Page 20 of Bachelor

Jessica and Tyler looked at each other and turned away, walking slowly toward the next set of paintings hanging along the long white wall.

“So how’s your TA placement going?”

“Just fine. It’s a cakewalk.”

“Oh, good. That’s wonderful to hear. I knew you could handle it. I told Rhys—I mean, well, what do you call him?”

“Oh, uh, Professor Ellis.”

“Even as his TA? Aren’t the two of you on more casual terms now?”

My face heated, but I hid it well behind a calculated sip of my wine. “I mean, I guess so. I’m still a student, and he’s my superior.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed, blowing a raspberry. A waiter passed, and she snatched a glass of wine off the tray. “See, this is exactly why I knew you were the best option for his needs. You’re so professional! I couldn’t place him with some twit who was more interested in examining how well his pants fit when he demands so much of his students.”

My lips parted, but I had nothing to say to that.

She continued without missing a beat, “And to think he came to my office and demanded you be placed elsewhere. I had to talk him out of it. I told him he’d be missing out on the cream of the crop, the best Gatlington has to offer. Any other professor would have killed to be in his shoes.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I mumbled into my wine, taking a deeper sip.

“Anyhoo, I just wanted to check in and make sure you’re happy with the placement.”

“It’s been great, like I said.”

“Good.” She stared at me. I could almost see the questions dancing behind her eyes. When I said nothing further, she continued, “So what’s it like working with him? What’s he like?”

“Professor Ellis?”

“Who else?” she laughed.

“He’s pretty strict. His lectures are detailed, and his coursework is challenging but never tedious—”

“No, I meant, what is like towork with him? What do you talk about? What’s he interested in outside of lecturing about dinosaur bones or whatever?”

“He—He likes soccer—or football, as he calls it. That’s really all I know.”

She looked disappointed. “Such a shame. He walked me here tonight, did you know that?”

How would I have possibly known that? The thought alone made my chest tight with sudden jealousy even though I knew it was wrong.

“He took me on a little tour of the town. We stopped right outside the gallery and chatted for a bit, but that man is like talking to a brick wall. I’d love to get under his skin and see what’s there. How did you do it?”

“Do what?” I was beginning to feel uneasy in this line of conversation.

“You know.”

“I—I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

She sidestepped toward me, closing the distance between us, and whispered, “I mentioned you were in here. I could see you through the window, and when I said as such, he looked like he wanted to bolt. You got under his skin. How did you do it?”

“Are you asking me if my professor—If he and I—”

“Well, he’s not your professor anymore, is he?” She looked at me expectantly, blinking slowly like an owl.

I gaped at her. This definitely wasn’t right. “I think you misunderstand the nature of our relationship. There aren’t many graduate students here, Ms. Martins. Most of us are very close with our professors, but not like that. Never like that.” Oh, the lies that fell from my mouth.

She frowned deeper, rolling her eyes back to the painting. “What a shame. I was hoping you of all people could help me out here. I’m at a total loss as to what to do.”

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