A couple of hours after our little morning session, I send Clara an email.

Clara, How would you feel about having a very inappropriate dinner with your professor? We can call it a date, so long as you promise to call me Daddy afterward.

I’m smiling the whole time. I end the message with my phone number and hit send, feeling strangely nervous.

I know it’s stupid. I’m like a kid again, excited about every little kiss, every little moment. I want Clara and I’m going to have her, and I don’t give a fuck that there are things standing in my way.

Even that little twerp, Howard. I clench my jaw, sitting in my office. He’s such a little turd, and he’s an asshole to Clara, and he almost caught us… but he’s talented. I hate it, but he really is.

I could still use him, as least for now. I don’t have a good reason to get rid of him that won’t look suspicious, even though I want to. I know he’s a dick to Clara and maybe that should be reason enough, but unfortunately, I think he’s starting to suspect something.

I’ll have to be careful with him. So, for the time being, it’s business as usual.

At least until Clara responds to my email.

I’d love to. Meet outside the lab? Along with her cell number.

I smile to myself and send her a text. See you there at eight.

She responds right away. See you then, Daddy.

I’m grinning like a moron. Seriously, I’m like a fucking little kid again.

The day can’t pass fast enough. I grade some papers, prep some notes for my next lecture, and have office hours. A couple of students even stop by this time, although I’m distracted and can’t wait for them to leave.

It’s not their fault. I’m just not interested in them. I’m only interested in Clara these days.

After that, I head home, get changed, and I’m outside of the lab five minutes early.

Of course, Clara’s already there. I’m grinning as I approach her.

“I should’ve known you’d already be here,” I say.

She smiles bashfully. Tight jeans, slim sweater, light jacket. Hair pulled up into a messy bun. “I like to be on time.”

“You like to be early,” I say, and nod down the street. “Shall we?”

She bites her lip and nods.

“I hope you don’t mind walking a little bit,” I say. “It’s actually nice out tonight, so I figured we might as well.”

“I don’t mind,” she says. “Just so long as we don’t run into the dean again.”

I laugh at that. “I don’t think we will, but you never know.”

“Are we going somewhere far off campus?”

“Not really,” I admit. “There’s this little Italian place nearby, it’s a hole in the wall, but it’s really good. Expensive, so I’m betting most students and teachers don’t bother going inside.”

“Perfect,” she says, grinning. “I’ll put that fortune of yours everyone’s always talking about to the test.”

I laugh. “Go ahead, get what you want.”

“One of everything. Two lobsters, actually.”

“You just have to eat it all.”

She makes a face. “I wouldn’t challenge me, or else you’re not seeing me naked for weeks.”

“Please, we both know you couldn’t stick to that.”

“The food? I totally could.”

“No, keeping your hands off me.”

She grins and shrugs. “I have very good self-control.”

“Liar. You’re practically salivating at the thought of kissing me right now.”

“I’m salivating at the thought of two lobsters. You’re just dessert.”

I laugh at that again, and I want to hold her hand, but I stop myself. We’re still in dangerous territory right now, and it’s better if I don’t take any needless risks.

The restaurant is called Angelo’s. It takes another ten minutes of walking, but for some reason that time just slips past as we joke and laugh together, heedless of the danger we’re in.

Inside, the warmth brings a flush to Clara’s cheeks. I give the hostess our name and kiss Clara softly, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You’re the hottest date I’ve had in a long time,” I say.

She grins at me. “I doubt that.”

I shrug. “Think what you want, but you’re a fine piece of ass, Clara.”

She rolls her eyes, still smiling. We follow the hostess back to a little table situated in a back corner, the one I specifically requested. I slip the girl a fifty, as promised over the phone a few hours ago.

Clara settles in and I order wine. Once it arrives, we toast.

“To our first date,” I say.

“To dating my professor,” she adds. “And hopefully not getting caught.”

I laugh and sip the wine. Clara makes it taste amazing.

“How’d you find this place?” she asks me. “I’ve been going to Monray for years now and I’ve never noticed it.”

“My Google-Fu is strong,” I say simply.

“Of course it is. You’re a computer nerd, after all.”

“What do you think you are?”

She shakes her head. “Oh, no. It’s cool when a girl’s into computers.”

“That’s what all the computer girl nerds say.”

“Plus, I’m young. Computers are cool now.”

“So that makes me cool, too.”

She sighs like she’s lecturing her stupid grandfather. “No, no, you don’t get it. Computers were dorky and lame back when you were into them, like, a century ago.”

I glare at her. “I’m not that old.”

“Whatever,” she says, waving me off, grinning maliciously. “The point is, all the dorks went into computers back then. Now, though, cool people get into networking and CS. So all the current computer nerds are actually… awesome.”

“Sounds like a really complicated denial,” I say.

“Think what you want.”

“Honestly, if we’re on this topic, I’m going to lay out some beef.”

“Oh yeah? Beef?” She waggles her eyebrows. “Do you know what that means, grandpa?”

I ignore her. “Your generation is insane, you know that? You guys are all so willing to dump all your personal info online, you don’t care what these big companies are doing with any of it. And then we all find out, oh, gasp, Facebook and Google are selling every single detail about your life! And you’re all outraged, as if you guys didn’t let it happen.”

“Your generation built this mess,” she points out. “We were just born in it. All this is just… the way things are.”

I sigh a little. “Yeah, I know. Each new generation gets used to the shitty mistakes of the last. I just hoped you guys might start solving problems instead of embracing them.”

“You’re too jaded,” she says. “My generation is solving problems, but unfortunately we’re saddled with so much student loan debt and so little opportunity that we can’t really do all that much. Thanks, baby boomers, by the way.”

I roll my eyes. “Please. You’re living in a freaking utopia. I mean, being born American is like the luckiest thing possible.” I hesitate a second. “And I’m technically Gen X”

“I’d rather be born Swedish, or Canadian, or Australian, or any other modern country that guarantees healthcare,” she says, ignoring the Gen X bit, of course.

I sigh. “Now we’ve gotten too far off topic.”

She smiles at me, reaches across the table. I take her hand in mine and she squeezes it.

“Listen, grandpa. It’s okay. I know you’re too old to get these newfangled ideas.”

I grin viciously and lean closer. “First of all, it’s Daddy.” She blinks, a little surprised. “And second of all, you think any of this is new territory? We’ve been fighting for all this stuff for a long time.”

“Okay, okay,” she says softly, smiling back. “I get it.”

“Good. You need to learn to respect your elders.”

“How am I supposed to do that? The only elder I ever spend time with is constantly trying to get in my pants.”

I laugh and release her hand. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at you, parading it all over town.”

She rolls her eyes. “Please. I’m only parading it for you.”

I stare at her for a second. “Damn right,” I say softly, and the waitress comes over to take our orders.

She doesn’t get the double lobster, which I’m a little disappointed in. But that doesn’t matter, because the conversation continues to flow right up through dessert.

Two hours melt away. Just like the walk, it’s like time doesn’t exist, or maybe it just works differently when I’m around her.

She’s like a black hole, but instead of terror, she makes me feel nothing but excited.

It’s strange. I should be afraid of this. I mean, sitting here, having dinner with her like a normal person, it should be fucking terrifying.

This is an enormous risk for both of us.

But I think I can handle it if something goes wrong. Clara, though, I don’t know.

I’m terrified that if something bad happens, it’ll ruin her reputation. I can come back from something like this, maybe not as strong as before, but still I can come back.

Clara though, she’s so young. She’s just starting out. She doesn’t have my resources, my established friendships, any of that.

I don’t know what she’ll do if something goes wrong.

It keeps me up at night with worry. But right now, I can’t let myself succumb to it.

I pay the bill and we linger over drinks. She smiles that bright smile of hers, the one that drives me wild. I feel a thrill run in my stomach.

It’s the way she tosses her hair, the way she laughs, loud and deep. I love making her laugh. It’s intoxicating.

She cocks her head. “Ready?” she asks finally after we’re both finished with the wine.

I’m not ready. I don’t want this to end. “Ready,” I say.

We get up from the table and head toward the entrance.

And I stop in my tracks.

Standing at the entrance are three older men, graying hair, pale skin, tweed jackets. They’re each the perfect image of cliché professordom. I recognize all three: Lunden, Wilkins, and Horn.

“Just smile,” I say softly to Clara.

She frowns up at me. “What?”

“Smile,” I say again, and go to greet the professors. “Gentlemen!” I say.

The three of them turn to regard me. Clara lingers behind, smiling a big smile, like she was paid to do it.

“Turner,” Wilkins says. “How are you tonight?”

I shake their hands. “Good, good. Gentlemen, would you like to meet my best student?” I gesture at Clara and she steps forward. “This is Clara Nelson, a very promising young lady.”

“Nice to meet you,” Wilkins says awkwardly. The other two just smile and nod like morons.

“Hello, professors,” she says.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” I say. “Good night.”

The men all nod and I move past them with Clara in tow. We hurry out onto the street.

“Oh my god,” Clara says, eyes wide. “I know them. I mean, I’ve seen them before.”

“Calm down,” I tell her. “It’s okay.”

“They know. I mean, how can they not? It’s so obvious.”

“Clara, it’s okay,” I say, taking her hands. “Seriously, listen to me. They have their own problems.”

“What?” She bites her lip.

“Wilkins is cheating on his wife, Horn’s been stealing from the university for years, and Lunden has so many accusations of sexual misconduct against him that I doubt he even understands what it means to have a normal relationship with a woman.”

Clara just stares at me. “Isn’t this what we were most afraid of?”

I shake my head. “No, not really. I mean, yes, but these guys…” I trail off.

“Just because they’re assholes doesn’t mean they’re going to ignore this.”

I take a breath and let it out. “Come on,” I say, walking toward the center of town.

“Where are you going? Jason, hold on.”

I get lucky. I spot a cab up ahead and practically spring to catch it, knocking on the door to get it to stop. The guy grumbles something as I hold the door for Clara.

She climbs in. I give the cabbie my address.

“Seriously, Jason,” she says.

“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her.

We sit in silence for a minute as the cabbie drives toward the address.

“Where are you taking me?” she asks finally.

“Back to my place,” I say softly. “I think it’s time I took you home.”

She looks surprised and bites her lip, but she doesn’t argue.