Dodging a sudden downpour, Elgin Arinze cut across a busy Atlanta street and sprinted toward a bus stop. He tucked a pricey pair of headphones inside the T-shirt he wore with jersey shorts and ratty kicks, having just left from a workout with Hunter, an old friend. While Elgin had moved on to a master's program, his friend's rich father continued to bankroll Hunter's sixth year as an undergrad.
Elgin doubted whether the dude would grow up, much less graduate. Still, Hunter was good people, and a few hours spent with his personal boxing trainer had seemed worth the trip from Elgin's shoebox-sized crib near Georgia Tech, until he'd gotten caught in the rain.
He booked it down the street, but the rain was so heavy that his clothes soon were sagging. Headphones and cellphone both in jeopardy, Elgin veered toward the entrance of a swank hotel. He scrubbed a hand over his cropped black head and rubbed raindrops from his sable eyes, only then noticing that a few other people had run for cover under the hotel awning and now were being shooed away by the valet staff.
Tall and fit, Elgin decided to make good on being mistaken for a basketball player all the damn time. He pulled out his phone and pretended to be an important hotel guest, which got him through the front doors. Wisely, he turned away from the front desk and toward the restaurant. It was too late for lunch and too early for happy hour, making the place blessedly empty.
A cute waiter who looked a lot like Hunter seemed happy to show him to a table, perhaps because Elgin's white tee clung to his walnut abs like a second skin. Grateful for a quiet spot by the windows where he could wait out the downpour, he decided to order food, and was just deciding between an overpriced burger and an overpriced club sandwich when he caught the eye of Dr. Samira Sharpe.
If he was keeping it real, the tight, white dress she wore caught his eye. Dr. Sharpe wasn't checking for him at all while she moved to a seat at the bar.
When she'd been his professor last semester, she'd favored pants suits that had downplayed her figure. Nevertheless, his discerning eye had wandered to her ass all too often, which was one of the reasons he'd skated out of her class with a B-, an upgrade from the C he should have gotten. Fear of his Nigerian father's disapproval—and a visit to her office—had made the difference.
Still wondering why she'd taken pity on him, Elgin admired her overall package. Pushing forty, she had flawless plum skin, hair cut in a curly fro with a mean fade on the sides, and a queenly vibe like Angela Bassett. Aside of being all that, Dr. Sharpe worked a special brand of verve that probably would have come off as obnoxious in a girl his age.
She could do no wrong in that dress. Elgin couldn't stop staring. The fabric nipped and tucked every thick curve her former suits had hidden, as though God himself had poured it on her. He wondered if her breasts, though just small lumps of coal, would fall out of the dress' deep neckline.
Well, if he was keeping it real, he hoped they would.
Elgin slumped in his damp clothes, hoping soggy shorts didn't give away the fact he was turned on. It had been a minute since he'd gotten any ass. He blamed it on chemistry classes and labs; yet, he also wasn't ready to accept that the kittens he met around campus didn't do it for him as much as a cougar like Dr. Sharpe.
His mother would fall the fuck out if he went home with a middle aged lady unlikely to provide the grandchildren Mrs. Arinze so desperately wanted. An only child, he got where his mother was coming from; but, he also was used to getting his way, and had to admit he felt ambivalent about children.
On the other hand, he knew for a fact he liked self-possessed women with a little attitude that suggested, "I've been there, done that, and I'm not impressed with you, young buck." Having a challenge to live up to made him feel cocky in more ways than one.
Grinning, Elgin remembered Dr. Sharpe only taught one class a year, and otherwise was a physician. Technically, she wasn't a faculty member at the moment; and though he didn't know the school rules about fraternizing, he felt easier knowing he wouldn't get in trouble if he bought her a drink.
Hoping to impress her despite looking like a scrub, Elgin affected the same self-importance that had gotten him into the hotel, not wanting to look too eager as he approached. However, a wide smile gave away his interest as soon as she glanced at him.
"Dr. Sharpe? I don't know if you remember me. I'm Elgin Arinze—"
"I remember." Cool and cultured as the pearl studs in her ears, her voice was professorial. She offered her hand in the manner of a business handshake. "How are you, Elgin?"
"Better, since you came in." He took her hand and kissed it, making it clear he didn't want to talk shop, and Dr. Sharpe seemed impressed. "Sitting through the rain by myself was pretty boring. A lady like you has no business being lonely, so I thought I'd come kick some conversation." Elgin flashed his most winning smile as he sat down beside her.
"Alone isn't the same thing as lonely, but it's the thought that counts." Her eyes glided over him, taking in his damp clothes. "Were you out jogging?"
"Worked out at a gym." He sat up straighter under her scrutiny, and was deflated to realize she wasn't checking him out with much enthusiasm. "I was headed home when it started coming down."
"I see," she replied noncommittally.
Looking good didn't make somebody good company, which was exactly why most kittens couldn't hold his attention. Elgin squirmed a little in his seat, feeling his own judgments turned against him, and worrying that he was boring her. "Hopefully, it clears up soon."
She murmured an acknowledgment but said no more, while looking him over again.
Feeling unsure of himself, he turned to signal the waiter at the end of the bar, then asked her, "Can I get you something to drink?"
Dr. Sharpe's perfectly winged eyebrow rose in challenge. "Are you old enough to drink?"
Elgin scowled. "I'm twenty five."
"Impressive." Though sarcastic, she sounded amused, at least. "I already ordered a cocktail. Would you like one?"
"Better not. I have lab soon."
"Curious that you would come to the bar then, and not order anything." Her plum colored lips curved into a smirk. "Just hoping to push up on a lonely, older woman?"
He flushed and sat up straighter in his chair. "Well, I thought about lunch, but I wouldn't want to interrupt you."
"And yet, you already have."
Elgin couldn't tell from her enigmatic smile if she was talking down to him or just teasing. He liked it either way, but wasn't sure what to say. Two steps behind in their verbal chess game, he was stuck at being impressed that Dr. Sharpe indeed was a queen with well-honed moves.
Her almond eyes turned sly. "Are you going to make it up to me?"
"Yes, ma'am. I mean, yeah. Absolutely," he stammered, and picked up the check as soon as the bartender set it down with her drink.
Dr. Sharpe placed her hand over his hand on the tab. "No need. It'll be charged to my room."
"You're staying here? I thought you lived in Virginia Highlands."
"I do, but I'm spending the night."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
Elgin watched her sip from a tumbler of what smelled like bourbon on the rocks, and reconsidered the stunning way she looked. "Oh, were you planning to meet somebody? My bad." He blushed, certain cockiness had led him to assume she had nothing better to do than kick it with him.
However, Dr. Sharpe surprised him with a mischievous smile. "In fact, I was planning to meet someone, and I have."
