I need to figure out how to breathe around the fact that the professor who I had a one-night stand with just tried to throw me out of his class.
I walk, hoping that being singled out by Dr. Cormac O’Rourke wasn’t obvious to my classmates. Though I’m sure my very red face is enough to start the Pharm class speculating and gossiping.
I stop at the end of the hall and brace both hands on the cool wall, pressing my forehead against it. “Get it together, Scarlett.”
Then I remember the text about the apartment. I take out my phone and hit call.
The property manager picks up on the third ring. “Loft Properties, this is Kay.”
“Hi, this is Scarlett Ford. I got a text that I’ve been approved for the studio on First Avenue?”
“Oh. Yes.” There’s a beat, and my stomach drops, thinking the apartment is gone already. “You need to sign the lease in twenty-four hours and bring a certified check for first and last months’ rent, plus a security deposit of five thousand dollars.”
“Five thousand?” I squeeze my eyes shut. Holy crap. “Right. I will be there in an hour.”
An hour to figure out where to get all that money.
“Great,” Kay says, sounding chipper. “Just so you know, I do have someone else who wants this place. I told him I would call at the close of business tomorrow if I don’t have a signed lease by then.”
“Understood.” My voice cracks, and I hang up before she can hear me trembling.
I open my banking app, knowing there isn’t the ten thousand dollars required for the rent and security deposit available in there. When a dangerously low number limps onto the screen, my mouth goes dry. In my haste to activate the loan, I didn’t request that the money be paid to me first. The tuition check went to Hamilton, who then issued a check to me to cover room, board, and book expenses. I got the check, but it hasn’t cleared.
“Damn it.” I lower the cell, and my stomach growls loud enough that a passing student glances at me.
Great. Add hunger to the humiliation parade.
I pull in a deep breath, hold it, and let it go slowly.
Okay. New plan. Stay calm. Stay?—
“Scarlett?”
My head jerks up.
My father stands at the far end of the hall, a folder tucked under one arm. His brows lift in surprise to see me pacing at the entrance to the faculty hallway, and he starts walking toward me. Fast.
“Oh,” I blurt. “Hey, Dad.”
His gaze sweeps over me, clocking my flushed cheeks and worried eyes. Then his gaze flicks down the hallway behind me.
I glance back over my shoulder, and oh my God.
Dr. O’Rourke has his arms folded across his chest, watching us. Broad shoulders filling the doorway of his office, he stares, his expression is unreadable. My father follows my gaze.
No. No. No. No.
I turn away from him, the tension ready to explode in my chest. I’m not sure how long I can take this.
Stepping directly into my father’s line of sight of Dr. O’Rourke, I sputter, “I, um, I need to talk to you about something.”
“I’m on my way to a meeting,” Dad says.
Ice hits my bloodstream, and I swallow hard. “It’ll just take a moment.”
“All right,” he says, studying me like maybe he’s expecting me to already say this was a mistake. “What is it?”
I take a breath and pull every frayed piece of myself together. “Can I borrow ten thousand dollars?”