The Professional Novels & Stories

She knocked on the door and a deep voice answered. "Come in," Adrian said from inside. Juliet pushed the door open and the office smelled like coffee and old books. Adrian sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, showing strong forearms. He looked up when she entered and leaned back in his chair. "Miss Sinclair. Close the door and have a seat." She shut the door softly and sat down across from him. Her hands stayed in her lap so he wouldn't see them shake. "You wanted to see me about my paper, Professor?" She asked.

One wrong move on my part, and I will be stepped aside. "Okay, I believe I was not professional about this which I should have been." I said. "You should have." He replied. "We will work together, but promise me you would be nothing but professional too and won't talk to me in the manner you did a moment ago." "Why? Got you all worked up?" "Noah-" "Okay, relax I will try to be as professional as possible.. Or not."

She rounds the car to stand in the middle of us. “Xavier, this is lexie. She's the girl I told you about. She's renting out the other room from me. Lexie, this is xavier. He owns the apartment complex.” I smile at him. “Hello, xavier.” He returns the smile, his teeth flashing as he stares at me happily. “Hellp, lexie. It's wonderful to meet you. I would shake your hand, but you know.” He points his eyes towards his full hands.

"I know you'd say that, Ms. Javier kaya nga gusto kong makipagdeal sa'yo. A deal between two professionals." Now it's turn for my brow to arch up when he mentioned that 'professional' thing. Being reminded with something about that word. "The last time you've mentioned that 'professional' word, pinapagalitan mo'ko because I was no professional with you." The bastard just shrugged his shoulder then folded his arms bang makalapit ito sa'kin. "Whatever you say, Ms. Javier. Just hear me out now. You won't know, magugustuhan mo rin pala ang deal na'to."

Will she really be seeing them all the time, as far as she knows, two of them are her professors. "Good morning. My name is Alistair King. I will be your professor for this year. You may only call me Professor King, and if I call on you, the reply is Sir, nothing else. Now in this class, I want contribution, utmost respect for me and eachother. This class is going to be difficult and if you feel like you can't handle it, walk out now. I will not be dealing with complaints at the end of any test or exams. Assignments will be given at the end of the week, individually or in groups, and every mark counts."

No one messes with The Taheri. "I understand completely, cousin Ghazi. Now, let me take out the trash while you check our balance sheets in the comfort of my office downstairs." Zal lazily stepped up to the landing and the bald overweight foreman was visually shaking now, tears were falling down his cheeks and he looked at Zal shaking his head frantically, apologizing repeatedly while he move backward further onto the ledge of the unfinished seventh floor of the new twenty-floor office building.

I nееd to knоw what hе thіnkѕ whаt a rеаl рrоfеѕѕіоnаl thinks, not ѕоmеоnе I’m ѕlееріng with. Agent Cоореr рlасеѕ thе tip оf hіѕ раlmѕ tоgеthеr, mаkіng a руrаmіd оf hіѕ hands. It rеmіndѕ mе of a рrоfеѕѕоr.

Adrian woke the next morning with that awful sense of trying hovering over him—trying to be steady, trying to be composed, trying to put himself back into the body of a man who hadn’t nearly lost control on his office desk twenty-four hours earlier. He showered with water too hot, dressed with movements that felt stiff and deliberate, and repeated the same mantra as he buttoned his shirt: Professional. Distant. Responsible. It felt like a lie by the third button. By the fifth, it felt like a joke.

One beat longer than a professional pause. Just one beat. But it was there. "Professional courtesy," he said. I looked at the middle distance. He said it evenly. Cleanly. The words were entirely plausible and the delivery was practiced and there was nothing in the sentence itself that wasn't professionally defensible. But the pause had been there. One beat. Just one.

My bosom was pressed against his chest. " There is nothing between him and me. It is absolutely professional. " I tried to explain but he was hell-bent to think the worst about me. " Professional?? Oh, so you are professional? So whom can people contact if they want your professional services? What are the special treatments that you give to your clients, which make you better than the others? " He asked. I really wanted to kill him. " Shut up!! I don't entertain my clients in the way you are implying, I design their homes. That is my profession. " I yelled at him.