Her Billionaire Professor

Chapter Two: Proving Herself

Helen tugged at her collar, the fabric suddenly tighter around her neck. Each breath felt like she was sipping steam, not air. Her chest rose quickly, desperate for a relief that eluded her.

The walls inched closer, the whiteboard now looming like a judge's gavel. Helen clutched the edge of her desk. Her pulse was drumming in her throat, threatening to leap out.

The only thing that could save her from this awkwardness was if she could bury herself in the ground. But that wasn't possible, she had to face the fallout of her mistakes.

“Ok, so many of you don't know me.. yet.” Liam said. “I'm Liam Rivers. And I'll be lecturing you on geography for the time being. At least until the university finds a new, permanent lecturer.”

Behind Helen, a breathless whisper broke through the classroom buzz, “Oh my God,” one girl murmured, her voice was low, but thrilled. “The HR team feasted with this one. He's so hot.”

“As you all know, geography is very important to the travel and tourism program you're studying,” Liam continued. “The university couldn't afford to leave the position vacant after Mr McSteels moved on from the university, even for a short while. I'll fill in for now.” Liam now looked straight at Helen. “So don't get your hopes up, I won't be here for long.”

“Well, no one asked you to stay. What the f**k is he looking at me for?”

“Any questions? Before I begin with my lecture?” Liam concluded.

“Sir, you said many of us don't know you. I mean, I've not seen you in town before, so I'm assuming you're new here. Was there any of us who knew you before you moved in?” It was a random student from the back. Great. Way to make the whole tense situation worse.

It seemed Liam was loving it though, because then he looked straight at Helen again. “No, not really,” he said, eyes still fixed on Helen. “It doesn't matter if I've met any of you prior, you'll all still need to work really hard to get to know me. And I'm not giving anything away. The more mysterious I am, the more objective I remain. Have I answered your question?”

“He's not just hot, he's incredibly sophisticated as well,” the girl behind Helen whispered again. “My kind of man.”

“Come on girl, stop dreaming,” her friend replied. “Can't you see how stern he is? As long as we're his students, we've got no chance.”

The girls might not have been speaking to Helen, but they were making her extremely uncomfortable nonetheless. God, why the f**k did she pick this chair. What was she thinking?

“Sir? Please before you begin,” Helen developed the courage to speak up. “I'd like to change seats and go to the back.”

“Why?” Liam asked bluntly.

“I don't feel very comfortable here, sir.”

“No. Sit where you are. You're in class to learn, not to get comfy.”

“Uurghhhh!” Helen grunted inwardly before sitting back down. Her jaw tightened as she dropped into her seat with a thud. Her arms crossed like steel bars, and her glare could’ve burned through concrete.

But Liam didn't seem to care, keeping a straight face. He maintained his gaze on her until her butt was back on her seat. Then he turned towards the white board.

“So, today, we'll be looking into European maps: their history, origins, and cultural significance. I need you all to be attentive, because I'll be picking students at random to answer very technical questions.”

"Great. So much for being incredibly vocal in class today. He better not point his finger at me, I might as well bite it off.”

“You guys f****d, didn't you?” The boy sitting right beside Helen asked in a whispering tone.

“Sorry?” Helen was caught off guard.

“It's so easy to spot. The way the two of you look at each other, and the tension in your dialogue. How could you be so foolish? Didn’t you know he'd be lecturing us? You really should do your background checks on people before literally f*****g them.”

“I'm sorry. I don't know you, and you have absolutely no right to speak to me in that manner,” Helen snapped back. Her voice, a little louder, pierced the murmur of the room, just sharp enough to catch Liam mid-sentence. His head turned, and his stare landed directly on her.

“What did I just say about the flag of Albania?” Liam immediately asked, looking straight at Helen.

“M-me?” Helen stuttered in an extremely low voice.

“Yes, you. Front row, red hair.”

“Uuhh..” Helen said as she stood to her feet. “Apologies, sir. But what was the question again?”

“I just spoke about the cultural origins of the Albanian flag. What did I say?”

“Umm, sir.. I..”

“Here, I'll give you a tip. I was speaking about the flag’s red background. Did you even hear anything of what I said? Or were you too busy speaking with your boyfriend?”

“Well, sir. If you were speaking about the red background, then it is evident that you spoke about the qualities the red is often associated with: bravery, strength, and valor, all qualities celebrated in Albanian folklore and warrior culture. Would you like me to also speak about how the double headed eagle symbolizes the Byzantine empire and Albanian nobility?”

Liam’s brow twitched, and for a heartbeat, his lips parted faintly in disbelief. The corners of his mouth twitched upward, just barely, before he masked it with a straight face. He definitely wasn't expecting that. “No, sit down.” He responded. “And no more talking in my class.”

Helen slid back into her seat, the corner of her mouth curling in quiet defiance. She didn’t need to say a word, the spark in her eyes spoke loud enough.

“Good job,” the boy beside Helen whispered, leaning into her. But when she gave him a lethally angry look, he nervously cleared his throat and even moved a bit from her.

Flags. History. Liam still looking hot, his perfume dominating the atmosphere. More flags. Cultural geography. Lengthy informative talk. Staring repeatedly at the classroom clock. And finally, the bell.

The class was finally over.

“Thank God this didn't get worse. I don't know what I'd have done if matters got even nervier,” Helen said to herself.

She was now packing her books into her bag, much like the rest of the class. No one really cared much for anything else Liam had to say.

Chairs scraped the floor. Backpacks zipped open in unison. Liam’s words floated above disinterested heads, lost in the rustle of students already halfway out the door. The bell had rung, and the students weren't going to spend one second more in a geography class.

“Redhead girl,” Helen heard. She felt a slow, nauseating twist churn in her gut, like a cold fist clenching beneath her ribs.

Her head faced downwards towards her bag because she was packing. She raised them up, slowly, reluctantly, agonizingly. And her worst fears were confirmed seconds later.

“Yes, you,” Liam doubled down, pointing towards her.

“My name is Helen, sir. I'd appreciate it if you called me that, and not ‘redhead.’”

“Apologies, forgive my ignorance. Can you stay back? We need to speak.”

“Absolutely f*****g terrific.”