Jeff Humphries, known as The Professor at his office, is the go-to guy if you want state of the art digital technology. He’s worked with a list of clients that would make most people jealous. But he’s long since grown tired of having to travel long distances. He has no friends, no life and no real reason to keep working at the lab.
Danielle Evans is a best-selling singer, with a long list of hits behind her. But her personal life is a lie. She’s been nurturing a fierce burning desire for white men. A desire that won’t go away. She knows that she must quench that burning fire soon, or it will consume her. And so she hatches a plan to bring Jeff Humphries into her fold. For she will have what she wants.
But while sharing a night of passion in the pool one hot summer night, the man without friends and the woman with a secret will both get something sorely missing in their lives.
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The Professor
Copyright © 2012 Jon Bradbury
ISBN: 978-1-77111-128-7
Cover art by Angela Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books
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The Professor
By
Jon Bradbury
To two people: Thanks to my buddy Kyle Dodge for his kind permission to use “pervert mode.” And to Kristine Wyce of Kristine and the Sting, wherever you are. This one’s for you.
Chapter One
Jeff
For what seemed like the millionth time that day, but was probably only the tenth, I plugged one end of a USB cable into a custom-made high-definition camera and connected the other end to the computer.
The camera, about the size of an inhaler, just like the kind that I’ve mounted on both airplanes and racecars, giving race fans and debriefing officers a birds-eye view of the action, was giving me problems. I thought I had it fixed. But the camera was proving resistant to my efforts. I had just replaced the circuit board, a damned small one about the size of postage stamp. Now it was time to see if my fix had fixed the problem. I looked at the clock on the computer and was shocked to see it was
two thirty
. I’d been working on this camera all day! Straight through lunch, as my stomach reminded me.
Much to my pleasant surprise, the computer not only recognized the camera but showed me what it was seeing. I gave a great big, “
Yeah!”
and pumped my fist.
Someone passed my cubicle and said, “What’s all that about, professor?”
Frowning at the
professor
handle, because I
hated
it, I turned in my chair and said, “Oh, hi, Freddy. I finally fixed the camera.”
He entered my cubicle. “Nice work.”
“Thanks.”
“High five.”
Smack
. “Did you have to replace the circuit board?”
“Yeah. See, check it out.”
In the middle of our conversation, my computer
ping
ed. I rotated my chair back around, and saw an instant message had popped up on the screen, from Marlene Hammond.
Please come to my office right away
.
“Shit.”
“What’s up?”
“Miss Hammond wants to see me about something.”
"Oh, shit."
"That's what I just said."
"Better go see what that's about."
"Yeah." So I typed back
On my way
.
I took off my magnifying glasses, locked my computer, and walked all the way to the back, to the Director’s office. The Technical Institute was one of the finest digital technology labs in Silicon Valley. We did research and development on both audio and video hardware. Microphones that would make a recording engineer salivate. Cameras that would make High Definition look like thirty-five millimeter film. And, on occasion, we hired our talents out to various clients to consult on various projects.
Finally I arrived at her office, and stopped at her door, to smooth down my rumpled blue lab coat. Marlene Hammond was my boss. She was also a tall, striking brunette. I could see she was dressed in a plain white blouse, black leather pencil skirt and black pumps, her hair slicked back in a simple ponytail, secured with a barrette.
Taking a deep breath, I knocked twice on the glass door.
She looked up, smiled, and took off her glasses. “Hi, Jeff. Come in, please.”
I came inside the room and sat down, facing her desk. “So, uh, what did you want to see me about?”
“You haven’t read your email, have you?”
I swallowed. “Uh, no, Miss Hammond. I, uh…”
“You went to work and the rest of the world didn’t exist?”
Sheepishly, I said, “Yes, Miss Hammond.”
“Well, I wanted to be the first to congratulate you.”
“Thanks. But what for?”
“Your new assignment. The recording artist Danielle Evans has selected you to be a technical consultant.”
I was afraid of that
. “Technical consultant? Consulting for what?”
“Jeff, it’s a very prestigious assignment. Danielle is incredibly famous, right up there with Stacey Dash and Jennifer Lopez.”
“I suppose so.”
Miss Hammond was suppressing a smile. “I know this is sudden. But just think of all the ideas you’ll have bouncing around inside your head when you come back. All I ask is that you check your email while you’re away.”
“Right.”
“Starting tomorrow afternoon, your only concern will be to represent us to the best of your ability.”
“And how long will I be gone, Miss Hammond?”
“At least two weeks. But no longer than three weeks.”
I suppressed a groan. “Three
weeks
?”
Miss Hammond had this look on her face like she was trying not to smile or laugh. “You’ll be back home before you know it. As I said, it’s a very prestigious assignment. They’ll even pay you for your very considerable expertise.”
I’d never seen her stroke my ego like this. “Okay, I guess.”
“Good. What we need to do now is to have you take
these
over to HR. After that, you can go home early and pack.” She slid a packet across her desk to me.
“What are these?”
“Danielle’s people were kind enough to fill all these out for us.”
I stood up and picked up the packet. “Wow, seriously?”
“Seriously, Jeff.”
“Wow. I mean, that’s not a lot of paperwork, but…”
“I know. I faxed it over this morning and they faxed it back this afternoon, all filled out and everything.”
“Wow. What else is in here?”
“Your train ticket. Danielle’s people will meet you.”
“Right. Anything else I need to know?”
“No, Jeff, that about covers it. I understand you finally fixed that camera.”
“Yeah. Sure did.”
Miss Hammond smiled. “Good job.”
“Thanks. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be going over to HR.”
“Yes. Off with you. I need to call Danielle and let her know.”
Chapter Two
Danielle
Picture a very nice conference room. Walls paneled in mahogany. Picture windows on the far side of the room showing the beautiful sun-washed June day that I was wasting while trapped in here. Behind me was a sliding glass door. Every so often someone in a suit or a dress would walk past. Outside, the ground was five stories below. If I stood up, I could see the highway two blocks away.
I was seated in a plush black leather armchair that reclined slightly, facing a huge table shaped like an oval, also done in mahogany. I was dressed up in a black blazer and matching pencil skirt with a high slit in back. Matching glossy patent-leather open-toed sling-back pumps were on my feet. My shiny black hair was slicked back in a tight bun. Pearl stud earrings nestled in each earlobe. Not to toot my own horn, but,
beep-beep
!
A black leather organizer sat open on the table, showing a yellow legal notepad. I was supposed to be taking notes, but I was doodling instead. My manager Tyrone Williams was giving me dirty looks from across the table, and I was ignoring him, concentrating instead on the man from the label, or trying to, anyway.
It wasn’t that the man from the label was ugly, because he wasn’t. He was, in fact, very well put together in his navy suit, white shirt and snugly knotted navy tie. And it wasn’t that his presentation was uninteresting, because it was very interesting. It was just that my mind was elsewhere. Certainly not where it should have been.
I was in a meeting with my manager, agent, and the man from the record company. It was a fairly important meeting. The record company was giving its sales projections for my new album, if I could deliver the extra material I wanted to include. The record company was, to say the least, enthusiastic about the possibilities.
Instead of paying attention to the label rep, I was thinking about a talk I’d had earlier on the phone with my friend Marlene Hammond at the Institute. I had called to tell her which candidate I had chosen from the list she had sent us.
“So, you’re sure that Jeff Humphries is the one you want?”
“Yes, quite sure. Is there a problem?”
“No, I just wanted to make sure that he’s the one you wanted.”
“Yes, I’m quite sure. Jeff Humphries is the only person on the list you sent with the kind of experience I need.”
“Plus the fact that he’s male, and white?”
“I won’t lie. That helps, too.”
“Just try not to seduce him on the first day.”
A naughty giggle burst out of me. “No promises! So what’s next?”
“Well, what’s next is that I need to get Jeff into my office and let him know about your decision. Then I’ll call you back.”
“Okay. You have the packet we faxed back?”
“Yes, Danielle, I have the documents. I’ll call you back when it’s set. Okay?”
“Okay.”
So now I was impatiently waiting for Marlene to call me back. It was nearly three o’clock in the afternoon and she still hadn’t called back yet. I’d spoken with Marlene only half an hour ago and the waiting was unbearable.
I was trying to focus on what the nice man from the record label was saying, trying not to click my nails on the table in my impatience. I was sitting there, all calm, cool and collected, when my cell phone went off.
I’d left my phone in pervert mode for the meeting. It’s really just vibrate mode for the inquiring minds that want to know, but I call it pervert mode. I had my phone in the inner left pocket of my blazer, where only a thin layer of satin separated it from my breast. It’s summer, it’s hot and I don’t like to wear underwear. I even shave my pubic hair. Not
groom
it.
Shave
it. A girl has to keep her privates neat.
Buzzzzz
.
I dug my nails into the arm-rest. I bit my bottom lip to keep any moans or growls from escaping. Meanwhile, my phone kept torturing me.
Buzzzzzzz.
Warmth and wetness seeped from my feminine parts like water from a sponge. That’s what I get for not wearing panties.
Buzzzzzz.
I reached into my jacket pocket and snatched my phone out, ending the torture. Able to breathe again, I took my phone out and flipped it open. Marlene! Finally!
As soon as I saw who it was, I said, “Excuse me. I need to take this call.”
My agent, Darryl Strawberry, turned in his chair and looked at me. “Who is it?”
I said, “It’s about that other matter we discussed this morning.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
I squeezed his shoulder and lifted my phone to my ear as I stood up and headed for the hallway. “This is Danielle.”
“Hi, Danielle, it’s Marlene. I just thought I’d call to let you know that my guy will be on his way to you per the itinerary in the packet.”
I stepped out into the hallway, five-inch stiletto heels going
click-click-click
on the hardwood floor, carefully sliding the glass partition door until I heard it
snick
into place. I looked around to make sure I was alone. “Excellent. And you’re
sure
he doesn’t know?”
“Danielle, honey, have I ever let you down? Ever?”
“How did you get him to go along with it?”
“He’s a tech geek, honey. All he knows is that he has to step away from his real work in the lab to help you. I think having all the paperwork done might have helped.”