Free Dear Sir, I'm Yours by Joely Sue Burkhart Page B

your date tonight.”
    Gritting her teeth, she concentrated on not screaming. “Absolutely not.”

    ***
    Sighing, Conn rubbed his eyes. Maybe a few drinks with Mason would make these composition books easier to wade through. Freshman English essays were always a trial, but this semester he despaired of ever teaching anybody anything. Some of the essays read like a kindergartener had written them.
    Trying to grade right after lunch was probably a mistake, but he’d hoped to at least make a dent in the stack before the evening. An evening with Rae, alone, far from Miss Belle’s ever watching eyes. What he wouldn’t give to have Rae sitting across from him now in that outrageously short skirt.
    Groaning at the thought, he opened the top essay. Maybe it was for the best that she didn’t own a white dress.
    This one was actually written in crayon. Lord Byron is a dead dude who wrote crappy poetry.
    “They don’t pay me enough for this shit,” he muttered, and immediately felt guilty. He’d never signed up to teach for the money. Shuffling the crayon masterpiece to the bottom of the stack, he selected another and braced himself to dig in and search for some glimmer of understanding.
    His office door opened.
    Everyone knew to leave him alone if his door was shut. Frowning, he looked up and his stomach turned to cold, hard lead. He should have locked his door. “Miss Barrak, my office hours are over.”
    Olivia Barrak sidled up to his desk anyway, planted her hands on his polished cherry desk and leaned down to show an ample amount of cleavage. Conn actually feared she might fall out of the ridiculously skimpy bra right into his face. “You had too many students earlier, Dr. Connagher, and I must speak to you about my mid-term.”
    “There’s nothing to discuss, Miss Barrak.” Deliberately, he made his voice hard and cool. He’d been having problems with this student all semester, not only her inappropriate behavior toward him personally, but also her terrible work and now attempted cheating in his class. Even if Drury didn’t have a zero-tolerance policy, he would have failed her. She obviously thought she could get through life on looks alone.
    Chesty and curvy with thick platinum hair artfully styled to frame her heart-shaped face and pouty lips, she reminded him of Marilyn Monroe. Blatant sexuality had never been his type. In fact, the cooing, smoldering look on her face twisted his stomach.
    Another student had come to his office hours regularly five years ago, and he’d looked forward to every single moment with Rae. He’d relished the agony of sitting behind his desk and watching her steal glances at him while he drilled her on poetry. The difference between her and this troublesome student was monumental. Rae had worked her butt off for him. He’d assigned extra reading and assignments, and she’d done them all to the best of her ability.
    She’d never be a star English student writing comparative essays, but her effort, her spark of enjoyment and desire to learn had more than outweighed her inabilities.
    Olivia Barrak would never be his type, not in a million years, not even if he’d never met Rae.
    He stood and shoved composition books into his leather bag. “You know my policy on cheating, Miss Barrak, as well as the university’s.”
    “But, Dr. Connagher, I wasn’t cheating! Honest!”
    Dean Strobel knocked on his door and stuck her head in.

    Good , Conn thought, mentally relieved. He’d asked the front desk to notify the dean or any present professor if Miss Barrak came to his office again so he could have witnesses. She had the personality of a shark, and if she couldn’t win with her looks, she might attempt to sabotage his career. While he’d justifiably deserved to be fired for what he’d done to Rae behind his locked office door, he’d be damned before he let Olivia Barrak drive him from campus because he dared reject her advances.
    Dean Strobel gave the student her infamous arched