Thief .(83)
Sitting next to her brought the sensation of diving headfirst into the aforementioned lilies. She wasn’t wearing too much perfume by any means, but what she had sprayed on was severely dangerous to my brain.
The meeting better start soon or I can’t be held responsible for what I do next.
“What are your thoughts on James Joyce?” she asked as more teachers shuffled in.
Her question caught my lily-obsessed mind off-guard.
“Uh...”
“You’ve read him, yes?”
I could read the look on her face as she read the look on mine. I had never read him, and she could clearly read that on my face.
“Oh my God,” she said under her breath. I couldn’t tell whether she was mortified or repulsed.
“There are plenty of authors, April. I haven’t had a chance to get to them all!” I said, feebly trying to defend myself.
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “No. That doesn’t fly with me.”
My mind was trying to race through a list of authors I had read, ones I thought maybe she hadn’t.
“Well, what about Michener? Have you read him?” I asked.
She looked at me with a look of incredulity. And then she laughed.
“Are you asking me if I have ever read a Pulitzer Prize winner?”
Shit.
“You’re going to have to try a little harder with me, Luke.”
God, I loved this woman.
“What about Joseph Conrad?”
More snickers.
“Heart of Darkness, Nostromo. Come on, Luke.”
The meeting started, and we had to stop. But my mind continued. I started compiling a list in my head of authors that I could try to use against her. I wasn’t about to lose this easily. I paid attention to nothing that was said during the meeting. A passing mention was made about my return, I think. But my mind was occupied.
As soon as we got out into the hallway and started our walk together to our classes, I picked up again where we had left off.
“D.H. Lawrence?”
“Lady Chatterley’s Lover. I read that in high school because I thought it would be particularly scandalous. It wasn’t what I expected.”
“E.M. Forster?”
She actually stopped when I said his name.
“Any person worth a damn has read Howard’s End. Fact, Luke.”
I glanced around quickly to make sure no one was around to hear the “damn”. Thankfully, no one was on our end of the hallway.
“Less casual swearing in the hallway, ma’am. You don’t want to get fired before you even get hired.”
“Are you going to turn me in?” she asked, and I could have sworn she batted her eyes.
“No ma’am,” I said, knowing that even though I wasn’t a blusher, I was probably blushing now. She was sultry.
“There you go with that ‘ma’am’ shit again,” she said, putting very clear emphasis on the word “shit”. She wasn’t going to back down.
“Are you normally this defiant?” I asked, wanting to jump her right there in the hallway and claim her neck and every other part of her as mine.
She shook her head, slightly.
“I guess you just bring out the best of me,” she said.
With that, she turned, and walked into her classroom, giving me a splendid look at her ass.
When did I become an ass guy? Better yet, when did I become the kind of guy who had the hots for a married coworker?
Classes may have started but that didn’t keep us from communicating. I felt a little childish for basically texting her as soon as I sat down at my desk.
Wharton...
I figured I could judge by the amount of time it would take her to answer whether or not she was looking the author up. Even if she had read it, if she took a while I would just assume so and hold it against her.
Her response was immediate.
I thought we already discussed you asking me about Pulitzer winners? ;-)
Dammit. Age of Innocence.
I needed someone who hadn’t received any significant awards. Time for a curveball.
Collins.
Who?” she asked. Then followed with, Jackie Collins? Do you take me for a reader of trashy novels?
No, not Jackie. Suzanne.
I’m not familiar with that name.
This time I was shocked.
If you tell the students that, they might lynch you.
Why? What did she write?
Oh, just this little series about games. And hunger.
Huh?
The Hunger Games!
Oh God. I think I knew that.
And you haven’t read the series??
No sir...you can’t judge me for not reading a book written for teenagers.
Sure I can, if you are working with teenagers. Which you are!
Well, that didn’t happen until just recently! Are you giving them your seal of approval?
How should I know? You think I’ve read them?? ;-)
God, you’re such an ass. Stick with classics, Luke!