The Professor was annoyed. This consulting gig was supposed to be easy money. Simple work, low time commitment, and a stack of cash. But he should’ve known anything that sounded too good to be true probably was.
Oh, the money was good, especially for an academic’s side piece. But the simple initial project required all sorts of follow on work. And the client was so damn demanding. Everything was asked for at the last moment and was always due the day before yesterday. Usually, these demands were made via email, but sometimes he got lucky and talked to the client over video chat. Lucky, because the client, Dr. Adeline S., was crazy hot.
Like, lose your train of thought hot.
Fry an egg on the sidewalk in summer hot.
Surface of the sun hot.
Which almost made her constant demands worth it. Almost.
Today was one of those rare times when she was actually coming by in person to talk about the latest deliverable. Of course, she was late and kept pushing the meeting back from before lunch, to mid-afternoon, to dinner time, to now pushing 9:00. 9:00 on a Thursday, the depart-, hell, the whole building was empty. Even the cleaning staff were gone for the night.
And so The Professor sat, and waited. And waited some more. FInally, closer to 10 o’clock, there was a sharp knock on the door. He called out to Addie and told her to come in and sit down. She glided in gracefully, settling down into the straight back chair sitting in front of his desk. Reaching into her large handbag that probably cost more than The Professor made in a month, she pulled out a large manila envelope and a pen.
Her long, flowing hair was piled loosely on the top of her head in a casual bun. A few tendrils fell down onto her glasses, which she quickly pushed behind her ears as she told him, “Professor, you know I prefer Adeline or Dr. S. Addie is what my friends call me.”
Normally he would’ve taken her bait, but this time he just chuckled and said, “Of course, Adeline.”
The hour was late and he wanted to go home, so The Professor forced himself to ignore the swell of her perky B cups behind her expensive, tailored, silk blouse and asked what was so important that she needed to be there in person. The Professor knew that she knew she had an effect on him, and he also knew she took advantage of it. Or at least tried to.
Her newest request was going to test all of her powers. The report that was supposed to be ready in 4 weeks? Now, 4 days. And it was even longer, more complex, and more demanding.
You’re asking the impossible The Professor told her. You had this priced out for a very specific set of work for a very specific price. And now, you think you can just waltz in here, undo a couple of buttons, flash your bright smile, and get whatever the fuck you want?
Leaning back in the chair and arching her back, Adeline pulled her glasses off, slowly cleaning them with a handkerchief she kept in her bag, and said, “It’s always worked before.”
The Professor wasn’t sure which pissed him off more, the fact that she had the balls to say that to him, or the fact that she was right.
Deciding to make his backbone as stiff as the bone in his pants, The Professor said that it wouldn’t work this time. That if she wanted to change the terms of the agreement, she would need to massively increase his compensation and relax the new timeline.
Adeline sighed and said that she could do neither, as her boss had made clear what she needed to do and she wasn’t going to let her down.
The Professor sighed as well and said that they were at an impasse, and that without mutual agreement, the old agreement would have to stand.
Adeline narrowed her eyes, gathered her things, and stood up abruptly. “We’ll see about that,” she said. “Your Vice-Provost and I were in the same dance studio growing up, so we go way back. I’ll just have to give her a quick call and you’ll be teaching 8 am classes from now until you’re too old to remember your own name. And forget about getting any travel grant money for your junkets to Thailand you have planned. Face it K., I can make your life Hell on campus, so just give me what I want and I won’t fuck you. Fuck you over,” she quickly corrected herself.
At this point, something in The Professor snapped and he stood up, saying, “I spent 8 years in graduate school, I prefer Doctor or Professor, but K. is for my friends, not some demanding bitch.” His eyes quickly scanned the inside of his office. All the books wouldn’t do him any good, but then he saw the emergency sport coat and tie he had hanging from the back of his office door.
.... There is more of this story ...