Our Little Secret Read online

  “Nope. I know. We’re going to stick with all black.”

  She disappeared into the closet and returned with a pair of black skinny jeans. My eyes widened. “No way! I am not wearing those.”

  She nodded and went back into the closet. She returned a minute later with my knee high black boots. I did love my boots. “Nailed it,” she said.

  She was obviously very proud of herself. I looked at the items she pulled and wasn’t quite as convinced. It felt a little edgy and not at all the usual conservative style I wore. “I don’t know.”

  “Try it on,” she said. “We’ll tease your hair. Add a little smokey eye and you are going to look hot.”

  “I don’t want to look hot,” I complained. “I want to look like a professor.”

  She waved a hand. “No, you don’t. This is you showing those old windbags you are sexy and smart. You don’t have to dress like a professor to be a professor.”

  The outfit was edgy, but I wasn’t sure it was me. Then again, it all came from my closet. I just never wore all the items at the same time.

  I decided to stop worrying and just have fun with it.

  4

  Lukas

  Brad showed up at my place ten minutes earlier than we planned. “Give me five minutes,” I told him.

  He looked me up and down. “Are you wearing that?”

  I looked down at the dark suit I had on. “What’s wrong with my suit?” I asked. “It’s one of my best ones.”

  “You look like you’re going to work at a bank,” he said.

  I shrugged. “And? Why is that a bad thing?”

  “Because it’s supposed be casual,” he complained. “A mixer. I’m wearing jeans. This is a relaxed environment. No need to dress like a banker.”

  “I’m going to this thing because I plan on impressing a few folks. I’m not going to show up looking like I fell off out of a truck.”

  “I don’t look like I fell out of a truck,” he protested. “I look good.”

  “So do I,” I said. “I need to finish my hair.”

  “If you put any more product in that hair, you are going to be a fire hazard. I’m going to slap one of those yellow caution stickers on your ass.”

  I ignored him and walked back into my bathroom to finish my hair. There was a certain way I liked it and it did require just the right amount of gel. After, I rejoined Brad in the living room.

  “Better?” I asked.

  “You’re still wearing the suit.”

  “But my hair is done now,” I said.

  “But you’re wearing a suit,” he said again. “You look stuffy.”

  I shrugged. “I always wear a suit. I’m comfortable in a suit. I look good in a suit. A good suit exudes confidence. I walk into a room and people notice me.”

  “It’s too bad you’re lacking in self-confidence,” he said dryly.

  “Let’s do this. I go. I have a drink or two and make the right connections, and then I’m out.”

  “Don’t be hasty. You might actually have a good time.”

  “And getting a root canal is fun,” I replied. “I’m going into this with the knowledge it’s necessary. It isn’t fun, but it has to be done.”

  “But it should be fun,” he complained. “Don’t be a stick in the mud. Do not bring me down.”

  “I’m not planning on hanging out with you, so I won’t bring you down.”

  “We’re going together and sharing a cab,” he protested. “We’re not going on a date. Big difference. I’m not going to be hanging out with you because I already know you. I’m going to schmooze with the others.”

  “Oh boy, much fun,” he said.

  After a quick cab ride, we walked into the hotel ballroom the university rented for the shindig. It was much bigger than I thought it would be. I didn’t realize the faculty was that big. I had my work cut out for me.

  “Open bar,” he said. “Let’s get a drink.”

  I recognized a few people, but I wasn’t convinced they were all professors. How could I work with this many people and not know them? “Are these all teachers?” I asked Brad.

  He looked around. “Looks like it.”

  “Wow, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to make this work. This could just be fun. Free booze and free food.”

  “Nothing is free,” I warned him.

  “Don’t even start,” he said. “I do not need a lecture about money. Not tonight.”

  “You know this free stuff isn’t free,” I said. “You teach students how to make money in the hotel business. Those free breakfasts people in your industry offer aren’t so free.”

  He held up a hand. “Mercy. Uncle. I give up. No money talk.”

  We both fell silent as we scanned the room. The majority of the attendees were probably in their late thirties to late fifties. I was surprised to see the younger crowd. I really thought it would be a lot of old people.

  Suddenly, Brad was elbowing me in my side.

  “Dammit, what?” I snapped.

  “Check that one out,” he said and nodded toward a group of women.

  “They are old enough to be your mom,” I said with disgust.

  “Not them—her,” he said.

  A woman with long brunette hair cascading down her back turned to talk to one of the other older women. My eyes were focused on the curve of her round ass. The boots she was wearing and the tight jeans lifted her ass in the best way. I leaned to the left just a little to get a view of her face. If the woman was older than fifty, I was going to kick my own ass.

  “Oh shit,” I said when I recognized her from our interaction earlier in the week. She was definitely not over fifty.

  “I knew you would find someone you liked,” he teased.

  “No, that’s not it. I met her.”

  “Really? Who is she? Does she work on campus?”

  “She’s an art teacher,” I said.

  “No shit,” he said with surprise. “I thought I knew all the art teachers. They’re kind of a weird bunch. They all smell like patchouli and paint thinner. And a little weed.”

  “She didn’t smell like anything,” I said.

  “She’s hot.”

  “Trust me, you don’t stand a chance,” I warned him. “My office is across the hall from hers.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I haven’t moved back to the finance building,” I told him.

  “Procrastinate much?” he teased.

  “It’s quiet over there,” I told him. “I’m guessing there aren’t a lot of art majors. The halls are almost always empty. It’s got a good vibe. Even those students wearing all black with more holes in their faces than I can count seem happy. And I don’t want to pack up and move again.”

  “I never took you for the quiet-vibe type,” he said with a laugh. “What’s her name?”

  “River,” I said.

  “Oh, so she is one of them flower children,” he said. “Are her parents hippies?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I didn’t get the chance to ask. I didn’t get the chance to say much at all. She might be an art teacher, but she’s nothing like the art teachers I’ve ever met.”

  “How so?”

  “She isn’t warm and friendly,” I said.

  We were both watching her. “I don’t know, she certainly seems warm and friendly. Maybe it’s just you she doesn’t like.”

  “I didn’t even get a word out before she decided she didn’t like me.”

  He looked me up and down. “It’s the suits. I told you. You look like you think you’re better than everyone else.”

  “I do not,” I protested.

  “I bet she’ll like me,” he said.

  My competitive nature was not going to let that slide. “I guarantee you, she won’t.”

  “Before I set my sights on her, let me see what else I can find,” he mused.

  “What exactly do you think you’re going to do when you find an attractiv
e woman?” I asked him. “If all these people really do work at the university, they are off limits to you. You get caught sleeping with one of them and you risk your job.”

  “How exactly would I get caught?” he asked. “It’s not like we would be banging in the hallways or the classrooms. I don’t know what kind of freaky shit you’re into, but I don’t do the public sex thing.”

  Sometimes I didn’t know why I bothered with him. “Because this shit has a way of getting made public,” I told him. “There is never a way to keep things a secret. They always come to light. You’ll do something to piss her off and she’s going to tell one of her friends. That’s how rumors start.”

  “Do you always play by the rules?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “When it comes to making damn sure my future is secure, yes. Yes, I do. I’m not about to lose my job or risk losing tenure because I wanted to get laid. No pussy is that good or worth that much.”

  He smirked. “That’s your problem. You always see the glass as half empty. You’re worse than a ninety-year-old grandma fretting over every little thing. You have to shake things up. Now, let’s do a circle. I want to get a better look at the woman who shot you down.”

  “She didn’t shoot me down,” I argued.

  He took a drink. “Yeah, she did. You got your feelings hurt.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  He slapped me on the back. “Let’s mingle.”

  This was what I was actually here for. I glanced over my shoulder one more time to take another look at her. She was smiling and laughing. It was a much different look than I’d been privy to when I knocked on her office door. I wondered what it was she hated about me. I didn’t even get a chance to make a bad first impression. She scowled at me from the moment she opened the door.

  I tugged at my suit jacket. Maybe it was the suit.

  “Carl,” I said when I saw one of the few people I knew. He was another business professor and a consummate bachelor. He was always talking about how lucky he was to be single.

  “Hey, guys,” the older man said with a bright smile. “I didn’t think a couple of young bucks like you would want to be at a thing like this.”

  “I thought I would try and meet some of the other staff,” I said. “I feel like I don’t get out of my office enough. Most of these faces are unfamiliar.”

  Carl laughed and nodded. “We mathletes tend to stick together,” he said. “Bachelor mathletes.”

  Carl was not a bachelor by choice. He was one of the most irritating human beings on the planet. He was arrogant and had this idea he was smarter than everyone else on the planet. I did not want to end up like him. I was going to have to take some of Brad’s advice and loosen up a little or I was going to be Carl.

  “How long do these things last?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “You’ve got the older crowd that will make their excuses in about an hour. You got the science geeks that will try and outlast guys like us just to prove they are less geeky than we are. Then you got the legal eagles. Those are the guys that are going to be closing the place down.”

  “What about the artsy-fartsy ones?” Brad asked.

  Carl shrugged. “They stick to themselves. Most of them are married to the moon or some shit. I don’t mess with them.”

  It was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Brad saw a challenge. “Let’s go introduce ourselves,” Brad said with a grin.

  I was actually looking forward to seeing her cut him down. If she didn’t shoot him down like she did to me, then I was going to have to take a hard look in the mirror. I wasn’t sure I was quite ready to accept I might not be good enough for a woman like her.

  I shook my head. “This is going to end badly for you.”

  “I doubt that,” he said with a laugh.

  “Carl, enjoy yourself. We’ll see you around,” I said, and we slowly meandered towards the art group. “I should record this.”

  “Yes, you should,” he said. “Watch and learn from the master.”

  5

  River

  I felt eyes on me. I looked away from the group of women I was talking to and saw the man I had met earlier. Shit, what was his name? He was making a beeline for me. I wasn’t going to panic. I stared back at him. He had a way of unnerving me with that steely-eyed stare. Like he was looking through me. I saw his lips move and then his eyes looked away from me.

  Then I saw the other man walking toward me. He was a few inches shorter than his friend. His dark brown eyes were on me with a cocky smile on his face. I inwardly groaned. I knew the look.

  “Hi,” the man said.

  “Hello,” I replied.

  “You look like you could use a drink,” he said with a cocky grin.

  I held up my half-full glass of wine. “Got one.”

  “You look like the kind of woman who could use something a little stronger than wine,” he said.

  “And what do I look like I could use?” I answered.

  “Good conversation,” he replied like he’d made some kind of profound comment. “I’m Brad Grimes. I teach hospitality services.”

  I looked at three women I’d been talking to. “And what makes you think I don’t have exactly that?” I said and completely ignored his introduction.

  “You don’t have what?” he asked with confusion.

  “Good conversation,” I said with a smile. “These ladies and I share something in common. We all love art.”

  He looked uncomfortable. “I like art.”

  “Really? Who’s your favorite painter?”

  The first hint of hesitation crossed his face. He was regretting his decision to come over and talk to me. “Why don’t I get you a refill and we can talk?”

  “What would you like to talk about?”

  The poor guy looked lost. He was attractive, but I was not interested. He looked over at his friend, the man I had met earlier. “Oh, there’s Carl,” he said. “It was nice to meet you. Or not meet you, I suppose.”

  He quickly walked away, leaving his friend behind. The tall man in the tailored suit that gave him a very movie-star look smiled at me. He stepped forward and took the spot Brad had just vacated. “Nice,” he said with a laugh.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Nice?”

  “Usually, Brad is the one scaring off the ladies,” he said in a rich baritone voice that totally matched the image of him in his suave suit.

  That made me smile. “I’m hard to scare.”

  “I see that.”

  “Brad has a very healthy ego, doesn’t he?” I asked.

  He slowly nodded. “He does. I’m not sure you remember me. We met the other day at your office. I’m Lukas Constantino.”

  Lukas. I thought it was his name, but honestly, our abrupt meeting had left me a little speechless. And brainless. He was the kind of man that could literally take your breath away with one tilted grin. Those eyes. Those eyes were crazy. I swore they changed from blue to green right before my very eyes.

  “I’m River Owens.”

  “I know,” he said with a smile.

  I was guessing the man had some Italian in him. Maybe Greek. He had the kind of body painters and sculptors loved to put into their art. I could just imagine how sexy he looked unclothed. I imagined hard lines. Olive skin. My eyes dropped once before quickly meeting his again.

  He’s a professor, River. Off limits.

  “I take it you figured out what that envelope was,” I said with a small laugh.

  He grinned with his eyes flashing. “I did. I’m not used to getting mail at my office. I assumed it was yours. It was on the floor.”

  “Not mine,” I said for lack of anything better to say. I felt like he was flirting with me, but then I was like, not possible. Look at him and then look at me. He was the kind of man that would be used to having tall, leggy blondes on his arm. Not a petite, slightly plumpish brunette type.

  “Not yours,” he replied. I got the feeling he was enjoying this. I had been slightly cocky to his friend
and now he was doing it to me. It was unnerving me just a little.

  “Why aren’t you used to getting mail?” I asked him.

  “My mail is usually delivered to my classroom because no one knows I’m in your building,” he answered. “Our offices went through some renovations. We were all scattered across the campus. I’ve been a little late to the moving back thing.”

  I slowly nodded. “I see.”

  “Can I refresh your drink?” he asked.

  I looked down at the wine in my glass and nodded. “Sure, please. Maybe your friend was right. I could use something a little more.”

  “A little more what?” he teased.

  “Exciting.” I laughed.

  “Coming right up.”

  I walked with him to the open bar. I let him choose the drink for me. Sadly, I wasn’t all that up on cocktails. I drank wine or beer. Sometimes champagne. It had been a while since I was out at the club trying to order something cool and cheap.

  “Here you go,” he said and handed me a drink with two red straws.

  I took a tentative sip and nodded. It was good. Not too strong. “Thank you.”

  “This is going to sound cheesy, but do you come to these things a lot?” he asked.

  I wrinkled my nose. “My first. You?”

  “First time,” he said. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to come at all.”

  “Me either,” I said as we slowly made our way around the room and found ourselves against a wall away from everyone else. “Why didn’t you want to come?”

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure I would have much in common with anyone.”

  “Are you a professor here at the university?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you have that in common.” I laughed. “We all are. What do you teach specifically?”

  “Business and finance,” he answered easily. He seemed proud of himself.

  I cringed before I could stop my face from essentially saying eww. “Oh,” I said to try and quickly cover my initial reaction.

  He laughed. “What does that mean? Oh?”

  I grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything bad.”

  “You meant something by it,” he said with a shy smile.