Shayna heaved her backpack onto the bed with a sigh then sat the bouquet on the tiny dining table that shared the single room with her bed. A television that doubled as a computer monitor and a chair completed her furnishings. She was back in her home of the last four years, a four hundred square foot studio apartment within walking distance of school. It wasn’t cheap, but the apartment was nice and the complex was safe with a pool and gym.
She flopped to her back on the bed, her arms outstretched and her feet on the floor. She hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep last night. In at two, up again at six to spend a few minutes with her parents before they left for work, then almost a four-hour drive from Vegas to Pomona. She debated taking a nap, but decided a swim would be better. It would perk her up, not take as long, and, most importantly, she’d be able to sleep tonight.
Tops laundered her uniforms, but she still had a few dirty clothes, which she tossed into the closet that hid her washer and dryer. She would take care of those later, along with her swimsuit. She was an avid swimmer, enjoying making laps in the pool for the exercise it gave her, but also, even more importantly, the clarity it seemed to bring. Now was a good time for swimming with most people at work or school, allowing her to get in her workout with minimum fuss.
Dressed in her black one piece with a vibrant red stripe up each side, she made her way to the pool. She was more concerned with function over sex appeal, but the red stripes did their job and highlighted her curves. She tossed her towel into a chair and kicked off her flip-flops, nudging them under the chair with her toe, before easing into the water.
She began to swim, pushing off from the wall with a firm kick. The pool wasn’t large, but it was big enough that she could make several strokes before having to turn for the return trip. As she swam, she let her mind wander, muscle memory taking over and her body going on autopilot to free her mind. As she stroked slowly and efficiently through the water she thought of school and the eight years of her adult life it had consumed. She was ready to get out, to start her career, and to have some time off. For the last eight years her life had consisted of two things: work and school. If she wasn’t working, she was at school, and if she wasn’t at school, she was working.
Now, with the completion of her final tomorrow, all she’d have to worry about was work. No, not work, a calling. The casino was work, but treating sick and injured animals? That was a joy and privilege.
She kicked off the wall again, spearing through the water before settling into her stroke. Once she was settled, maybe she’d finally have some time for herself, time to go out and do something fun, maybe even start dating. She’d been on dates, of course, but nothing steady. She was always so busy. She was looking forward to, what was it her friends called it…Netflix and chill. It must be nice to have someone special you could call and do…nothing. And let’s not forget the sex, her mind supplied. She wasn’t a virgin, but she wasn’t going to sleep with a guy just because they had dinner together. She wanted more than that.
She kicked off the wall again. She hadn’t been with a man since last summer, taking care of her needs alone in her bed. Not that she hadn’t had suitors. She’d had plenty of those, but they only seemed to be interested in one thing. Sex. That always seemed to be the undercurrent to any date she had. Not that she didn’t want to fuck, because she did, but she didn’t like how her dates always seemed to think that was the reason to date. If she didn’t put out after two or three dates, or she put them off because she had to study, they lost interest.
Another turn. Maybe that’s what she found so appealing about Beast. It’s still a stupid nickname, she thought as she stroked, her mind bringing images and thoughts up from the depths in random patterns. He wasn’t easily put off, and he seemed more interested in her as a person than as a potential sex partner. It didn’t hurt that he was panty-dampening gorgeous either.
He had sent her flowers – how he’d managed to pull that off she had no idea, especially since she hadn’t given him her last name or address. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had sent her flowers and, despite herself, she was flattered. Then he’d asked to take her to dinner, only, on a bet. He’d lost, but he’d taken it with good humor. He didn’t seem upset at all that after the promise of sex, she’d snatched the prize away. No name-calling, no pissing and moaning, only humor that he’d been so easily sucker punched. That was the thing she found most appealing about him. He was treating her as a person, not a collection of body parts for his pleasure and amusement.
Yes, if he asked again, she’d definitely let mister Conor…shit! I don’t even know his last name! No matter, she’d find out when he took her to dinner. She stopped swimming, breathing hard and wiping the water from her eyes. She smiled as she waded out of the pool. That’s the way of swimming. She had no idea how long she’d been in the pool, probably about an hour, but she felt great, energized, ready to face any task and with new clarity of thought. About her life…and today, about Beast.
***
She was trying to study, sitting at her table with her anatomy text open in front of her, but she was having a tough time of it. The problem was Beast. Every time she caught a glimpse of the flowers, Beast popped into her mind. Thoughts of him were like a Jack Russell Terrier jacked up on methamphetamine. She’d shove the thoughts aside, but they never stayed away for very long before they were back, yapping away and demanding her attention.
She leaned back in the chair and placed her hands on the top of her head as she sighed and tilted her head back with closed eyes to try to find her focus. She didn’t know why she was cramming. She was number three in her class, and if she didn’t know this shit by now, cramming wasn’t going to help. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling a moment. Maybe I just need to go take care of business. That’s the problem isn’t it? A gorgeous man paid attention to me, sent me flowers, and flattered me. She continued to look at the ceiling, wondering what he was like in bed, remembering how nice his kiss was, thinking about what else he could do with those lips.
She growled and pushed back from the table. “Damnit!” she hissed softly as she rose, moved to her bed, and pulled her little friend out from under her panties in the bottom drawer of the side table. She tossed the vibrator onto the bed and began to unbutton her shirt. She was still disrobing when her phone rang with the first few bars of Elvis Presley’s You’re Nothing But A Hound Dog.
She picked it up and looked at it. “Dr. Hench!” she said as she answered the phone. “What can I do for you?”
Dr. Stephan J. Hench was her professor this semester. He was older, about forty-five or so, but very handsome with his salt-and-pepper hair, large dark eyes, and long, skilled fingers. He was an excellent doctor and a terrific teacher who made his classes fun and educational. He seemed to genuinely care about his students and he displayed all the qualities that she liked in men. His classes were highly sought and all the women swooned over him, herself included.
“Shayna, I have something I would like to tell you. But not over the phone.”
She felt panic starting to set in. “Is there something wrong?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice calm.
He chuckled. “No, not at all. It’s actually very good news. Let me take you to dinner. When I tell you the news, you’re going to want to celebrate, I guarantee it.”
She was a bit flabbergasted as her mind tried to catch up. “Well, I…uh…sure. Where?” she asked, wondering what the news could be.
“How about the Pomona Pizza Parlor, around the corner from the school? Does that work for you?”
“Sure. I can be at P3 in about fifteen minutes.”
“Great. I’m still in the lecture hall, so I can meet you there in about fifteen.”
“Dr. Hench!” she called, not wanting him to hang up. “You can’t tell me what this is about?”
“I could,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, “but I want to see your face when I do. See you in fifteen.”
“Okay, see you there,” she said and then hung up. She stared at the phone a moment wondering what that was all about. She tossed her phone on the bed before she rebuttoned her shirt and picked up her brush to comb her hair out. If she was going to be meeting her professor, she wanted to look like something other than a ragamuffin.
She walked into the turmoil of Pomona Pizza Parlor, or P3 as the locals called it, twelve minutes later. It was a favorite of the staff and student body of Western University and was always packed around meal times. She looked around until she spotted Dr. Hench at a table in the back, marveling that he was able to get a table on such short notice. She worked her way through the crowd.
“Dr. Hench,” she said as she slid into the booth. “Will anyone else be joining us?” The table would seat at least six, eight if they were friendly, and it seemed a waste to have such a large table just for the two of them.
“Just the two of us. This is the only table they had open, so I told them I would take it. And, please, call me Steve.”
“Okay, Steve. What did you want to tell me?”
He laughed. “Are you in a hurry? Let’s order, then I will tell you the news while we wait on our pizza. What do you like?”
“Pretty much anything. I don’t like anchovies, but other than that, anything is fine.”
He waved a waitress over. “Large sweep the floor, house crust, hold the anchovies, and a pitcher of beer.”
“Be right out,” the waitress said, still writing as she moved away.
“So, are you ready to be a doctor?” he asked, leaning on his elbows on the table.
“Assuming I pass your test.”
He laughed. “If I thought that was going to be an issue, I wouldn’t be telling you this. You’re one of the brightest young women I’ve seen come through our program in a number of years. You have the gift.”
“The gift?”
“That innate ability, that certain something that you can’t teach. You have that, which is why I didn’t mind doing this for you.”
“Doing what?”
“I placed a few phone calls this week. I have an interview lined up for you with a friend of mine, Peter Lowerence.”
“Really?” she asked as her eyes widened.
“I did. He wants to meet you. And here’s the best part: he’s in Vegas.” He slid a card across the table with a name and number written on the back.
Shayna pulled the card to her then sat stunned into silence. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Dr. Hench! Steve. Thank you so much!”
“My pleasure, Shayna. I enjoy helping out my students. I believe in karma. What goes around comes around, pay it forward, and all that.”
“Then you must be living a charmed life!”
He smiled as he poured two beers from the pitcher then held his glass aloft. “To Shayna Shephard, may her nose always be cold and wet and her tail wagging.”
She giggled and gently clinked her glass to his. “Thank you again Dr…Steve. I can’t thank you enough.”
He smiled and nodded, but said nothing as their pizza was placed in front of them. They devoured the pie, talking about school and what had drawn her to be a DVM. When there were only three pieces left Shayna leaned back, burped slightly, and giggled.
“Excuse me! The pizza is working on me already.”
Steve poured another beer for her from their second pitcher. “Hair of the dog,” he said as he sat the container down.
“Oh, I couldn’t. Not only am I stuffed, but I have a test tomorrow, remember?”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, but if you want, we can do a quick brush-up tonight. I can’t tell you what’s on the test, of course, but I can suggest some areas to focus on.”
She smiled, but his comment came off as a bit strange. “No, but thank you anyway. I was hitting the books when you called, and I remember thinking that if I didn’t know the material by now, I was in deep trouble.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. I wouldn’t want anyone to accuse me of cheating.”
He nodded as he leaned back. “I understand. I’d probably fall asleep myself after all this pizza. Wouldn’t that start the tongues wagging? I need to walk off some of this pizza. Care to join me? I can walk you home.”
She didn’t need his protection, but she didn’t want to be rude either. “Thank you, Steve, that’s very kind.”
He picked up the ticket and began to slide out of the booth. “I’ve got this. My treat,” he said as she reached for her purse.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I invited you. What kind of a gentleman would I be if I invited you to dinner then made you pay?”
She stepped outside and took a deep breath, enjoying the warm California night. She still couldn’t believe that Dr. Hench, Steve, had recommended her for a position. Her life was coming together far faster than she dreamed possible. He stepped out of P3 and stuck his elbow out like an old fashioned movie star. She grinned and slipped her arm through the opening.
They slowly walked the five blocks back to her apartment, talking about themselves a little. Steve was very charming, telling her how he’d given up medicine in order to teach, and she was surprised to find out he was fifty-two, only a couple years younger than her dad.
Her apartment complex was gated, and they pulled to a stop at the gate. This was a good place to drop him off so he could walk back to school, or his car and not get any ideas. She’d enjoyed his company, but she still had a little studying to do, not to mention that nothing good could come from sleeping with her professor.
“Thank you, Steve, for dinner and the wonderful news.”
“It was my pleasure, Shayna. As I said, you have the gift. We need more people like you as DVMs.”
“Thank you for your help all semester. I’ve really enjoyed your class. You made it almost fun.”
He leaned in, obviously intending to kiss her. For the briefest moment she thought about letting him kiss her good night. She often allowed her date to kiss her good night, even on the first date, but somehow this felt wrong. He was just as handsome and charming as ever, but he was her professor and it felt forced somehow, almost as if he expected it. She pulled back, turning her lips away.
“I’m sorry!” he said as he backed away. “Forgive me. It must be the beer.”
She smiled as she took a half-step back, putting some distance between herself and Steve. “It’s okay. I don’t want there to be any questions, that’s all.”
“Yes. Completely understandable,” he said, the warmth gone from his voice. “Goodnight, Ms. Shephard.”
Shayna smiled and swiped the gate to open it, slipped inside, and closed the gate behind her. “Goodnight, Dr. Hench.”
He stood watching her as she walked away. He’d apologized, but he hadn’t sounded particularly upset or embarrassed. She glanced over her shoulder as she turned at the end of the walk. He was gone, but the memory of the look of annoyance when she’d pulled back and the lack of sincerity in his apology lingered.
As she unlocked her door she was still trying to convince herself it was a simple misunderstanding, but the nagging feeling that he was expecting something in return for his help remained. She entered her tiny apartment, tossing her purse into the chair, and snorted out a laugh. She’d forgotten to put her toy away when she’d bolted from her apartment. With a sigh she picked it up and put it away, no longer in the mood.
***
Shayna hated tests. She knew the material, and she knew she knew the material, but she still hated tests. She’d go through it quickly, answering all the questions she knew right away. Then she’d go back and puzzle over those she didn’t.
But then the agonizing would start as she read over the paper, looking for mistakes. Was she sure that was the right answer? She’d reread the question, looking for tricks or hidden gotcha’s. She was always one of the last to turn in her test, spending her extra time rereading the questions and answers, then going back to do it again.
It was an open book exam, so Dr. Hench wasn’t in the lecture hall, passing out the test, wishing them good luck, then disappearing into his office. He’d acted as if nothing had happened the night before, and she was glad for the small favor.
There were only two others still struggling with the test when, with a sigh, she gathered her two textbooks and paper, and walked into Dr. Hench’s office, handing him her test.
“Got a minute?” he asked.
She groaned to herself. “Sure.”
“Have a seat,” he said as he waved at a chair. “I thought you would want to know how you did.”
“I would. Thank you,” she said, keeping her voice as neutral as possible even though she was relieved that he wasn’t going to bring up last night.
She watched as he went over her test, circling something here, making a note there, each stroke of his red pen making her die a little inside. As he graded, the last two students turned in their tests. Finally, after an eternity he finished, counted back through, then wrote a number on top.
“Not bad,” he said as he handed her the paper.
She sagged in relief as she saw the score, a 92. She flipped through the test, looking at his comments and marks, grimacing at her mistakes. Drug interactions. I always screw up in the drug interactions!
“Have any questions?”
“No. I don’t understand why I always miss the same stuff!”
He chuckled as he took the test back from her. “Don’t worry about it. You think I can remember all this stuff? That’s what the PDR is for,” he said as he jerked his thumb at the thick Physician’s Desk Reference, the book for understanding drugs, that was sitting on the corner of his desk. “You got the stuff you need to know. Aaron better watch his ass or you’ll take his spot from him.”
“Thank you, Dr. Hench,” she said as she began to rise.
“Sit down a moment,” he said. “Let me enter your grade.”
He punched at his computer a moment, then his printer began to whir as a sheet of paper appeared. He pulled the paper off the printer.
“The school will send you your official transcript, but his will do to send in for your certification.” He placed the paper on his desk and signed it with a flourish. “Here you go,” he said holding the paper out to her.
She took the paper, grateful he was helping to speed her along. Maybe the previous night was a misunderstanding, after all. She tugged the paper, but it almost slipped from her fingers as he held it for a moment. She looked into his eyes, trying to understand what he was doing just as he let the paper go.
She took the paper and tucked it into one of her books. “Thank you, Dr. Hench,” she said as she rose, turning her eyes away.
“It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Shephard,” he said. “I hope to see you at graduation.”
“Yes, sir,” she said as she backed out of his office. He was starting to creep her out a little and she was anxious to get some distance between them.
Shayna carried another load of clothes down to her car. Why didn’t I think to bring a suitcase? She’d been so out of it Wednesday morning she’d left like it was another trip to school, not thinking that, after today, the next time she returned to her apartment would be to move out her meager furniture. She was paid up through the end of the month, seventeen days away, which should give her plenty of time to either find another place or rent a storage unit.
While her furniture would stay for a few more days, she wanted to take as many personal belongings as she could stuff in her little car. She didn’t have a lot, mostly clothes, but everything she could hump back to Las Vegas today would be that much less she’d have to pack and move at the end of the month.
She trudged up the steps for another load, her thoughts returning to Dr. Hench. She didn’t understand the change that had come over him. It was almost as if he was expecting something from her, but she was having a hard time reconciling his actions with how she perceived him.
If it had been anyone else, the answer to what he wanted, and why, would be obvious, but he’d made no move on her all year. On none of his students…that I know of, her mind supplied. He certainly didn’t have a reputation of chasing the students, but maybe that was because he played it smart.
She shook her head. Doesn’t matter now. I’ve got my transcript and a job interview. If he was expecting something in return for the recommendation, he should have gotten that up front. Not that I would have given it him, the slimy asshole.
She was amazed at how fast she’d gone from thinking he was a great man she admired, someone she might have allowed to bed her if he’d asked, to someone whose only sexual contact she’d consider was swift kick in the nuts.
Why did he have to ruin everything by making it seem like I’m obligated to sleep with him? Now that I’m out of school, if he’d asked me out a couple of times and allowed me to get to know him a little, I would have gladly let him take me to his bed. But no, Dr. Stephan J. Hench, DVM, is just another piece of shit who can only think with one head at a time. I should report his ass! But even as she thought it, she knew she wouldn’t. What would I say? “Dr. Hench makes me uncomfortable because he got me a job interview?” Except for the aborted kiss attempt, he hadn’t actually done anything, and he’d apologized for the kiss. No, it was better to just forget the whole thing. She’d dated creeps before.
She stacked dishes and glassware into one of the boxes she’d collected from school, layering the items with towels to prevent breaking. It’s funny how first impressions can be so wrong. I thought Beast was a player and someone I wouldn’t give the time of day. Yet he turns out to be the guy who sees me as a person, while my professor, a man I’ve admired all semester, is an ass-wipe.
She picked up the box with a soft grunt and carried it down the steps and shoved it into her car. Between her books, computer and printer, clothes, and the few boxes she had time to pack, her car was full enough. She’d planned on spending part of the time before her final packing boxes, but working Monday and Tuesday had prevented her from doing that. The tips had been worth it, though.
She smiled as she closed the trunk lid. Getting to know a little about Beast hadn’t been so bad either.