Master Class: A Billionaire Romance by Linnea May

Author:Linnea May [May, Linnea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-24T03:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LANA

"You don't look too good," my sister comments, throwing me a skeptical look over the rim of her glasses. "Are these final classes draining you?"

I shake my head, unenthusiastically playing with the food in front of me. Why do I keep ordering pasta in this place? It has proven to be a bad idea so many times before, especially when cheese was involved, but I keep falling for the simple but promising taste of fettuccine Alfredo, one of my favorite dishes when I was a child.

"No," I say, staring down at my plate, full of regret. "I just haven’t been sleeping well lately. Don't know what it is. Maybe it’s the moon."

"The moon?" Harriet exclaims, incredulous. "You know there's like a billion studies that have proven that the whole moon and sleeping disorder stuff is utter bullshit and that-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know," I say, looking up from my plate and meeting my sister's stern eyes. She's looking more and more like our mother every day. The same sharp and kind of big nose, the same hazel eyes framed by thick and surprisingly dark eyebrows, and the same mouse-like expression. Except for the brown hair, I have very little in common with the two of them, for which I'm grateful. They look exactly like the people they are - strict and one-sided scholars, who could also pass as librarians. I'm sure it's only a matter of time until my sister starts wearing her hair up in a tight bun like my mother does.

"I wasn't being serious when I said that," I try to explain. Jokes, just like sarcasm, are beyond my sister's comprehension.

"Oh, I see," she says, nodding with relief. "Well, if it doesn't get better, you should see someone about it. You'll need to start preparing for finals soon."

"I know."

If it wasn’t for Mr. Portland and the confusion he’s brought into my life, I'd most likely be preparing materials to study for my finals already, even though there's still plenty of time for that.

"Have you spoken to Professor Warwick yet?" Harriet asks, still looking at me over her glasses.

I look at her quizzically. "About what?"

She rolls her eyes. "About being your doctoral adviser? I thought he was your first choice?"

I freeze and stare at my sister, absorbing her words. Why is this making me so... unhappy? Harriet talking about me pursuing a Ph.D. as if it was already a done deal makes me feel like a steel clamp just slammed shut around my heart.

I was so set on following this path just a few month ago. I knew nothing else, and had she said the exact same words to me back then, I would have felt nothing but the urge to follow through on them.

But now I find myself in a place where I'd forgotten about all of it. About Professor Warwick, about my potential Ph.D., about having to make the necessary preparations so I could start the next level right after obtaining my master's degree. It was all gone, replaced by an alternative plan, the one posed by Mr.

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