Page 22 of Illicit Education
“Anything you want, sir.”
“Stella, look at me.”
She lifted her gaze.
“I trust you to take care of yourself, and to know your limits.” I paused, allowing my words to linger in the silence between us. “You are not without control, Stella. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Now, please, consider your answer before you respond.”
She nodded.
“Are you physically and mentally able to proceed with a public performance tonight?”
“Yes.” She looked up at me pointedly, not an ounce of doubt in her blue-gray eyes.
“Good.” I sighed. “Take the afternoon off to prepare, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter Eleven
Rylan
After popping into the seventy-third floor to say goodbye to Marisa, I made my way downstairs and stepped off the elevator into the lobby of Reed Tower, smiling as the sound of children playing and laughing echoed off the walls. The after-school crowd had converged in the library and play structure.
The strong scent of coffee teased my senses, luring me toward the coffeeshop in the corner. I’d put in eight hours today, but my day wasn’t over yet. On top of my best friend’s insistence on meeting me after work for happy hour–the girl used any excuse to celebrate, my first day at my internship no exception–I’d need caffeine fuel to get me through job hunting.
There were a few places I wanted to check out nearby, like a serving position at a little Greek restaurant and an evening nanny job on the Upper East Side, but none of them really excited me. Unfortunately, though, unpaid internships meant I needed a part-time job, and beggars couldn’t be choosers.
I approached the counter of the coffeeshop, grateful to find myself in the middle of a lull, and ordered a lavender latte, then paid the barista and moved to the other side of the counter to wait for my drink order. As I watched the girls behind the counter work, I considered their job. It was definitely fast paced, and it required them to be on their feet for the whole shift, but–
I stretched to peer over the counter.
Yep, they were all in sneakers, so I’d be able to change out of my corporate high heels and switch into something comfy for work. Assuming they were hiring, of course.
If they were, I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. It would be ideal to work in Reed Tower and not have to travel far between my internship and my part-time job. I mean, the only thing better would be a job close to home, but Park Slope was a community of single-family homes and sports parks, with the occasional family-run bodega–and none of them were hiring.
I’d already inquired.
When the barista set my coffee on the counter, I asked, “Hey, you guys aren’t hiring, by chance… are you?”
The girl smiled sympathetically, shaking her head. “No, not right now. But, if you want, I can get an application and you can just fill it out…” She shrugged. “Then we’d have it on hand. Would that work?”
“That would be great, thank you.”
The girl disappeared again and I sipped my latte, moaning as the sweet, botanical goodness hit my tongue and warmed my throat.
Cabot Reed’s delicious scent engulfed me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on edge and a tickle of anticipation skittered up my spine. I breathed deeply like the fiend I was, shamelessly drawing his scent into my lungs before even turning around to locate him.
The barista returned, sliding a piece of paper over the counter. “Here’s your application…” Her words trailed off as she focused on the man standing behind me.
Poor thing. I understood that feeling all too well.
“What does an employee of Reed Publishing need with a second job at my cafe?”
Leave it to this man to open his damn mouth and ruin the moment. Couldn’t I just enjoy smelling him in peace?