Teacher's Pet Complete Series (22 page)

I sat up in bed despite the pains that I felt and the topsy-turvy feeling in my head. I looked around and realized the room was in a shambles. There were panties on the floor, heels scattered around, Bobbi’s bra on the vanity mirror, straps hanging into the makeup. My skirt from last night was hanging over the wardrobe door. Basically our room looked like a yard sale.

I slid closer to the mirror, hanging on the door. It reflected a stranger's face; a horrid and hung over mess that was once considered attractive, with dark circles under the eyes that were puffy to the touch. And a rat's nest of hair that stood on end.

As soon as I set my foot to the floor, someone knocked on the door, beating like a drum in between my ears, sending bad signals to my brain. “Hello,” a voice shouted from the hall. It didn’t sound familiar, but then again my head was fuzzy. I probably wouldn’t recognize my own voice.

“What the hell?” Bobbi said as she stirred from her sleep, her bare thighs retreating back beneath the covers. She sat up from the floor with her hand on her forehead, swooned a little and lay back down. “I feel like shit in a bowl and someone just handed me a spoon.”

Sonja hadn’t moved until the third round of knocks, then her eyes slammed open. She was pissed. “Ugh,
mamu ti jebem
!”

I didn’t know what that meant, but what I did know was I didn’t want to be whoever it was at the door. Sonja got up, put on a t-shirt, nearly slid across the room and flung the door open as if to rip it off the hinges. There was a woman standing there. She looked to be in her early to mid-fifties, with short blonde hair, cut close on the sides, blue eyes, slim, in a turquoise dress. Everything about the woman screamed wealthy.

“So this is the place where my son puts his career on the line?” She glanced around the room, looking disgusted with what she saw.

“Excuse me,” Sonja said indignantly. “Who are you?”

The woman shot Sonja a sideways glance then quickly looked away. She wouldn’t keep her eyes on her for long, almost like it was painful to her, or maybe more like she was nothing. She then swept the rest of the room, and for a moment gave Bobbi the once-over before she laid her eyes on me.

“Which one of you…
ladies
goes by the name of Lynora?”

All three of us looked at each other. I slowly raised my hand like I was a kid in elementary class and needed my teacher’s permission to go the bathroom.

“Well, hello, Lynora. I’m Caroline Foster, Simon’s mother. I’d walk over to shake your hand, but frankly this room looks like a bomb hit it and there are several places on the floor where I would not dare to step. I hope you understand.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what to say to her beyond “Hello, nice to meet you.” And that was truly it. My dragon breath could melt the makeup right off the front of her face.

“Well, I’d like to speak to you if you don’t mind, Lynora, regarding yourself and my son, of course, so if you wouldn’t mind getting yourself together I’ll be waiting outside on the bench by the tree. You can meet me out there when you’re ready.”

“All right, give me… twenty minutes.”

“Splendid.” Caroline turned on her heels and let the door close behind her.

“Shit!” Bobbi sat up, second attempt. “I didn’t see that one coming. Who would’ve thought Simon’s mother would show up. The woman looks like a sexier version of the first lady or something. Her shoes alone probably cost as much as my condo.”

“I think I have a lot more things to worry about than the cost of her shoes, Bobbi. Did you see the look on her face?”

“Sour,” Sonja chimed in. “I’ve seen that look on my mother’s face whenever she entered my little brother’s room; smells like rotten cheese.”

“Great!” That made me feel better. “Why today of all the days did she decide she needed to talk? She could’ve met me before or called me on the phone. Dropping in unannounced is just rude.”

“Speaking of that.” Sonja sat down on her bed and placed a pillow over her lap. “How did she get in here in the first place? You need a key to get through the door to the hall, and through the lobby you have to check in at the desk.”

Bobbi pulled back the sleeping bag and slowly got to her feet. Then she looked around, searching for her bra. “I have a feeling the lady can get into anywhere she wants, however she wants. She looks like she’s used to hobnobbing with powerful people.”

“What do you think she wants?” Sonja asked.

“My head on a stick, most likely.”

“Yup!” Bobbi found more pieces of her clothing—her skirt, her shoe, and now she was looking for the other. “That sounds about right. Put your head on a stick for the entire world to see. This thing with you and Simon just gets better and better.”

I walked outside in a simple flowered dress, past the grass to the student rest area where I’d talked to Simon once under the black oak tree. It was going to be the most appropriate place to talk to his mother or it could ruin a cherished memory.

Caroline was sitting on a white wooden bench, the kind set like a table with two places to sit on the side. She had a scarf underneath her, I assumed to protect her ass from the dirt that didn’t seem to be there. I slipped on the seat opposite her, tried to keep good posture and crossed my legs at the knees, trying to set an impression but doubting it worked.

“So now that you’ve gotten yourself all cleaned up, I’d like to properly introduce myself.” Caroline reached across the table and extended her hand. I couldn't help but notice her wedding ring. It was platinum, thickly banded, wrapping around her finger with small diamonds embedded all over it. And her engagement ring was at least ten carats. The sun shining on it was blinding. “Caroline Foster. Nice to meet you.”

Shaking Caroline’s hand felt formal, like when you greet people in business meetings, political rallies or luncheons. Nothing about this woman came across to me as warm. I had a feeling she wasn’t here to get to know me. “Lynora Minnelli, but most people call me Lynn. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Foster. So what brought you out here this early in the morning? By the look on your face this isn’t a social call.”

“Well, I can say one thing for you, you are perceptive. And you can call me Caroline; it’s easier that way. Mrs. Foster is my mother-in-law, and the old bat’s still alive and kicking. But you’re right. This isn’t a social call. Basically I’ve come here to assess the situation in regards to you and my son. When we spoke he said you two weren’t together anymore, and I would believe him under normal circumstances.”

“But?”

“But it was the tone in his voice when we spoke. You see, I pride myself on being an intuitive type, especially when it comes to my children, and my intuition tells me that my son wasn’t being forthcoming.”

“Which means?”

“I suspect Simon’s in love with you, Lynora. Oh, he’ll never admit it. True to form, just like his father, but I feel whatever’s happened between you two has knocked him completely off course. He’s being groomed for things you couldn’t possibly understand, and I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. I do understand. I’m not getting in the way of anything meant for Simon—if anything we’re on the same path. Did he tell you that I’m one of his students?”

Caroline shook her head. “No, he did not. But it doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

“Did he tell you I was his assistant? That I am top of my class and set to graduate soon with a major in economics and a minor in business? Did he tell you all that?”

She shook her head again but didn’t bother to answer. I figured she only spoke when she could win.

“I can assure you, Mrs. Foster, that it
is
over between Simon and I, so whatever your concerns are, not only are they unfounded, but I’m starting to feel a little offended with your approach.”

“Are you in love with my son?”

“Wait, what? Excuse me?”

“Simon, dear. Are you in love with him?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how this is any of your business.”

“Well, see now, that’s where
you’re
wrong, Lynora. You see, my children are my business. In fact, you could say as busy as I am, they are my main business. The only one that matters, and once, if ever, you have children of your own, you’ll understand exactly what I’m saying. And as a mother, your God-given right is to protect and take care of your children at any cost. Regardless of how old they are, regardless of if they want you to or not. It’s your job!”

“But he’s an adult, Caroline. He’s not a child anymore, I assure I you.”

“True. But what is also true is he is and always will be my child, and my only male child at that. And old ways or not, that still means something in this family. So that being said, I will consider this fling he had with you a little life lesson and a big mistake. He is a man, and being a man, he has a weakness for women. So now that I’ve spoken with you, Lynora, I know without a shadow of a doubt my son will come to the same conclusion as I just have. He’s a smart boy, but with matters of the heart he’s rather… challenged, if you will. He always has been.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say I was I was a mistake—”

“Now, now.” Caroline crossed her lips with her finger. “Shh, shh, shh, child. We don’t have to discuss this any longer. You will stay away from Simon from now on and we won’t have any issues going forward. Just like his father, that one; always waddling around in the mud, squealing and grunting like a runt pig. I guess I can’t blame him, now can I? The flaw in that boy seems genetic.” She sighed.

Caroline picked up her things—a white crocodile shoulder bag and the scarf she had over the bench—and dusted herself off like she was filthy. She extended her hand again. “It was nice to meet you, Lynora. You’re a nice girl, I’m sure. This wasn’t a personal thing, but Simon has dated much better in the past and I’d rather he continue to make strides going forward rather than taking steps back into the gutter. The immediate situation is we are having a party at my home soon, and bringing a date is not optional. You see, I had a fear he might bring you before we had a chance to meet, and that is something I just wouldn’t stand for. So now I’ll make sure he comes with someone I already had in mind. He’s a bit stubborn about it, but mother knows best.”

She turned to walk away. In the distance I saw a black SUV with a driver waiting by the door to usher her in. “Oh, and by the way. I’d like to thank you for not making this too difficult. The last time I had to ‘intervene’ in one of Simon’s trysts, I was forced to pay the girl off. It was a small sum, mind you; well worth it in every way to have that awful girl disappear. It takes a lot to nab a Foster man, and sometimes it costs more just to keep him around. I’m sure in a way I spared you some of that heartache. Take care.”

As I watched her step into her car assisted by the driver, her hand held by his to keep her balance, I noticed she didn’t look back. Not once to see if I was okay, if I had a smile on my face or if it crumpled into a frown. The lady really didn’t give a fuck about my feelings. And why should she? She didn’t know me. As far as she was concerned, I was just some floozy gold digger trying to get next to her son for dick or money.

I felt horrible inside. I was hung over, hadn’t had breakfast. I had to deal with Simon’s mother tearing me down first thing in the morning. I could see where he got it from: the ability to sever his emotions, the way he expected me to bow to his will, wrap around his ankles and kiss him on his feet. I’d show her who was worthy if I ever got the chance, and I’d be damned if I didn't show him too.

It was last week before graduation. I found myself spending my free period helping Simon catch up with all the grading he had to do before the end of the week while he interviewed for a new assistant to replace me for the next year. I was completely fed up with this job, to the point to where I could wrap it up in a neat little bow and pass it off to someone else in a heartbeat.

I was also completely done with the Fosters. Simon, his mother, Dane, who claimed he was but couldn’t possibly be Simon’s brother. The whole situation was giving me migraines. Something I’d never had before.

Giving up my job didn't bother me as much as I thought. Simon and I had been broken up for a while, and he needed someone to help him—as long as that someone wasn’t me. I was soon to graduate. So the fact that there were parades of little sluts lining up out the door after classes didn't bother me one bit, I needed to keep telling myself.

“Did you hear me?” Simon was in my ear.

“What? No, I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”

“I need you to get that stack of papers graded, and then the exams looked at so they can go back to the students for final study guides.”

I turned around and scowled at him. He wasn’t even looking at me when he barked those orders, not that I was surprised. He’d been avoiding eye contact for weeks.

Simon was at the podium rustling through some papers. Papers he didn’t need, because I organized them, so I knew. They were notes from today’s lectures, and today's lectures were over. The rest of the day was independent study and review for those that might need it.

I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on him as he walked. He was wearing lightly pressed khakis and a nice white shirt that clung to his chest like my body yearned to. I know, but I’m still human. I have irrational wants and ridiculous needs; if I come to regret them, so be it. His hair was done nicely today, freshly cut, a little swirly. I could smell his cologne, and its smooth, mellow spice as it lingered.

Simon turned and walked toward me like he could read my mind; he got behind my chair, looked over my shoulder and bent down toward my ear. I tensed when I felt the warmth of his breath brushing against my neck. He spoke but I couldn't make out what he said. For a moment memories came rushing back and I found myself wanting him to bend toward me and gently press his lips on my collarbone.