TheProfessor (3 page)

“Thank you, Kareen. And finally this hour…”

Darryl suddenly muted the volume. “Don’t listen to them, Danielle. You just heard that other lady. They’re still playing your music on the radio. Hell, I was watching MTV this morning and they played one of your videos. And I happen to know for a
fact
that you haven’t run out of ideas.”

Despite myself, I smiled. “No, I definitely haven’t.”

He sat back, gesturing. “See, there you go. I’m telling you, album number seven is going to be the best one of all. Those critics will all be eating humble pie.”

I couldn’t help blushing. “Thank you, boo.” I left the living room for the main hall, fully intent on turning his prophecy into reality. I hung a left and ducked into my private office, where my assistant Clarice Carter was seeing to the task I’d set her.

Clarice was a young woman, only twenty-four, about a year out of college. I’d hired her last summer as a favor to my friend Jasmine, who’s been my girl for ages. Clarice looked just like Jasmine, except that her eyes were blue, going with the sleek sleeveless blue turtleneck dress she had on. Her skin was several shades lighter than mine, somewhere between cappuccino and butterscotch. Her hair was brunette, past her shoulders, mahogany with chestnut highlights.

As I walked in and dropped my purse on my desk, she gave me a quick wave and then said, “Great, Vivian. Yes, if you can get Kayla Donovan to take part, Danielle would love that. She’s only
seventeen
? That is unbelievable. Well, when you’ve confirmed which one of your dancers can make it just email me, okay? Okay, great. See you then, Vivian. Bye-bye.” Clarice hung up the phone and smiled at me. “Hey, you. How did it go with the label people?”

“They were very enthusiastic.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“I heard you speaking with Vivian Brown.”

“Yeah.”

“What did she say?”

“Well, I told her you were absolutely wanting that new girl she’d hired, Kayla Donovan, and Vivian said she would have to ask her first to make sure she would be available before she could say either way.”

“Fair enough. When Vivian emails you, just forward it to me, please.”

“Sure.”

“I want you to pick up our man at the train station tomorrow.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Who did you hire?”

“Jeff Humphries.”

“The white guy, huh?”

I blushed. “Yes. How did you know he’s white?”

“I saw his picture from the file that Marlene Hammond emailed to us.”

“What did you think?”

“He’s
cute
!” We both giggled.

“I want you to wear nice clothes when you pick him up.”

“Of course, Danielle. I wasn’t going to wear just anything.”

“No. I mean really nice. Like, nicer than usual. So I want you to go into the Fashion Room and pick out something.”

“Really? Anything?”

“Yes, Clarice. Anything you want. Just make sure it’s street legal.”

The girl chuckled. “Yes, of course. But you want me to give Jeff something to look at, though, right?”

“That’s the idea. So let’s have you pick out something to wear.”

Clarice got up and followed me out of the office, practically squealing with excitement. Smiling, I led her down the hall, opened the door, and snapped on the lights. Several racks full of designer clothes sat waiting. Then I said, “Get on in there.”

“Ooooh! Thank you!”

I smiled and waited as she started searching.

Clarice hadn’t been searching long at all, when she suddenly came back over to me, carrying two pieces of clothing, both on hangers.

“That was quick. You picked out something already?”

“Yeah. But I wanted to show them to you, just in case.”

“Good idea. What did you pick?”

“This blue satin blouse.”

“Nice. What else?”

“And this navy blue pencil skirt.”

“Don’t forget a pair of pumps. The highest heels you can wear.”

“I’ll go pick out a pair right now!” Clarice went back in and came back minutes later bearing a pair of open-toed blue pumps, featuring sky-high five-inch stiletto heels and quarter-inch platforms.

“Excellent. Would you like to try them all on?”

“Oh! Can I?”

“Yes, let’s see how you look.”

Clarice appeared a few minutes later, wearing the blouse and skirt, stepping slowly and carefully at first in those high heels. “What do you think?”

“I think you look better in my clothes than I do.”

She laughed. “I wouldn’t say that, Danielle.”

“I would.”

We went back down the hall to my office after she changed back. “You have all the information for Jeff’s train?”

“Yeah, I saved that from the email the travel agent sent.”

“Good. I’ll also want you to stay in the house, at least for the next few days. Show him around the house, make sure he knows where everything is, that kind of thing.”

“Help him out, too?”

“Yes. Just don’t get attached.”

Clarice blushed. “Of course not. Will that be all, Danielle?”

“That will be all. Make that last phone call. Use my office.”

“Yes, Danielle.” She bent to make the last call, smiling non-stop.

Naomi came in. “I’ve got your bath ready, Miss Danielle.”

“Thank you. I’m right behind you.”

Chapter Three

Jeff

The damned alarm clock woke me up with its usual sudden blaring of the radio.

“
Good
morning, folks! It’s your DJ Bobby Brown here to bring you the latest and the greatest hits while you’re waking up on this lovely Thursday morning.”

I groaned. “
Shit
.” I covered my eyes against the sun with my arm. The sun was not only up already but shining brightly through the bedroom windows. I needed to buy some blinds or something.

“It’s six fifteen AM, and the temperature is currently fifty one degrees, along the way to a forecasted high of seventy nine degrees. In the meantime, here’s a seven song set starting with
I Love You
by Donna Lewis.”

Groaning again, I sat up. Then I tossed the sheets to one side and put my feet on the hardwood floor. Damn, the floor was cold!

Muttering under my breath, I shuffled across the bedroom and into the bathroom, yawning and stretching, scratching my head and rubbing my eyes.

Although I didn’t want to admit it, and not just to Miss Hammond, I was glad for the change in routine. I needed a vacation, really. Not just away from the office but away from work period. I have no life outside the office. You would think that I would have a life at age forty. But they say that forty is the new twenty. Or something.

It was too damned early to be thinking about this crap. Hell, it was too damned early to be thinking at all.

As I sat down on the toilet and did my business, I ran through a mental checklist of things I’d already done. I’d made good use of my unexpected extra free time yesterday afternoon by packing some clothes and a few essentials. So now all I had to do this morning was take a shower and get dressed. Oh yeah, breakfast would be good, too.

A couple of hours later I was outside my house waiting for a cab, carrying both a duffel bag, a wardrobe bag and a metal brief case which held all my tech toys. The cab arrived and I gave him the address for the train station on my ticket.

Another fifteen minutes later we arrived at the train station, where the cabbie helped me load my luggage in the overhead bin in my compartment, and departed with a tip. I might have existed in my
own little world
but I knew how to tip.

The train departed right on time. I had nothing better to do after that but kick back and watch the world go by as the train headed south for Los Angeles.

“
Sweetheart
!” I suddenly jerked awake.

I quickly sat up, looking around. “What. What?”

The lady riding with me in the compartment was talking. “We’ve arrived.”

I stood up, stretched and yawned as I looked around. “I guess we have.”

“Yes, we have.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem, sweetheart. You have a good day.” She left.

“You, too. Thanks again.” I got my things out of the overhead bin, and headed out on to the platform. The first thing I saw was a tall black dude, holding a large card with my name on it.

Standing next to him was a beautiful young woman. With brown skin and blue eyes, she had to be mixed. She was wearing a bright blue satin blouse, tight-fitting navy blue pencil skirt and blue open-toed leather pumps with sky-high stiletto heels, brunette hair in a bun.

She smiled. “Mr. Humphries?”

“Yeah.”

“Hi, I’m Clarice Carter. Danielle sent me to pick you up.”

“Right. Nice to meet you.” I stuck my hand out.

She took it, gently. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Is that all your stuff?”

“Yeah. That’s all of it.” I tried to pick it all up again and ran out of hands.

“Here, let Mitchell carry some of it for you, honey. We’ve got a car ready to take you to the house.”

“Not a hotel?”

“Nope. Danielle says that will make it easier for you to concentrate on your work if you don’t have to worry about getting to and from every day.”

“Sounds good to me. Lead on, Miss Carter.”

She giggled, a cute little tinkle of laughter. “Come on.” We started walking. “How was the train ride?”

“Pretty boring, actually. I fell asleep.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. I’ve had to ride the train, too. Not very exciting.”

We arrived at the car, an elegant but sedate sedan with a spit-shined black paint job and shiny chrome accents. Mitchell set about loading my luggage in the trunk, then Clarice and I got in the back and he started driving for wherever the hell we were going.

Clarice said, “You must be pretty excited, huh?”

“I’ve never been to Los Angeles, so yeah, I’m definitely excited.”

“Well, we are very happy to have you working with us. We need your help.”

“I’ll be happy to do whatever I can.”

We kept conversing the whole time, right up until we drove past a gated entrance and in to the grounds, then pulled up to a huge white beach house. I must have been goggling.

Clarice said, “Don’t worry, I’ll show you around.”

I looked at her. “That would be a good idea.”

“No problem, Mr. Humphries.”

“Jeff.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Please, call me Jeff. Mr. Humphries was my Dad.”

“Okay, Jeff. As I was saying, don’t worry, I’ll show you around.”

Looking out the car window again, I just said, “Right.”

“Oh, Jeff? Since we’re on a first name basis, call me Clarice.”

“Okay, Clarice.”

A few minutes later, I was following Clarice inside, followed in turn by Mitchell.

A few more minutes after that, after climbing a flight of stairs, I was in what Clarice called the
guest bedroom
, which didn’t begin to describe it.

As I came in, there was a single queen bed in the far corner, with a night stand next to it, and a reading lamp. Against the right-hand wall, was a dresser. There was a television on the wall above the dresser. Flat panel. High definition. Cool. Built into the wall directly on the left, across from the bed, was a closet. The ceiling sloped down. Over where the bed was, I could practically reach out and touch the ceiling. A square patch of sunlight shone through the window, reflecting off the polished hardwood floor. I could almost reach right out and touch the ocean. Below me, a huge swimming pool and patio was in the back yard. The pool looked especially inviting.

Clarice came in to the room, heels clicking on the hardwood floor. God, that was a sexy sound. “I hope this room will do, Jeff.”

I turned to look at her. “Yes, Clarice, this room will do quite well, thank you.”

She smiled. “Good. Why don’t you leave your things in here while I show you the rest of the house? Mitchell, put his things on the bed, would you, please?”

“Sure, Clarice.”

I followed Clarice to the other side of the room. It was becoming quite hard, uh,
difficult
, to concentrate on what she was saying, because her ass looked extremely attractive under that tight-fitting blue skirt she wore.

There was a sudden tightness in my groin.

With difficulty, I tore my eyes away from Clarice’s beautiful butt, and made an attempt to pay attention.

“Just through this connecting door is the bathroom. As you can see, it’s got a nice big shower stall and a bathtub if you want to take a bath.”

Vaguely, I said, “Cool.”

She suddenly stopped and turned around, and I nearly collided with her. “Are you alright, Jeff?”

I swallowed. “Uh, yeah, Clarice, I’m fine.”

She smiled mischievously. “Well, let’s try to concentrate, okay?”

Sheepishly, I said, “Yeah. Thanks.”

Clarice turned, left the room and started walking back down the hallway again, and down a short flight of stairs. “As I was saying, if you go back down these stairs, you’ll find the kitchen.”

“Cool.” I carefully kept my line of sight away from her butt as she resumed walking, her heels making that sexy metronome-like sound again. Shit, she was hot.

We finally made it into the kitchen, where several people were seated at the huge dining table, obviously waiting for me.

A husky yet melodious female voice said, “Ah, he’s here.”

The owner of that voice came up to me. She was about as tall as I was, although that was due to the patent-leather open-toed pumps she wore, with a brown skirt, and a red short sleeved top with a diving neck-line. She looked as if she was cast from milk chocolate. Slim arms and legs, heart-stopping curves, and lustrous black hair that cascaded past her shoulders in sensuous curls. Her eyes were like pools of root beer. Her skin glowed. The smile was bright and white, nearly incandescent.

Clarice stepped next to me. “Jeff Humphries, I’d like you to meet recording artist and model Danielle Evans.”

Chapter Four

Danielle

Oh. My. God. He’s
perfect
! Just perfect.

He was five-eight, short for a man but just my size. Short wheat blond hair. Brown eyes that caught the light just right. A slender build. Not exactly an Adonis. But perfect, just the same!