Chapter Two
Hazel walked down the hallway with her palms sweating. She was shaking a little from the proximity to Dr. Cartwright. He was so damn tall and so damn sure of himself. More than that, her adrenaline had already been going from her altercation with Chris. Why did Cartwright have to let that guy run wild? It was really the worst part of the class—watching a man that she respected otherwise (even if their business ideals didn’t align) let the guys in the class get away with murder.
Or, if not murder, at the very least, wasting the other students’ time and tuition dollars with sexist garbage.
Wiping her hands on the front of her jeans, Hazel shifted her bag and jogged toward the bus stop. Normally, she would walk across campus, but she was too tired to bother. It was never a good sign when one class got her so worked up that she couldn’t function most of the day. Trying to calm down, after she’d gotten a seat on the bus, Hazel opened the little vial of rock salt and lavender that she wore around her neck as a pendant and took a deep breath. She didn’t know if stuff like this actually worked. Her stepfather, Steve, made fun of her for keeping stuff like that around. But it smelled nice, and she figured if people could cure their colds with a placebo cocktail of vitamins and sucrose, she could treat her anxiety with pretty smelling oil.
Just that morning, Hazel had been thinking about dropping the class. If she were honest with herself, her pro-con lists on the matter were mostly con. The only major benefit that she could think of was not having to explain to Cartwright why she wanted to leave. That was the odd thing about how most people perceived Hazel. It was like they thought they knew her—had put her into a type based on a few interactions. But getting into arguments and standing up for people in the moment was a far cry from the self-determined heroine so many had cast her as. While most of her teachers and friends would say she was a confident, almost headstrong woman, Hazel knew that she would avoid confrontation whenever she possibly could. She stayed at jobs longer than she wanted to, she put up with far more from her brothers than a normal human being might, and she really, really didn’t want to have to tell Cartwright that she wanted out of the class.
This offer to work for him was even worse. At some point, she would have to go into his office and tell him no. She took another deep whiff of her lavender before screwing the top back on and pulling the line for a stop. Giving the bus driver (Ron) a wave, Hazel headed off to the bus right on the edge of Campus Corner.
The area wasn’t officially run by the university, but there was a slew of businesses set up right by the college, since a student customer base was built into the location, and they could get even more business on game days. Hazel tended to avoid campus on those days but visited after almost every class. She spotted her roommate, Natalie, through the window of the Terra Café and hurried inside.
“Hey! How was Professor Hotpants today?” Natalie asked with a smug grin.
“Let me catch my breath. God, Nat. Not everything is about catching a man.” Hazel picked up a menu.
“Don’t bother hiding. I ordered for you already.”
Hazel narrowed her eyes at her.
“What? You always order the same thing, and I owe you for last week when my debit card got stolen.” Natalie snatched the menu from Hazel’s hands. “So your nasty banana/kale smoothie with a shot of hemp protein is coming, as well as that weird fake chicken salad sandwich you love.”
“It’s delicious. You can’t even tell it isn’t chicken.”
“You make me die inside. And it makes me wonder how bad a cook your mom is, if you think that’s what food is supposed to taste like.”
“My mother never cooked. She can heat up frozen stuff, but that’s about it.”
“I swear to God, next week, we have to go somewhere I can get a burger.”
Hazel slammed her palms on the table. “Burgers are terrible for you and the environment!”
“Could you be more annoying? I came here for vicarious leering at your hot professor. I don’t know why you have to deny me.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. She was starving, and there was no way that she could get Natalie to change the topic until she was satisfied, so Hazel began to relate her day in as much agonizing detail as possible. Eventually, after their food had come and Hazel had gotten through her story without too much interruption (though Natalie said as she always did that Chris could use a good pegging), Hazel finally felt her insides settling, and she munched contentedly on her side carrots in between bites of not-chicken salad.
“I know you don’t wanna hear this, kiddo,” Natalie said.
“Again, I’m only a year younger than you.”
Natalie pointed a forkful of loose tuna salad at Hazel. “You need to take that internship, or whatever it is Cartwright is offering you.”
“Are you kidding? Why would I subject myself to that?”
Natalie ate the bite of tuna and then held out her fingers to count on them. “For starters, he’s a dish, even if he’s an asshole, and I want to hear everything you get on him—”
Hazel started to protest.
“But second, you also need to be developing your connections, Miss Save the World Businessgal. Third, after you’ve made your connections with him and whoever you’re able to work with at his company, he will almost certainly write you a letter of recommendation for a job or graduate school. And fourth, you know as well as I do that it’s harder than ever to get a job without already having experience, and this would give you that, in spades. Who’s going to say you’re underqualified after you worked for Ian Cartwright?” Natalie stole a baby carrot. “No one, that’s who.”
“Why do I let you boss me around?”
“Because I’m cute. And I’m always right.”
Hazel sipped her smoothie and thought about that for a moment. Hazel liked to think of herself as practical, but sometimes her principles did get in the way of pragmatics. Natalie was the kind of girl who was unapologetic about the things she wanted and how she went about getting them. Hazel often wished she could be that way—just going out and demanding what she wanted. And more than that—not feeling bad about having wanted something more than what she had. Maybe it came from being a twin, as well as the only girl. There were times when her brothers were given things so easily, but her mother would deny her the same treats and give her more chores. She hadn’t seen her real father in years. Steve was a dick, but at least he was around after getting her mom pregnant. It seemed like whenever she asked too much of her father or made him feel like she needed him, he pulled away even further. Rationally, guilt wasn’t a functional emotion, but Hazel had never been able to rational her feelings.
They just were. Ever-present and beyond her control.
“I guess I’ll think about it. There’s good for my career and good for my sanity. This would definitely be the former, only,” Hazel said.
“Get a better shrink and take the job.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “Who needs another shrink when I have you?”
“Exactly.” Natalie waggled her brows. “I’m gonna go get one of those suspiciously good vegan brownies, and you’re gonna share it with me.”
Hazel took a napkin and wiped the mustard from her sandwich off her fingers. Could she do this? Could she force herself to spend so much extra time out of class with Ian Cartwright? She had to admit that he was incredibly easy on the eyes. He got her pulse up, and not always because she was angry. But he was such… what was the word?
A corporate dick. He was everything she fought against every day of her life, and she wasn’t sure why he would ever want to work with her. Sure, he’d said it was because of her GPA, but Hazel had a hard time believing that she was the only overachiever in the class.
What did he really want from her? The thought made her start to shake all over again.
***
After class, Ian had called a car to return to his office at the edge of town. He’d prefer to drive to campus, but given the parking situation, and the abysmal driving skills of the faculty and staff, Ian would prefer to sacrifice comfort and keep his baby from getting scratched all to hell.
As matters stood, though, the twenty-five-minute gap in his schedule when he rode in the back of his driver’s town car had become an anticipated break in his daily routine. Otherwise, Ian was scheduled down to the minute, with time in the office before and after classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, conference calls with the offices overseas on Wednesdays, and full days of meetings on Monday and Friday, unless he found himself traveling over the weekend. If he did not, he spent time on his book, which was proving more intractable than those he’d already published.
Truthfully, the semester had been a lot more intense than Ian had been expecting. He’d expected a few hours of work on class days, with the rest of his time devoted to managing the onsite business. It was a PR slam dunk, offering himself to the business program of Peachtree University, where the latest arm of Cartwright & Benton Industries had settled. There was an automatic connection there, with his business offering scholarship for business degrees and internships based on merit and need. But he’d found himself devoting a lot of his time upfront to planning semester activities once he’d met the student and discussed their expectations for the class, and that had gotten him behind on everything else. As it turned out, teaching was harder than he’d thought.
Ian took a deep breath and reached for his water. He let the car’s cool air wash over him. He could handle most facets of this loud city, but the heat drained him the most. He was more accustomed to the weather in the northern cities of the United States, and if he had his preference, he would have stayed in the holdings in England and Europe. Thank God for AC.
As the car slowed down in the traffic, Ian let his thoughts drift. What he would do first when he returned to the office, his to-do list at the penthouse, whether he ought to schedule another trip up north to check on the holdings in New York…
Unconsciously, his mind returned to the classroom. Hazel’s strident, offended voice… the way her breasts rose and fell with her angry breaths, exposed on both the top and sides by her tank top. One benefit of the weather: Ian could look forward to seeing those breasts bouncing for half the semester. Hazel was sexy in an entirely unaware way. She didn’t think of herself as something to be seen, and so didn’t act as though she knew she might be watched. The way she leaned over, and the gap between her tank top and her bra, allowed a clear view of her breasts… When her jeans slipped, and one could see the frilly edge of her Wonder Woman panties… It all both intriguing and infuriating. She didn’t want to be looked at, probably. Not with the way she acted, but it was oh so difficult not to want to look.
Ian closed his eyes and smiled at the thought of this gorgeous, untamed creature coming to his office on a daily basis, coming along on business trips, and hovering by his side and taking notes. Oh, he could see it. He could practically taste it…
Ian wondered if he’d demand better choices in clothing, or whether she’d show up in his office the first day spilling out of another tank top and her bare legs sticking out the bottom of a short skirt. He licked his lips, thinking of how he might discipline her. He could take her on his knee, squeezing her sides, and scold her. While he gave her the verbal lashing she deserved, he might bounce his leg just a little, rubbing his leg against the crotch of those silly panties of hers.
She’d moan, quivering, and that would be the time to remove her tank top. He would look at her for a moment, fully take in the look of her body in that bra, before he unfastened the back and let her breasts go free, to sway as he continued to tease between her legs.
Hazel would rise, so hot and bothered that she couldn’t let him continue, and hold onto his shoulders as she slipped her skirt back and her panties down. He would unbutton his pants, and with a grunt, sheath himself inside of her. She would be ready for him, wet and warm and hungry, rocking her hips against him as she moaned for more. Of course, he would have to give it to her. His young little apprentice, with her rosebud lips and torn clothing.
He would make her shriek in delight and shake until she collapsed in his arms. He would addict her to his touch and come inside her tight, waiting cavity, with his hands clenching her firm backside and her nipples pressed against his chest.
Ian opened his eyes with a sigh. If only. He would have to unwind Hazel quite a bit before he managed to get this one in his bed, not that he could do anything of the sort. She was a student, and he wasn’t looking for a scandal just to wet his wick. Still, he entertained himself with the thought of removing her clothing and pinching that ripe little body of hers until his driver, Randy, pulled up at the building.
“Thank you, Randy,” Ian said before heading to his private elevator. There, he pulled out his phone to check his messages.
Hazel had sent him a message from her school account.
Dr. Cartwright,
Again, thank you for your generous offer this afternoon. I’d like a little more information before committing myself. What, specifically, would be my duties? How often would I need to be in the office with you? (So that I can coordinate with my work schedule). Would this position conflict with my work-study scholarship, or replace it? Any other information that you could give regarding the position would be helpful.
I await your reply and thank you for your time.
Hazel Rosalie Greenwood
Ian almost laughed out loud. She was so polite and proper over email. He would have to refer some of her questions to his accounting department, since he had no idea what the work-study was, let alone why it would interfere with another job. He would, however, put them on that right away and have them start her paperwork.
That she was asking boded well for him. He had her. She would say yes.