Billionaire Flawed 2(123)

Doesn't the age gap worry you? he asked.

Well, going out with an old man can have its advantages, she said.

If you're going to be cheeky I'll have to deal with you like I do my players.

And how is that?

Hard.

I'd like that, Lizzie said. There was a silence, and they looked into each other's eyes. The gaze seemed to go on for a long time until Sam leaned over to her, and kissed her gently on the lips.

Uhm, that tastes good, she said.

Better than the food, he replied.

So, how do you want to play this? Fast or slow? Lizzie asked.

Er...what do you mean?

Do you want me in your bed tonight or do you want to court me some more first?

Sam waved his fork around as if conducting an orchestra. You have a habit of asking difficult questions. What do you think?

That's unfair. You can't answer a question with a question.

I just did. What's you answer? he said.

Okay. Let me see. On the one hand, it would be wonderful to sleep with you now. On the other hand, it would be wonderful to let the tension build. What do you think?

Sam laughed. That's a great answer, that told me absolutely nothing at all. Okay, here's what I think. He looked around the restaurant as though checking to see no one was listening. I'd like to wait. Maybe it sounds old-fashioned, but I like the build up. Let's date a bit first.

I like that idea as well. Let's rack the tension up until we can't bear it anymore.

Is kissing allowed now?

Of course. That's part of the tension increasing process.







Thanks for coming Sam, Dean Lehman said.

Sam looked at the grave looking people sitting behind the table in front of him. The hall they were in was huge. Sam remembered it dated back to eighteen thirty and was the first room ever used at the university. It was more like the banquet hall in an English castle than a room for academics. There were many coats of arms on the walls, and flags hung down from the beamed ceiling.

Sam you know most of the people here. Collectively we are the people who make up the Ethics Committee here at Westchester, Dean Lehman said. He was a thin man of around sixty-five. His eyes appeared to be sunken inside his skull because his nose protruded so much. He also looked as if he needed a good meal.

Yes, I know everyone here.

Good. Then I'll get straight to the point. Sam it has come to our attention that you have a relationship with a student. What do you have to say?

Are you referring to Lizzie Samson?

Yes.

I have been seeing her regularly for around three months.

Is your relationship intimate? the Dean asked.

Is that any business of yours? Sam replied.

The policy of the university towards staff, student relationships, is quite clear Sam. If a member of staff enters into an intimate relationship with a student, he or she should declare it.

Alright. We are dating but out relationship isn't intimate yet.

If you are dating that means it's intimate. I'm not only talking about the bedroom. the Dean said. In that case, Sam, you should have told us.

Alright. I'm telling you now.

There is also a question of abuse of power. Let me give you an example. If a male member of staff who teaches, say mathematics, begins a relationship with a female student who studies, say English literature, there is little conflict of interest. That member of staff has no professional responsibility for the student and isn't able to influence the outcome of her studies. The Dean paused for breath and looked around the room. In your case, however, it's different. Lizzie was part of the sports scene here and you the head coach.

She was a cheerleader. That's got nothing to do with me as a football coach, Sam said abruptly.

You are the head coach here, you are responsible for everyone who has anything to do with football and that includes the cheerleaders. You were in a position of trust, and you abused it.

But now she's no longer a cheerleader, she hasn't been to the football field for weeks.

That isn't the issue. At the time you began your relationship, she was in your charge.

No she'd already given up being a cheerleader. What the hell was the Dean trying to get at, Sam thought? Lizzie wasn't a cheerleader when he'd asked her out.

Sam, we've spoken about the matter, and we've decided to suspend you on full pay for eight weeks. After that time, you will resume your role as head coach.

Sam sat in stunned silence. Do you know what I have done for this college? All the trophies I've won for you. We have one of the greatest names in college football, and all you can do is suspend me on a technicality. Well, fuck you. Fuck you all. Do what you have to do. See if I care. I resign.

Sam, there's no need to......

No, Dean, stick your job where the sun doesn't shine.





Sam, where are you? Please pick up, Lizzie said desperately. Why are you avoiding me?

Sam sat on the sofa and listened to Lizzie as she spoke into his answering machine. She'd rung countless times during the course of the afternoon. He looked at the empty whiskey bottle and groaned. How the hell had it come to his, he asked himself? A few weeks ago his team had been winning, and he was a happy go lucky single and well respected. Now he'd been accused of professional misconduct, and he was probably out of a job.