Professor Feelgood (Page 19)

“Good to know.”

“If you choose to sign with us, I would be honored to be your editor. I know your style, I understand your rhythm, and I truly believe I’m the best person to bring your words to life.”

“Okay.” I can feel an air of impatience.

I take a breath. Dear professor, prepare to have your mind blown.

“With all that in mind, Whiplash would like to offer you the largest advance we’ve ever given a debut author. How would you feel about three-hundred-thousand dollars?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line.

Serena, Mr. Whip, and I share a look. Not the reaction we’d expected. Maybe he’s shocked into silence.

“Professor?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Just … thinking.”

“Okay, of course. I understand this is a big decision. That’s a lot of money.”

“Uh huh.”

I’ve met some laconic men in my life, but I think the professor is the king of them all. Most people would show at least a hint of excitement when confronted with a small fortune, but I’m quickly learning that this man isn’t most people.

“Uh … if you need more time, you can always get back to us later today. Or … tomorrow?”

Another pause, followed by a noisy exhale. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay. Great. So, just give us a call when you––”

“No, I mean okay to the deal. I’ll sign with Whiplash.”

There are a few seconds of shocked silence, during which we all share a surprised look. Then Mr. Whip clasps his hands together in delight.

“That’s fantastic news! We’re thrilled to have you on board.”

“You won’t regret it, professor,” Serena says. “Asha is going to do wonderful things with your words. I have no doubt.” She beams at me. “I’ll start getting the contract together and give you a call later today to sort out the details.”

“Sounds good.”

“Well,” Mr. Whip says, smiling at me. “I know Asha is keen to get started as soon as possible. Are you available to come in tomorrow to meet the whole team? And afterward, you and Asha can get your heads together about some content ideas.”

“Sure.”

“Great. I’ll organize everyone for a nine a.m. round table. I look forward to meeting you in person then.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

Mr. Whip and Serena head out of the conference room, leaving me to sign off.

I’m so excited and relieved that this whole sucky situation has had a positive outcome, I feel like hugging someone. Preferably the professor.

“Okay, then,” I say, sinking into the chair. “This is turning out to be an amazing day after all. Professor, I can’t thank you enough for joining the Whiplash family. I’m really looking forward to working with you.”

“Yeah, until you find out how difficult I am. Then you’ll run for the hills.”

I don’t know if he’s joking or not, but I laugh anyway. “Nothing short of a major felony is going to turn me off, believe me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I look up as Joanna sneaks into the room. She grins and silently mimes a touchdown, accompanied by a ridiculous celebratory dance.

I suppress a laugh. “So, professor, before you go, do you have any questions for me? Concerns?”

There’s a long pause during which Joanna comes over and sits beside me. We both stare at the phone. After about thirty seconds, the professor says, “Yeah, there is something we need to talk about, but I’d rather do it in person. Can you meet me tonight?”

Joanna’s jaw drops and she mouths, Oh my God, he wants you!

I wave her off as my mind races. Yes, the way he said it was stupidly sexy, but we’re entering into a business arrangement, not a relationship. Besides, I already have a wonderful man in my life, and if I can just figure out how to have mind-blowing sex with him, I intend on locking him down.

“Brooklyn? You still there?”

“Uh … yes. Sorry. Of course we can meet tonight. It would be a great way to celebrate our new partnership. Just say when and where. The champagne will be on me.”

“I’ll text you.”

“Fantastic. Talk to you later.”

“Uh huh.”

As soon as I disconnect the call, Joanna gasps. “Oh, dear heavenly sex voices. You’re going to see that hot piece of man in person tonight. I have spare panty liners, should you need them.”

I roll my eyes as I grab my phone before we both leave the conference room.

“It’s a business meeting, Jo. No panty liners necessary.”

“Whatever you say. But what if he tries to kiss you?”

“He won’t.”

“He might. You’re freaking gorgeous. In any case, wear something smoking hot. If he falls madly in lust with you, then so be it.”

“Jo, I’m taken, so I’m going to wear something appropriate for a business meeting.”

She makes a disappointed sound but doesn’t push it further.

When we reach my desk, she sits back in the extra chair. I quickly check my inbox and see that Serena has already sent a slew of emails about the professor coming into the office tomorrow. She’s also asked me to brief everyone before he arrives, so we’re all on the same page. As I read the memos, I feel myself grinning.

I turn to find Joanna smiling, too. “Your first author, Ash. How cool is that?”

I nod. “Pretty freaking cool.”

“I’m so stinking proud of you.”

I grab my phone with the thought to call Nannabeth and Eden to tell them the good news, but then a text buzzes through from the professor.

<Clydesdales on E9th St. 8pm.>

A shiver of excitement runs through me as I shoot back, <Seen you then.>

Joanna fans herself. “And the countdown to debilitating hotness begins in three … two … one … now.”

I’m still laughing at her when Devin scurries past us on his way to the lobby.

SEVEN

____________________

So Very No

AS I SIT IN THE CROWDED bar, I judder my leg under the table. My nerves are making me feel sick and hot, and no matter how hard I try to settle down, nothing seems to help, not even the über-strong cocktail I’m sipping.

As I smooth down my hair, I glance around and try to avoid looking like I’m desperate. There’s only so long you can sit by yourself in a bar before people start throwing sympathetic glances your way, knowing you’ve been stood up. Right now, I’m straddling that line. The professor is more than fifteen minutes late, and I’m starting to seem like a social pariah.

A clean-shaven blond guy approaches me, but I shoot him down before he even opens his mouth.

“I’m waiting for someone.”

I’m thankful when he nods and veers past me to a couple of college girls.

I subtly reach beneath the table and tug down the hem of my dress. Earlier, I’d tried on nearly every outfit in my closet before settling on a sleek, black pencil dress. Like most of the items in my closet, it’s form-fitting, because I’ve learned that the best way to minimize my curves is to not add extra bulk, but the hemline and neckline are conservative enough to give it a polished and professional air. I’m hoping I look like a fuller-figured version of Audrey Hepburn; classy, stylish, and confident.

I’ll admit that I’m abnormally nervous about tonight’s meeting. I’m deeply attracted to the professor’s work and therefore him, but more than that, I have a powerful need to impress him. I really hope I rise to the challenge of doing his words justice. Even though I’ve only seen small glimpses of who he is through our conversations, I know without a doubt he possesses some sort of stark, brave integrity I haven’t encountered often in my life. He knows who he is, and even though he doesn’t seem to like himself very much, he’s not hiding behind some kind of perfect facade. He freely admits his flaws and puts them on display for the whole world to see. There’d be less bullshit in the world if more people did that.