No hanky-panky or else an F.
Then, the professor turned and he wasn’t my professor after all. He was just a man who looked like him.
I relaxed momentarily.
But later that night, as I worked on my designs for Claire, using the curved-nose pliers on a key, I didn’t feel like I’d just returned home from a romantic trip to Paris. I didn’t feel like I was such a smart business woman. I felt like someone trying to get away with trickery. Someone trying to pull the wool over shareholder’s eyes, to fool the public, to get off scot-free.
Like a liar.
That’s precisely who I was now.
But that wasn’t me. That wasn’t who I wanted to be.
I had a choice. I had my future in front of me. It had to be a future I could live with. I had to be the me I could live with.
*****
My stomach twisted into knots, and I took a deep breath as I knocked on my professor’s door. It was open, and he was waiting for me. I’d called earlier to request the meeting so I wouldn’t back down when I arrived.
He gestured for me to come in. My boots clacked loudly on the tiled floor of the office.
“Have a seat, Ms. Harper. Good to see you. I trust you had a productive time in Paris?”
“I did. It was a great trip.”
“Fantastic. And how is everything going this semester with Made Here? We only have a few more weeks left, but the reports have been good, so I’m pleased.”
I gathered up all my courage. My shoulders rose and fell, and then I started. “I wanted to let you know that during the course of the semester and the time with Made Here, I have fallen in love with Bryan Leighton. Well, I suppose you could say I’ve fallen in deeper with him because I was already in love with him five years ago and didn’t stop.”
Professor Oliver looked at me quizzically and narrowed his eyebrows. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
I steeled myself to say the words without tripping on them. I was clinical and business-like as I laid my confession bare. “I was involved with him when I was younger, and I’m also involved with him now. I could tell you that we tried to stop. That we tried to deny it. That we tried not to see each other. That we tried to wait until the mentorship was over. I could tell you how important this class is to me. I could tell you how badly I want to graduate. I could tell you how much Bryan values his company’s relationship with the school. Those would all be true. But what’s also true is that I broke your rule about being involved with your mentor. And because of that I don’t think he should be my mentor anymore.”
He nodded several times with pursed lips that formed a scowl. “I see.”
He picked up a pencil from his desk and began twirling it. Thumb to forefinger. Thumb to forefinger. Again and again. After several perfectly executed twirls, he put the pencil down, and looked at me.
“It would seem you have a problem then, Ms. Harper. You no longer have a mentor. Without a mentor, you cannot pass this class. Without this class, you cannot graduate.”
*****
Claire adored my designs. They exceeded her expectations, she declared over espresso and chocolate biscuits. But her admiration felt like a Pyrrhic victory. She’d detailed the conditions of her investment, and I’d made a conscious choice to violate them. I wouldn’t be able to finish my degree, and that broke the deal.
She held up the slim silver chain with the vintage key on it, shaking her head with pride. We were at a cafe on the Upper East Side. “This? Yes. I can tell you right now Elizabeth’s will carry it.”
I gave her a curious look. How could she make such a guarantee? But it didn’t matter. She could say all she wanted about Elizabeth’s, but she’d be taking it all back when I broke the news.
“I’m glad you like it. Really, truly, I am. But there’s a problem,” I said and then told her everything, including how her husband had the no hanky-panky warning posted on his Web site.
She cackled when she heard that. “I had no idea. Really? It says no hanky panky?”
I grabbed my phone, and tapped in his URL, showing her the screen.
She laughed even harder. “He’s one to talk.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was his student. He’s such a hypocrite.”
“Really???”
Even as my future with her circled the drain, I couldn’t help but join her in peals of laughter that echoed around the cafe. The couple at the table next to us peered over.
“You were his student?”
“Yes. I wasn’t even his protege. I was his actual student fifteen years ago when I went to NYU, and he was teaching management skills. Some management skills. He fell in love with his student while he was teaching her. For him to post that about no hanky panky is incredibly amusing. But those are his rules. And I respect them. And you must abide.”
I nodded, a heaviness in my chest. I would have liked doing business with her, but I would have to go it alone. I’d have to start over in my quest to help my parents. I pushed my chair away from the table, stood up, and offered her a hand to shake.
She waved me off. “This is what you’ve learned at business school? This is what you’ve learned from me?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just going to give up?”
“You made your stipulations pretty clear, Mrs. Oliver. And I respect them. I am so, so grateful that you were willing to take a chance on me, and my work, but I let you down. I’m not going to be able to finish this class. Or work with you.”