers to fly across a keyboard while he dictates delicious words. What’s not to like?”
“Where are you staying? You need to move out of the dorm. You can’t be living in a hotel.”
I laughed and grabbed two more saltshakers, noticing a courier was delivering the most gorgeous bouquet of roses I’d ever seen. Likely to the owner, who’d just had a baby. “I’m staying at his house.”
“Oh. My. God. You’re sleeping with him?”
Groaning, I rolled my eyes. “Would you like to say that just a tiny bit louder and no, for God’s sake. I have my own floor all to myself. It’s for convenience since we’ll be working long hours together.” Of that I wasn’t certain.
She still looked uncomfortable. “Look, you know who Josie’s father is. And did you see the story about that kid who was murdered outside some dilapidated buildings in a bad part of town? That was the police chief’s son, and he was like a son to Josie’s dad.”
“That guy was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“You can’t make light of this.”
I wanted to grill her on the point she was making when I noticed my boss out of the corner of my eye.
When Ashleigh, the owner, pointed in my direction after talking with the courier, I found myself tensing. “I’m not making light of anything. He’s a professor who was vetted by our university. He has an incredible reputation as being extremely charitable. And rumors can turn ugly because people have nothing better to do than to gossip like kids to make themselves feel better. The simple fact is that Easton is a highly respected professional and I might learn something while saving up so I can look for a job. Okay? Nothing more. And don’t worry. He’s not some crazed stalker or killer.”
“You make him out to be a saint,” she snorted, her eyes opening wide.
“Miss Adams?” the guy in the cap asked as he placed the insanely huge vase of flowers on the counter.
“Yes?”
“These are for you.” He had a grin on his face.
“Jesus,” Taylor mused as she folded her arms. “Looks like you’ve been keeping secrets.”
“No, I have not. There are beautiful.” I took a deep whiff, running a single finger over one of the soft petals. It felt exactly like velvet. When I pulled back, I noticed the water was pink. “Why is the water colored?”
The guy shrugged. “I dunno other than the dude who came into place the order had a tiny vial with him. He insisted our designers dump it in the water. Creepy if you ask me.”
“Kind of reminds me of blood,” Taylor cooed as she leaned in. “Oh, but he’s a regular good guy. Right?”
“Shut up,” I hissed under my breath.
“Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.”
One of my favorite quotes by Mark Overby came to mind, which only added to another macabre moment. Boy, wasn’t I in a strange mood lately.
All because you fucked the professor.
A cold shiver skittered down my spine. Yes, the color was perfectly tinted. Stop it. Just stop it.
No one had ever sent me flowers but since I was graduating, I wondered if my siblings had gone in on the flowers together. I pulled out five bucks from my stash of limited tips, trying to hand it to the guy.
“No need. All taken care of.” He nodded to both of us politely and started to head out.
“A secret admirer?” Taylor teased.
