Forbidden Love (Forbidden Trilogy) (21 page)

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Authors: S.R. Watson

Tags: #Book 2

BOOK: Forbidden Love (Forbidden Trilogy)
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“What is your response to this charge Ms. Gallagher?” His stern face has me on edge.

“I admit that I was in a relationship with my professor.”

“Was? Do you deny that you are currently still involved?” Shit, Grayson didn’t tell me how he answered this. His statement of ‘just tell the truth,’ comes to the forefront. If I lie, I may contradict what he has already shared and ruin everything. I have no choice, but to be honest as he instructed.

“No. We are still involved.” I fidget with the piece of fuzz on my jeans, hoping I’m not digging us in a deeper hole.

“Were you aware of our ‘no fraternization policy’ at the time you got involved with professor Michaels?”

“Yes sir.”

“I need you to expand on that. Explain why you chose to enter a relationship that was against policy and risk your future here at our university?” He might as well have punched me in the gut. His eyes narrow as he leans forward in his seat. Do I share my true frame of mind that had me to act out of character? It may be personally too much to share, but I want him to see that I wasn’t some skank just out to bang any professor.

“Honestly?” I begin.

“Is there another alternative? Do you wish to deceive me?” He arches an eyebrow at me in question.

“No sir,” I swallow.

“Good. I thought we were off to a good start, honesty wise, so let’s keep at it. Continue.” I start from my break up Liam and how distraught I was. I explain how I just wanted to feel numb, that I was desperate to make the pain go away. Grayson was attractive and actually caused a spark within me. This momentary distraction helped divert my thoughts away from Liam. I needed more. I was willing to be in a casual relationship with Grayson because I wasn’t looking for another committed relationship. Liam had tainted my perception of love’s existence. I didn’t care that he was my professor. I just craved that feeling he ignited in me that made my break up with Liam hurt a little less.

“Who initiated the ‘casual arrangement?’” he asks making air quotes. “Did he approach you?” He eyes me with obvious disgust as he leans back in his chair and begin to rub the stubble on his chin. I can only image what he must think of me, but I must press forward. My knees bounce on their own accord as I continue my recollection of my first run in with Grayson outside of school.

“We had run into each other a couple times because his stepsister, Bailey, is good friends with my best friend. She hosted a pool party at her parents’ house and this was my first run in with Gray… I mean professor Michaels, outside of school. I think the attraction was mutual, but we didn’t act on it. We went on to see each other again at one of his family gatherings, but it wasn’t until we saw each other at Bailey’s birthday party that we finally gave in.” I feel like I’m over sharing, but I can’t stop. I need him to see the picture clearly of how things between Grayson and I evolved. I will not let him think that Grayson was just some pervert professor who coerced me into sleeping with him. I share how he came over that night to apologize for hurting my feelings after pushing me away. He was trying to do the right thing. Grayson explained how hard it was to stay away from me and that ultimately the choice was mine to make. I went to him the next day—sober and willing. Had I not gone to his hotel, there would’ve never been any escalation or further pursuit on his behalf. Dr. Geer just nods his head at the appropriate times, but I can’t get a read on what he’s thinking. His brows knit together in disapproval and I feel that I may be making things worse. I gnaw at my bottom lip and dig my nails into my palms as true fear begins to grip me.

“Did he ever share test material with you outside the classroom or other assignments?” His eyes narrow in on me as he watches for any sign of deception.

I was waiting for that accusation to rear its ugly head and there it is. I shake my head vehemently at the absurdness of his question. “Absolutely not! If anything, he was harder on me.”

“How so?” he inquires. I tell him about the time that I showed up to class late and how I was reprimanded. He never allowed me to feel as though I was exempt from the rules because of our relationship. I also share that Donovan proctored all of our exams. He asks have I ever been in a relationship with any other professor and I tell him no. Has he been listening? “So what do you think your punishment should be for purposefully breaking the rules? What would you do if you were in my position?” He gets up and walks around his desk and takes a seat on the edge. He is less than two feet from me now and the proximity causes a small bead of sweat to form along my temple. His cold eyes are piercing as he stares down at me—no doubt to intimidate me. How in the fuck am I supposed to answer that question? I don’t want to make light of the situation by offering a suggestion that is not comparable to my offense, but I’m sure as hell not going to give him any ideas to make me pay the ultimate price.

“I don’t know, sir,” I answer begrudgingly. He leans forward even more until he is merely inches from my face. I swallow the lump in my throat. He is toying with me now— enjoying my discomfort.

“Hmmm,” he murmurs. “That answer just tells me that you gave little consideration to the consequences during your quest for…” He pauses for maximum effect. “What did you call it again? Sexual healing?” He stares at me intently and I struggle not to break eye contact.
That is not what I called it, asshole.
I don’t dignify his rhetorical question with a reply. Instead I continue to look him in the eye while my knees bounce double time now. He arches a questioning eyebrow before leaning back to the edge of the desk and out of my personal space. He tells me that he only has one last question for me and I almost breathe a sigh of relief. I should have known from the way the statement was posed that this last question would be the ultimate mind fuck.

“Are you willing to walk away from Professor Michaels now if it means the difference between your tenure and expulsion?”
Holy hell.
I’ve been answering all of his questions as honestly as I can until now. He senses my hesitation and pounces on it. “Let me rephrase the question Ms. Gallagher. Are you willing to throw away your academic standing for Grayson?” Somehow his use of Grayson’s name and not as my professor, acts to bring my current situation to present tense— no longer speaking of last semester. Is he really giving me a choice to continue my last remaining months so that I can graduate after his performance of intimidation? His question is a legit one and I can’t believe I let love cloud this consideration up to this point.

The answer to his question should be a no brainer, but my heart aches at the thought of being away from Grayson. The responsible choice is clear. I can’t throw away all that I’ve worked for away nor can I disappoint my mother. She has invested and sacrificed so much so that I could get a good education.
Fuck my life. Love is not volatile…life is.

“I would choose my education,” I answer. My lips quiver and tears sting behind my eyes. I just need to hold it together for a little longer. I can’t let Dr. Greer see how much that decision would be like ripping my own heart out. He stares at me with uncertainty.

“I appreciate your honesty here today, Ms. Gallagher. There will be an investigation to confirm that you earned the grade that you were given and have no past indiscretions,” he says coldly.
There goes that fucking word again.

“Yes, sir,” I quip.

“After reviewing your student records, I did see that you have maintained stellar grades. However, I can’t tell you anything at this point. I will meet with the discipline committee after the investigation is complete and we will make a decision at that time on the appropriate course of action.”

“Yes sir, I understand.” He dismisses me with a wave of his hand and I can’t get out of the door fast enough. Although his last question was a reality check, I still don’t have a clue how the hell this is all going to play out. I’m just glad to get the hell out that office and away from his scrutiny.

I refuse to lose Grayson and still be kicked out on my ass. My mind is reeling with various scenarios on how this could possibly play out. What is the worst that could happen if the committee decides to punish me? Surely they can’t eradicate my entire transcript of classes— maybe just the class I took from Grayson. If they expel me now, I will fail my courses that I’m enrolled in now and that will tank my hard earned GPA. Not to mention, I won’t graduate on time. I would have to transfer whatever classes are transferable and spend more money retaking the classes that are not. I’d probably have a black mark against my name. Would another university accept me? I would have to move back home and be away from Grayson. Dr. Greer intentionally made that meeting about my role in this and left Grayson’s potential punishment out of the discussion. I know he will have to face his own firing squad… hopefully not literally being fired. Would I lose him in the end anyway? Negative outcomes plague my thoughts. I just need to see him. I won’t give him up for anything.

If I’m forced to make that choice, I will just have to endure the few months left until graduation. In the meantime, I will spend all the time with him that I can until a decision is made. I decide to head to Grayson’s office. I call Jordan on the drive over to fill her in on the meeting with the dean. Her concern permeates through the phone.

“What if they’re watching you? What if how you proceed with Grayson is part of the investigation? What if Dr. Greer was trying to warn you?” All the what-ifs.

“I hope not Jordan because I refuse to lose both Grayson and my academic standing. I will make the right choice if one is actually given to me.”

I walk up to the building of Michaels’ Enterprises. The genius designed architecture looks more like modern art and stretches skyward beyond what the eye can see. I enter the circular revolving doors only to be stopped before reaching the turnstiles. The lobby is massive—it’s decor rivaling that of a five star hotel. The receptionist that looks to be in her mid-thirties, motions for me to come over to her desk. Her raven hair is in a slick bun and she is neatly put together in a fitted skirt and blouse. She looks more like an executive than a receptionist. She asks for my name, who I’m here to see, and inquires whether I have an appointment. When I give her Grayson’s name, she looks at me skeptically. Here I am in jeans and my hair pulled into a messy bun among all these polished, put together people milling about. She keeps an eye on me as she makes a phone call. She announces my arrival to the person on the other end of the phone and then waits to get approval to send me up. I guess she got the approval she needed because she begins creating me a temporary badge. I guess it would have been smart to notify Grayson that I was on the way. It’s nearly five in the afternoon. I didn’t even think about the possibility of him having left for the day.

“Okay Ms. Gallagher, you’re good to go. Swipe this badge at the turnstile and head up to the corporate offices on the 27
th
floor. The secretary up there is expecting you.”

I thank her for her time and head in the direction that she points to. When I arrive to the 27
th
floor and walk through the glass doors, an older lady— just as polished, greets me. She informs me that Grayson is finishing a late lunch meeting and should be with me in a minute. She points to his office among what looks like three others on this floor. I take a seat and flip through the pages of the Vogue magazine that was lying on the table in front of me. His door cracks open and Vanessa’s laughter fill the air.

“Okay Grayson, I’ll see you tonight. Behave,” she giggles. My hackles immediately go up.
What in the ever loving fuck?
So here I am hurting over a decision I may have to make and he’s here locked behind closed doors with the enemy having lunch and shit. And what the hell does she mean that she’ll see him later? Behave?
Ugh
. I should just go. I get up to make my escape, but Vanessa walks out and our eyes meet. She smirks in victory and I want to slap the shit out of her again. I turn to leave instead. I mash the hell out of the elevator buttons.

“Ms. Gallagher,” I hear the older secretary call. I refuse to look back. I pound the elevator buttons once more. If Vanessa knows what’s good for her, she best not step foot in this elevator with me. She better fucking take the stairs or grab the next one.

The doors finally slide open, but Grayson is too quick. He grabs me and pushes my back against the wall. His chest is heaving and his stare pierces me to the spot. I can see Vanessa from my peripheral. “Let me go Grayson. Finish your lunch date. Oh I forgot, that’s what you have planned for tonight,” I hiss.

“God damn it Siobhan. Just stop. Vanessa and I were putting together a presentation for tonight’s business dinner with some new clients. We missed lunch so we ordered in so we could continue working.”

“So why was she telling you to behave,” I challenge.

“Because I was making a joke about how I hope they weren’t too stuffy and uptight to enjoy the humor I infused into the presentation.” His eyes plead with mine and I know after hearing his explanation I have no right to be mad. It doesn’t help that Vanessa is still standing there getting a kick out causing doubt.

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