made his expression blank, and steepled his fingers.
"I've read essays way worse than mine that have gotten better grades. Her comments are borderline abusive—"
"How so?"
"Well, just look." She dug in the backpack she'd sat next to her feet and came out with a paper. "Right here she says, 'It's clear you haven't done the assigned reading. This paper doesn't meet the requirements. If you'd like a chance at a half-grade, see me after class.' She accused me, falsely, of not doing the reading. That is an attack on my character, and I won't stand for it."
Grey frowned in thought. "Did you redo the essay?"
"I most certainly did not. I want you to grade it. My parents paid for a class with Dr. Greyson McDaniel, not his teaching assistant."
Grey leaned forward and held out his hand for the paper. Gwen handed it to him. "Here's the thing about these Freshman classes. The curriculum is basically the same. Meaning if you took this class with Dr. Sears or Dr. Markham, you'd be getting the same instruction, same basic grading standards. Ms. Hart taught this course last year. She's extremely devout when it comes to the syllabus and her standards for grading, which is why I don't police her actions too often. I can look at this paper for you, but the chances are, I'm going to agree with Ms. Hart's assessment."
Gwen sighed. "I just want a fair grade. If you think I didn't do a good job, then I'd like the chance to do better."
"Ms. Hart offered you that chance."
"For half the grade. That would kill my overall grade, and I've got my GPA to consider." She stood and leaned forward on his desk, her blouse open at the top, revealing her cleavage. Grey kept his eyes dutifully above her neck.
"Like I said, I'll look at it. But I don't make exceptions to class policy—"
She stepped back, undid another button on her blouse, and made her way around his desk. "Never?" she asked, with a pout on her lip and in her voice.
Grey immediately saw what was happening. He stood to put his desk chair between himself and her. "Ms. Morris, I assure you, that won't work on me. Please leave. I'll contact you about your paper."
"I'm sure there's something I can offer you to convince you I'm right." As she spoke, she reached beneath her skirt and pulled off her pink, lace panties, hanging them on his lamp. Then she sat on the edge of his desk and spread her legs.
He was about to tell her, once more, to get the hell out of his office, when there was a sudden knock at his door. His colleague, Dr. Markham—a crabby, schoolmarm of a woman—came in. "Dr. McDaniel, I wanted to talk to—" She froze as she took in the scene.
As he was about to assure Dr. Markham that this was not what it looked like, Gwen leapt off the desk, clutched her shirt closed, grabbed her backpack and ran sobbing out of the office. Unfortunately, her panties remained on the lamp. "I swear to God, Ellen—"
Dr. Markham's eyes narrowed as she made her final judgment. "I always knew you were a slime bag. That whole gentleman act was just a mask. I'm going to the dean."
"Ellen, she was trying to get a good grade. I didn't touch her. I've never—"
"Save it for the committee. We'll see how many other victims come forward." She turned on her heel and left.
Grey stood dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open. It wasn't that there hadn't been a girl or two over the years hint that she'd be willing to sleep with him for a grade. It was that none had been as aggressive as Gwen.
Addison came back in, beelining for her desk, not looking at him. "Did you get her taken care of?"
He had no words. Addison pulled a book out of her bag and opened up her laptop. "It won't hurt my feelings," she said, "if you want to give her an A just to shut her up. I'd have done it myself if I'd known what a pain in the ass she was going to be."
Still no words. How much trouble was he in?
"I did tell you I couldn't handle her, didn't I?" She turned around, finally. Her smirk vanished as she stood.
"I've read essays way worse than mine that have gotten better grades. Her comments are borderline abusive—"
"How so?"
"Well, just look." She dug in the backpack she'd sat next to her feet and came out with a paper. "Right here she says, 'It's clear you haven't done the assigned reading. This paper doesn't meet the requirements. If you'd like a chance at a half-grade, see me after class.' She accused me, falsely, of not doing the reading. That is an attack on my character, and I won't stand for it."
Grey frowned in thought. "Did you redo the essay?"
"I most certainly did not. I want you to grade it. My parents paid for a class with Dr. Greyson McDaniel, not his teaching assistant."
Grey leaned forward and held out his hand for the paper. Gwen handed it to him. "Here's the thing about these Freshman classes. The curriculum is basically the same. Meaning if you took this class with Dr. Sears or Dr. Markham, you'd be getting the same instruction, same basic grading standards. Ms. Hart taught this course last year. She's extremely devout when it comes to the syllabus and her standards for grading, which is why I don't police her actions too often. I can look at this paper for you, but the chances are, I'm going to agree with Ms. Hart's assessment."
Gwen sighed. "I just want a fair grade. If you think I didn't do a good job, then I'd like the chance to do better."
"Ms. Hart offered you that chance."
"For half the grade. That would kill my overall grade, and I've got my GPA to consider." She stood and leaned forward on his desk, her blouse open at the top, revealing her cleavage. Grey kept his eyes dutifully above her neck.
"Like I said, I'll look at it. But I don't make exceptions to class policy—"
She stepped back, undid another button on her blouse, and made her way around his desk. "Never?" she asked, with a pout on her lip and in her voice.
Grey immediately saw what was happening. He stood to put his desk chair between himself and her. "Ms. Morris, I assure you, that won't work on me. Please leave. I'll contact you about your paper."
"I'm sure there's something I can offer you to convince you I'm right." As she spoke, she reached beneath her skirt and pulled off her pink, lace panties, hanging them on his lamp. Then she sat on the edge of his desk and spread her legs.
He was about to tell her, once more, to get the hell out of his office, when there was a sudden knock at his door. His colleague, Dr. Markham—a crabby, schoolmarm of a woman—came in. "Dr. McDaniel, I wanted to talk to—" She froze as she took in the scene.
As he was about to assure Dr. Markham that this was not what it looked like, Gwen leapt off the desk, clutched her shirt closed, grabbed her backpack and ran sobbing out of the office. Unfortunately, her panties remained on the lamp. "I swear to God, Ellen—"
Dr. Markham's eyes narrowed as she made her final judgment. "I always knew you were a slime bag. That whole gentleman act was just a mask. I'm going to the dean."
"Ellen, she was trying to get a good grade. I didn't touch her. I've never—"
"Save it for the committee. We'll see how many other victims come forward." She turned on her heel and left.
Grey stood dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open. It wasn't that there hadn't been a girl or two over the years hint that she'd be willing to sleep with him for a grade. It was that none had been as aggressive as Gwen.
Addison came back in, beelining for her desk, not looking at him. "Did you get her taken care of?"
He had no words. Addison pulled a book out of her bag and opened up her laptop. "It won't hurt my feelings," she said, "if you want to give her an A just to shut her up. I'd have done it myself if I'd known what a pain in the ass she was going to be."
Still no words. How much trouble was he in?
"I did tell you I couldn't handle her, didn't I?" She turned around, finally. Her smirk vanished as she stood.
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