What did that smirking twat do now? Told Pattison some lies about having affairs with my students?I’ll fucking kill him.
“As a part of this faculty, you are required to follow said traditions,” my teacher continued as he lifted an envelope off his desk.
“Professor Pattison, I can assure you that I’m not breaking any rules or traditions. If you’ve been informed otherwise, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding,” I said, gathering every shred of composure in me to appear calm.
“There’s no misunderstanding about this outrage, Vixen.” He handed me the envelope. “Thanksgiving for Christmas party is happening this year, too, ten days from today, and your presence is required.”
I blinked, snorting a laugh. “What?”
“You heard me. Every year, the university organizes an early Christmas party a couple of days before Thanksgiving, combining the two festivities in one. Believe me, I know how lame this sounds, but even I can’t do anything about it.” He looked like he was about to vomit.
I took the envelope and peeked at the invitation card. It smelled like pine trees and cherries, golden engravings all over it. I didn’t get why he was so disgusted by the idea. It sounded nice. Thanking God and celebrating the birth of Jesus on the same day? What was bad about that?
“Those who fail to attend ready to spread the joy and give thanks are frowned upon by the big guys. That would leave you no chance to win the position you aspire for,” he concluded.
“No problem, Professor. I’ll be there.” I read the invitation. My eyes halted at the plus one part. “Is not bringing a plus one frowned upon as well?”
“Yes.”
Shit.
“I think Professor Legend might need a plus two invitation,” the son of a bitch said. “Or four?”
My head snapped up at him. “Excuse me?”
Russell’s smug smirk simmered my blood. “What? You said you were in an open relationship.”
This is it. I’m gonna tell Malcolm to rearrange your face, wipe this ugly shit off it. Let’s see how you’re gonna fucking speak when you’re toothless.
“Is that true, Vixen?” Pattison asked.
“With all due respect, Professor, I don’t see how the dynamics of my personal love life are of any relevance to this conversation,” I mumbled.
“It is if you intend to bring more than one partner to the party,” Pattison said.
“I am not.”
“Good decision.”
I nodded, gritting my teeth. The way they were looking at me told me my chances to get Pattison’s position had slimmed down to none. All because of one lie I’d told to spite one awful ex. How on earth was I in love with this ever smirking bastard?
“That’s what I would advise my Isabella if she was still working here,” Pattison added.
My brows hitched. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? I peered at him for further explanation. “Isabella? Professor Isabella Ferro?”
Pattison smiled. “The one and only.”
Russell lost his smirk. “I thought Ferro was getting married to…Asher.”
“No. Isabella, Asher, and I, along with two more partners, make a tremendously happy, successful polyamorous family. We are even trying for a baby.”
Oh. My. God. I totally heard that in the voice of Janice from Friends in my head. My gaze shifted to Russell, and I slapped a hand across my mouth so I wouldn’t burst into laughter. The look on his face was everything. I wanted to take a fucking picture.
Burn, motherfucker. May you burn in hell forever.
“That is amazing, Professor. Would I get to meet this marvelous lady at the party?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” he said. “By the way, I was thinking about writing a paper about the psychology of polyamory. Would you be interested in a co-write?”
