38 - Promise MeMiaJames tugged down my skirt, sliding papers and books on his desk, which he had pushed down when I had entered his office. I pulled up my panties, straightening my clothes and hair, trying not to panic. “Enter.” The door opened just as I took a pencil in my hand, staring deeply at the examples of models I had sketched for the final project of the year, which James had asked us to do. I turned around and saw Claire, clutching a sketchbook to her chest, her eyes throwing daggers at me before drifting to James and softening. “Hi, Mister James!” Please. I might barf. “Hello, Clara.” James gave her a tight smile when she entered. “It’s Claire,” she corrected, still smiling prettily at him. Her skirt was inched higher than before. I looked away, squeezing the pencil in my hand. “Are you free? I’ve a few questions, and I need help with some of my sketches.”She wasn’t asking. She was demanding. “I’ll leave.” I stood up, picking up my bag and closing the sketchbook.
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