to her.
“Whatever. I don’t understand how you two are in this program. You don’t take anything seriously. I’m sure your Mommy and Daddy are enjoying seeing their money go to waste. How much did they pay for your internship?”
“What did you say?” I seethe as my eyes bulge and then narrow at her ignorant comment.
“I saw the list. It appears that you both are applying for the best internships in Boston. I wonder how that happened.” She breezes past me before I have a chance to defend myself or correct her obvious misinterpretation of who I am.
“Leave it alone, Rem.”
“Leave it alone? She basically called me a spoiled brat who lives off of my parents’ money!”
My phone signals an incoming text.
“That’s not too far from the truth, babe.” Simon replies as I reach into my back pocket for my phone.
“Oh, yes, that right! I forgot what a charmed life I’ve lived. See you later, asshole.” I blow a kiss in his direction before I walk toward the building where David’s office is.
I raise my hand to knock on the heavy wooden door that’s slightly ajar, but decide to wait when I hear whispered voices.
“We will soon. I promise.”
“Thank you,” a woman’s voice purrs.
When I realize the sound of their footsteps are coming closer, I retreat quickly and sit in the metal folding chair.
A woman steps through the door and smiles tightly at me. “Remy.”
I rise quickly and stand to greet her. I don’t know who she is; I’m surprised she knows my name. “Hi,” I squeak awkwardly to the dark-skinned beautiful and statuesque woman who exudes an aura of confidence and elegance.
David stands beside her and places a hand on her back. “Remy. This is Dr. Chanel Taylor. Chanel, this is Remy Scott.”
A long, well-manicured hand extends, offering a firm grip when I accept it. I suddenly feel self-conscious about my short unpainted nails. I pull my eyes from our clasped hands to find a smile across her face.
“Hi, Dr. Taylor.”
“Please call me Chanel. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
I grin and flash my eyes to David playfully. “Don’t believe a word he says.”
“He speaks very highly of you.”
I turn my eyes away to hide the moment of embarrassment. Some people accept compliments easily; I do not. The compliments I usually garner are about my body, particularly my ass and boobs. “Thank you.” I meet her inquisitive eyes again.
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Thanks. You, too.”
Chanel smiles warmly and leans in to kiss David’s cheek. There is no denying the fact that something is going on between them. That kiss was no friendly kiss goodbye; it was a promise of things to come. I stand there awkwardly, feeling like a third wheel until she nods, turns and walks down the long corridor into her own office.
I close the door to David’s office and follow him to the leather couch that sits in front of a huge bookcase filled with rows and rows of books. I take a moment to appreciate his calm yet confident demeanor as he sits and crosses his legs. With a head full of jet black hair, the subtle hint of grey around his temples is the only sign of his age. He’s maintained his body, keeping it fit and trim like he always has.
I want so much to ask him about Chanel and the reason behind the slight smirk on his face, but when we speak at the same time, his tone is more reserved and I immediately realize it’s business as usual.
“So, Remy, tell me. How are things this week?” The way in which he asks softly, without the hint of judgment, reminds me of a therapist.
I shrug, annoyed at his question and his tone. “They’re okay. I’m managing.”
Hazel eyes behind square- framed glasses see through my lie. “What can I do to help?”
I scrub my hands over my face and freeze immediately when I realize that I’ve just rubbed my mascara-covered lashes. “Goddammit.”
Here comes the judgment at my
“Whatever. I don’t understand how you two are in this program. You don’t take anything seriously. I’m sure your Mommy and Daddy are enjoying seeing their money go to waste. How much did they pay for your internship?”
“What did you say?” I seethe as my eyes bulge and then narrow at her ignorant comment.
“I saw the list. It appears that you both are applying for the best internships in Boston. I wonder how that happened.” She breezes past me before I have a chance to defend myself or correct her obvious misinterpretation of who I am.
“Leave it alone, Rem.”
“Leave it alone? She basically called me a spoiled brat who lives off of my parents’ money!”
My phone signals an incoming text.
“That’s not too far from the truth, babe.” Simon replies as I reach into my back pocket for my phone.
“Oh, yes, that right! I forgot what a charmed life I’ve lived. See you later, asshole.” I blow a kiss in his direction before I walk toward the building where David’s office is.
I raise my hand to knock on the heavy wooden door that’s slightly ajar, but decide to wait when I hear whispered voices.
“We will soon. I promise.”
“Thank you,” a woman’s voice purrs.
When I realize the sound of their footsteps are coming closer, I retreat quickly and sit in the metal folding chair.
A woman steps through the door and smiles tightly at me. “Remy.”
I rise quickly and stand to greet her. I don’t know who she is; I’m surprised she knows my name. “Hi,” I squeak awkwardly to the dark-skinned beautiful and statuesque woman who exudes an aura of confidence and elegance.
David stands beside her and places a hand on her back. “Remy. This is Dr. Chanel Taylor. Chanel, this is Remy Scott.”
A long, well-manicured hand extends, offering a firm grip when I accept it. I suddenly feel self-conscious about my short unpainted nails. I pull my eyes from our clasped hands to find a smile across her face.
“Hi, Dr. Taylor.”
“Please call me Chanel. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
I grin and flash my eyes to David playfully. “Don’t believe a word he says.”
“He speaks very highly of you.”
I turn my eyes away to hide the moment of embarrassment. Some people accept compliments easily; I do not. The compliments I usually garner are about my body, particularly my ass and boobs. “Thank you.” I meet her inquisitive eyes again.
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Thanks. You, too.”
Chanel smiles warmly and leans in to kiss David’s cheek. There is no denying the fact that something is going on between them. That kiss was no friendly kiss goodbye; it was a promise of things to come. I stand there awkwardly, feeling like a third wheel until she nods, turns and walks down the long corridor into her own office.
I close the door to David’s office and follow him to the leather couch that sits in front of a huge bookcase filled with rows and rows of books. I take a moment to appreciate his calm yet confident demeanor as he sits and crosses his legs. With a head full of jet black hair, the subtle hint of grey around his temples is the only sign of his age. He’s maintained his body, keeping it fit and trim like he always has.
I want so much to ask him about Chanel and the reason behind the slight smirk on his face, but when we speak at the same time, his tone is more reserved and I immediately realize it’s business as usual.
“So, Remy, tell me. How are things this week?” The way in which he asks softly, without the hint of judgment, reminds me of a therapist.
I shrug, annoyed at his question and his tone. “They’re okay. I’m managing.”
Hazel eyes behind square- framed glasses see through my lie. “What can I do to help?”
I scrub my hands over my face and freeze immediately when I realize that I’ve just rubbed my mascara-covered lashes. “Goddammit.”
Here comes the judgment at my
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