A new day

The rich aroma of Colombian coffee crept into John's office before Elizabeth did, her heels clicking a familiar rhythm against the hardwood floor. She set the steaming mug on his desk with a practiced flourish, her hazel eyes scanning his face for signs of the previous night's exhaustion. "You look like **** warmed over," she murmured, her coral lips quirking. "Were the Maddison twins that much of a handful?"

John wrapped his hands around the mug, letting the heat seep into his palms. "They weren't a problem," he lied smoothly, taking a slow sip. The coffee was perfect— with a dash of cream, exactly how he liked it. Elizabeth had an uncanny ability to remember the smallest details about people.

She perched on the edge of his desk, her skirt riding up just enough to reveal a hint of thigh. "The mixer was a smash hit, by the way. Best attendance we've had yet." She plucked a stray paperclip from his desk, twisting it between her fingers. "Though I heard Lauren Murray and Melissa Levy earned themselves some detention?" Her eyebrow arched knowingly. "I always suspected those two were bisexual, but last night confirmed it."

John choked on his coffee. Elizabeth patted his back with exaggerated concern, her fingers lingering just a beat too long. "Easy there, tiger." She leaned in conspiratorially, the scent of her jasmine perfume mingling with the coffee. "If you need help with their detention sessions, just say the word. I'd *love* to observe their... teamwork."

John exhaled through his nose, tapping his pen against the desk blotter. "I'll certainly think about your offer," he conceded, eyes flicking to the half-open office door. The faint sounds of girls laughing in the hallway drifted in—high-pitched and breathless in a way that made his grip tighten around the pen. "The students have been... difficult to manage lately."

Elizabeth's coral lips curved as she rolled the paperclip between her fingers. "Mm, I've noticed." Her hazel eyes glinted with unspoken knowledge as she leaned closer. "They seem *extra* worked up this semester. Almost like..." She let the sentence hang.

John's coffee suddenly tasted bitter. He set the mug down carefully, avoiding her gaze. "Emily's tutoring session is tonight," he said abruptly, changing the subject with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. "I'm not sure I'm—"

Elizabeth's fingers stilled on the paperclip, her hazel eyes sharpening into something dangerously perceptive. "You *promised* Emily," she said slowly, each syllable weighted. "And you promised to me.”

The memory of the photo booth last night hit him like a stray elbow to the ribs—Emily's bare thighs straddling him, her breath hot against his neck as she whispered *"I've never done this before"* right before sinking down onto him with a gasp that wasn't entirely feigned. The way her back had arched when he came inside her, her fingernails scoring his shoulders through his shirt—

Elizabeth's heel hooked around his ankle beneath the desk, jerking him back to the present. "She needs the Econ help," she insisted, her voice dropping to a murmur as footsteps passed the office door. "And frankly? *I* need Emily happy.”