One Night With My Alpha Professor

Audrey

"Edwin?" I blinked in surprise, taking a

ep forward and leaning down to peer into his car. "What are you doing here?"

"I was out for a drive on my day off, Edwin replied c**lly with a shrug of one shoulder. "Are you headed somewhere?"Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

I nodded, glancing at my watch again. "I sort of missed the bus," I replied.

"Get in. then."

I hesitated for a moment, but realizing I had no other option, I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat of Edwin's car. The leather was cool against my skin, and the faint scent of his cologne filled the air. I hadn't been in here since he had taken me out to buy my new phone and tablet, which I still used religiously.

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"So, where to?" Edwin asked, his eyes meeting mine briefly-and momentarily scanning my outfit, which made my tighten a bit before returning to the road.

"The State Building downtown," I replied as I buckled myself in

Edwin shot me a curious look at the mention of the large office complex downtown, which housed a lot of the bigger companies headquarters. "The State Building? What are you doing down there?" "I have an interview with Mr. Black. From Black Textiles."

Edwin's eyebrows shot up. "Black Textiles. Impressive. That's a big opportunity."

I nodded, my fingers nervously fidgeting with the strap of my bag. "Yeah, it is, I admitted with a tiny smile. "I reached out to Mr. Black last week with my thesis proposal, and he offered to meet with me. But I'm pretty nervous, if I'm being honest."

"Well, we've got some time before we get there," Edwin said, glancing over at me as he stopped in front of a red light. "Why, don't you practice on me? I'll ask you some questions, and you can answer as if it's the real interview."

I blinked, surprised by the offer. "Are you sure? You don't have to-"

"I want to," he interrupted firmly. "Come on, it will help you relax. Besides, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about my student's thesis project."

The reminder that I was still, after everything, just a student to him made my chest clench a bit. But he was right; I could use any help I could get. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "Okay, sure. Thanks" Edwin cleared his throat, his voice instantly taking a more formal tone. "So, Miss Thatcher, tell me about your project proposal."

I straightened in my seat, somewhat taken aback by the gravelly quality to his voice. "Um. For my thesis, I hope to explore the integration of human and werewolf fashion trends over the past century. I'm particularly interested in how human styles have influenced werewolf clothing and vice versa."

"Interesting." Edwin nodded. "And why do you think this is an important area of study?"

Ipursed my lips for a moment, thinking back to my notes. "Well Fashion isn't just about clothes; it's a reflection of society and culture. By studying how human and werewolf fashions have intertwined throughout history, I think we could gain some new insight into the relationships between humans and werewolves."

Edwin was silent for a second, considering my response as he followed traffic. Then: "And how do you plan to approach this research?

"I'd like to use a combination of historical analysis and interviewing various people. I'll be looking at fashion archives, old photographs, and magazines, as well as speaking with designers, both human and werewolf, about their experiences and

influences."

Edwin guided the car around a turn. "What challenges do you anticipate in your research?"

I paused, considering. "Well, um... One of the main challenges will be finding reliable historical sources for human fashion. Unlike werewolf fashion, which has been well-documented for centuries, human history has not been documented as well due to socioeconomic and class struggles."

"Good answer," Edwin said. "And how do you plan to overcome that challenge?"

"I'm planning to reach out to human historical societies and older human families who might have personal archives," I replied. "I'm also hoping to use oral histories to fill in some of the gaps in the written record."

We continued like this for the rest of the drive, with Edwin asking questions and me answering. By the time we pulled up to the State Building. I felt much more confident,

"Thanks for the ride," I said as I gathered my things. "And for the practice. It really helped."

Edwin nodded. "You're going to do fine. Just try to avoid saying "um' and "well" too much, alright?"

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As I was about to close the door, I paused, glancing back through the car window, Edwin sat calmly, his tweed jacket laying over the back seat and his hair slightly ruffled, with his white button-down sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He looked.... handsome.

My chest tightened as memories of spring break floated through my mind. For a moment, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about how we had danced together at the club, the way his hands had felt on my waist, the scorching look in his

eyes.

But I pushed the thoughts away. Now wasn't the time. I shouldn't have even been thinking about it.

There was one other thing weighing on my mind, though; and he had been so kind to me, I wanted to say something about

"Edwin, I... I'm sorry for making assumptions about you and your sister," I said. "I should have just talked to you."

His expression tightened for a moment, then softened infinitesimally. "It's okay, Audrey. We can just put it behind us."

I nodded, feg a weight lift off my shoulders.

"I should go," I said. "I don't want to be late."

"Hurry. And good luck."

With a final wave, I turned and ran toward the building. The modern glass structure loomed above me, its sleek lines a stark contrast to the older buildings around it. I pushed through the revolving doors and headed for the elevators, my heart pounding with worry and my lips moving silently as I went over my interview answers one last time.

I made it to the fifteenth floor just in time, stepping into a minimalistic waiting room just moments before my appointment ime. The receptionist looked up as I approached.

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"Audrey Thatcher," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I have an appointment with Mr. Black."

The receptionist, after typing for a moment on her computer, nodded and gestured to a row of sleek black chairs by the large floor-to-ceiling window. "Please have a seat. Mr. Black will be with you shortly."

I sat down, my leg bouncing nervously as I waited. The minutes seemed to pass by all too slowly, each one feg like an eternity. I looked around the waiting room, taking in the sleek, modern decor and the framed magazine covers featuring Mr. Black himself. This was daunting, and I felt like a tiny field mouse in an owl's nest.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was probably only about ten minutes, the receptionist's voice broke through the silence.

"Mr. Black will see you now

Taking a deep breath, I stood and smoothed down my skirt. This was it. I walked toward the imposing frosted glass door, my hand shaking slightly as I turned the **ob.

The office inside was s***us and modern, with more floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city. At a large glass-topped desk sat Mr. Black himself, a man whose mustachioed face I had seen in countless fashion magazines and business journals.

"Miss..." His voice trailed off as I entered, clearly not remembering my name off the top of his head.

I blushed. "Thatcher," I replied, choosing not to linger on the fact that he forgot my name; he was a busy man. Audrey

Thatcher."

"Right. Miss Thatcher, he said with a curt nod. "Please, have a seat.

I sat down across from him, slipping my leather bound portfolio out of my bag and placing it on the desk between us. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Black. I'm honored to have this opportunity, and-

"Let's see what you have here," he said curtly, already reaching for my portfolio before I could finish. My face flushed, but I said nothing.

For a few moments, I watched anxiously as he flipped through the pages, his expression unreadable. After what felt like barely even thirty seconds, he closed the folder and tossed it back onto the desk. My heart sank immediately. Had he not liked what he saw? Was this interview over before it had really begun?

Mr. Black leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers, his piercing gaze fixed on me.

"What else do you have to offer?" he asked coldly.