14. Harrison
Chapter 14
Harrison
T he cramped space is really no bigger than a broom closet, but it's never felt so much like heaven. As I lay Ivy over the small round table, the scent of her body wash, shampoo, and something that belongs to her alone, mingle to create a fragrance so potent that when it reaches my nose, it sends my senses spinning. Her hands are warm and unyielding, her breath hot against my neck as I whisper those three little words again because they simply feel so right to say aloud.
“I love you, Ivy.”
From the moment she walked into the classroom today, I knew something was off. She refused to maintain eye contact, didn't participate like normal, and she looked sad. Heartbroken. I'd thought things were going so well. We had fun on our weekend outings as I showed her the city. We talked and laughed, and I’ve learned more about her than any other woman I know.
She told me she doesn't have a favorite color; she loves dogs and is indifferent to cats. She loves to cook but doesn't do it often because she doesn't enjoy cooking for one. Even though she feels she missed out on the grade school and high school experience, she doesn't regret her parents' decision to home-school her.
We spent hours in my bed, making love. But somewhere along the way, I must have said or done something that spooked her because she's been somber and evasive this past week.
At first, I thought the upcoming break put her in the mood. Or, like the previous times she seemed to step back, I wondered if she felt overwhelmed and needed space. I watched as she fiddled with an envelope throughout class, running her fingertips over it with such reverence as though it held all her secrets. When I noticed a single tear slip down her cheek, a whisper of foreboding floated through the room and wrapped itself around me.
And I knew.
This time, she planned to say goodbye. I didn't expect her to actually leave school, leave New York.
I may have initially blurted those words out, but I meant every single one. I've been falling in love with her for weeks. It wasn't until I thought of her not being in my life that I realized the depth of my feelings. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, soaring with my confession.Elated that it wasn’t too late.
“I love you too, Harrison. So much. I never imagined I'd come to New York and fall in love.”
I lower my head, about to cover her mouth with mine and seal it with a kiss, when suddenly the door swings open, flooding the room with light and reality.
I spin around, purposely blocking Ivy from view and blinking as I see the silhouettes of students, their eyes wide as saucers, staring at us. And there, in the front of the crowd is Dean Martens, his face masked in fury.
“Professor Ashe, what's the meaning of this?”His voice drips with icy disdain. He tracks a knowing glare over my shoulder before landing back on my face, even angrier if that's possible. “My office, now .”He swivels on his heel, pushes through the group of curious onlookers, and leaves us without a backward glance, making it crystal clear we're to follow.
“Let's go, Ivy.”I take her hand and lead her out of the room, holding tight as we make our way through the dispersing crowd. Some of them are looking at us with glee at having front-row seats to the newest scandal, others with disappointment or disgust at the perceived teacher taking advantage of a student. But I refuse to let their unvoiced accusations impact me.
“Good for you,”I hear someone say as we hurry past.
Hesitating slightly, I turn toward the voice and see two girls I recognize from one of my classes. I quickly glance at Ivy and immediately notice her red cheeks. She drops her gaze to the floor. Is she ashamed to be seen with me? Or embarrassed about us being so publicly outed?
When we arrive at the dean's office, Fran is waiting. “You can go right in.”She glares at me like I've killed her cat, but look she gives Ivy is scathing. With my arm around Ivy’s shoulders, we pass her to enter the inner sanctum, and I close the door behind me.
My boss is sitting at his desk, and he's livid. A prominent vein runs up the side of his face to his forehead, and it's throbbing.
“Dean Martens,”I start, but he raises his hand, stopping me cold.
His face is a storm cloud, all dark and swirling with the fury that causes deadly lightning strikes.
“You do realize your job is effectively on the line now.”It's not a question but a statement said in a quiet, controlled voice.
“I've done nothing wrong.”I know it doesn't look good, but I didn't technically break any policy.
“As her professor, you're in a position of authority over Ms. Kendrick, Professor Ashe. A man who has…”I watch him struggle to choose his words. “You've had inappropriate relations with one of your students. You are responsible for her grades. As the adult, you are the one who should exercise restraint here, and clearly you have none, considering this isn't the first time. I warned you, Harrison. We have policies in place for this reason.”He sticks his nose in the air defiantly. “It would be best if you resigned immediately.”
“But—” Ivy tries to intervene, but I cut her off.
“No.”I stand there, unmoved, my feet rooted, my stance firm. Ivy is right beside me, close enough that I can feel the tremor in her body. She wiggles her fingers slightly, enough to reach out and brush against mine. My heart thuds in my chest, but I feel like a strong wind could blow her over. “With all due respect, sir, I won't be doing that.”I keep my voice as smooth as silk. “If you want to sever professional ties with me, then you'll have to do ityourselfand terminate me.”For Ivy, this must be like watching a high-stakes poker game, and I've gone all in without batting an eyelash. I would gladly give up my job for her, but there's no reason for that to happen. Unless I'm pushed to take drastic measures.
The dean's knuckles whiten around the edge of the desk like he's trying to hold onto his last shred of control.
“Think about what you're saying, Harrison,”he almost hisses through gritted teeth. “You've submitted your tenure dossier. It's being reviewed as we speak. You were already on shaky ground. Your career?—”
“Is not defined by my past or present acts or this institution alone,”I interject, lowering my voice. “I know my worth, I did nothing wrong, and I know where my heart lies. That's all I need to consider.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Ivy ping-ponging between me and my boss, as the air around her crackles with tension and unspoken threats. I will put everything on the line for Ivy if forced to.
“The audacity...”The dean's voice trails off, and I swear I see something close to respect flash across his face, even as his thin lips curl in disdain. Then he turns to Ivy. “Is this why you planned to leave? Did he take advantage of you? Force you to…”
I twist around to look at her. “He knew?”
“No!” She ignores me. “He didn’t force me into anything. It was me who pursued him. I made the decision to have sex with him.”
Ivy urns to me, cringing slightly, her nod shaky. “I came to see Dean Martens yesterday. I don’t want you to lose your job because of me, Harrison. But I didn’t want to stay knowing how I felt about you. I thought it best if I go back home and stay there, go to a state school or community college.”
I draw back, surprised. But I shouldn't be. Ivy is mature beyond her years. That she would walk away from the school of her dreams… for me… tells me more about her than I ever knew. It also confirms what my gut’s been telling me. She's the right choice.
“My resolve.”I correct the dean's previous accusation, and now we're rewriting the script of our own story, one in which the hero doesn't back down and is about to win the heroine's heart.
“We also have a policy on disclosure of romantic relationships,”I continue. “Well, we are officially disclosing it right now. Dean Martens, I am here today to formally advise you that I plan to enter into a romantic relationship with Ivy Kendrick. Because of our relationship and the policy the school has about such relationships, I think it's probably best if she were transferred to another class so there's no perceived academic impropriety. And I can assure you, there hasn't been. Ms. Kendrick is a bright, intelligent, creative woman and student, and every grade she's received she has earned through her hard work. And if necessary, I can provide proof that I have not been the one marking her assignments or tests. I've had one of my colleagues do that since the start of the term.”
This time, it's Ivy's turn to be surprised. “What?”
“What?”the dean asks at the same time.
I take Ivy's hand and squeeze lightly, hopefully letting her know everything will be okay, but I keep my attention on the dean. “Professor Richardson has been kind enough to mark Ivy's work on my behalf, with no interference or influence from me. Since day one of the term.”
Dad always taught me to trust my gut. And from day one, I knew it could come to this from the moment I looked at her. I made sure that if it did, Dean Martens and the rest of the board wouldn't be able to accuse me of any bias toward her. No coercing on my part, though they’ll need to take Ivy’s word for that.
Releasing her hand, I snake my arm around her waist and tug her against my side. Then I drop my head and kiss her right there in front of my boss. I plant my lips on hers, tasting her like she's already mine forever. Ivy returns the kiss, pressing her mouth to mine with a passion that enflames the never dying embers and makes me wish fervently for privacy so I can show her how much she means to me.
“Harrison.” Her voice low and sultry, and in an instant, I’m hard.
I break the connection and return my attention to the man who holds my future employment in his hands. “If you want me to leave this school, you'll need to write me a letter. The best damn reference any institution has ever seen, after you oversee the successful review of my tenure package of course. Oh, and I’m sure my father will withdraw his annual donation, if necessary.”
It's a hollow threat because I'm confident that I have fulfilled all the necessary criteria for tenure. There is absolutely no legitimate reason for it to be denied. But at the end of the day, if they decide to decline my application, I don't need this salary. It's never been about money. I love to teach.
The dean's face is a study in control slipping away as he stands and walks to the office door. “Fine,”he grits out, the word clipped like a bullet.” But you must cease this... exhibitionism. Keep your relationship with Ms. Kendrick discreet. Please.”
I bite back a smirk, tasting victory.
“Discreet,”I echo. “We can certainly try.”The promise underlines an unintended challenge. I'm not convinced the term discreet will enter my relationship with Ivy—not once we iron out all the little details—like where she'll live and whose bed she'll spend the rest of her life in.
“Then it's settled.”The dean's voice is flat, resignation laced with the bitterness of defeat. As he turns on his heel, I can't help but feel like we've jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge and discovered we can fly.
I can't contain my grin as I lean over and whisper in Ivy's ear, “Let's start over. On our terms this time.”
Ivy steps forward, and my heart drums a wild rhythm against my ribs, wondering what she plans to say to him.
“Dean,”she calls out, and he pauses, his hand on the door handle, reluctance etched into the slope of his shoulders. “You don't get it, do you?”
He turns, his eyes narrowing, all the authority of his position wrapped around him like an expensive, well-tailored coat. But she's no longer a freshman quivering at the knees. With my hand resting on her lower back, I share every ounce of strength and support for whatever words she intends to impart before we leave this office.
“Discretion?”She snorts, and it's so unlike her, yet so cute, that I'm rolling my eyes. “That's not going to happen.”She reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. “Because I love him. And I want the whole world to know.”
The dean's jaw works as if he's trying to form a comeback, but in the end, he gives us a curt nod and opens the door.
As soon as we're out in the hall, away from prying ears and curious glances, she whirls on me. “What just happened?”
I chuckle and slip my arms around her waist. “Well, Ivy Kendrick, English Major, we decided to write our own story. And it's going to be one hell of a love story.”