Dr. Travis on her desk.

“I know you’ve been through a rough few weeks,” Dr. Travis said. There was genuine compassion in her voice. “That’s why I’m not upset that you’re falling behind on your work.” She was looking down at Charlotte from where she sat on the edge of her desk, one leg crossed over the other. Her finely-manicured-and-painted fingertips tapped on the top of the desk like a little metronome keeping a distracting time.

“Thank you,” Charlotte said. She was so glad that she had a supervisor that actually understood what postgrads like her needed to thrive. She had heard some real horror stories while she was getting her application together.

“Don’t thank me,” Dr. Travis said. “You still need to catch up on your work, I’m just not going to punish you or anything ridiculous like that.” She uncrossed her legs, and Charlotte’s eyes fell to her professor’s pale thighs for the first time. “You and I are going to have some catch up, though. Thankfully we can get it done tonight, in this office, too.”

Charlotte smiled. “Can we?” She said. Her lips were dry and she was hungry.

“You can finish, yes,” Dr. Travis said. “I have faith in your skills.”

Charlotte gulped. Her heart was beating fast and her palms were sweating. Never in a million years could she have seen herself in this position.

Dr. Travis parted her legs, and Charlotte could see all the way up her skirt, to her plain black underwear. “Your skills come highly recommended,” Travis said.