Knee Deep || BDSM

Chapter 9 ~ Miss Marsden

I wake up from a melatonin-induced coma at the crack of 5:00 a.m. for my first day of teaching. I am a conundrum of nerves as I sit up in bed under the glow of Big Ben. But there are glimmers: no more facing an arrogant Corporate Yuppies like Jamie everyday. No more fiddling with useless prototypes and mindless paragraph writing. No more claustrophobia in my cubicle.

When I have a look at the outfit I chose: a soft cream button-up cardigan, a soft, long cream skirt to match with my loafers, I'm reminded that my dress code will be entirely different than in the fiercely individualistic and supremely formal aspects of the corporate world. The school would be far more amicable and soft-natured. My wide array of fashion choices from the old-money aesthetic to Vivienne Westwood's retro grunge would have to be retired for now.

As I climb into my outfit, I stare in the mirror and I practically look as frumpy as I did in the nightgown I naughtily put on for Cameron. He'd hate to see me in something like this, hiding my figure.

I tiptoe down the creaky halls of my flat and make my own coffee, realizing at that moment just how much I missed my own floral blend. Not so smoky and rich like Mister's.

After an everything bagel (and still no eggs no matter what Xavier says), swaddling myself in my puffy winter coat, a big scarf, and a fuzzy pair of black earmuffs and I'm off for my first day of school.

"Welcome, Miss Alexa," Ruth, the headmaster who interviewed me, welcomes me in as she leads me to the principal's office to meet the man who would be supervising me throughout the day.

"Good morning," the man says to me upon sitting up from his desk. "Aadi Mohammad. You must be Alexa."

"Yes, good to meet you," I reach out my hand and my attention is caught by his mysterious chocolate brown eyes, framed by deightfully curly dark lashes, round black curls swooping across his thick brows.

His stare lingers on me and he smiles with a perfect set of teeth, his whole office smelling like his cologne. I chew over the idea that Mr. Mohammad could become a "workplace problem" for me due to his stunning looks, yougness and the way he looks at me. But I take a glance and see a photo of he and a woman with skin darker than himself, each wrapped in traditional wedding suits, nose-to-nose and presumably as happy as can be.

I glance back at him, searching for words, "I hope you had a lovely winter break?"

Mr. Mohammad nods, "Yes, indeed. My wife's a lawyer so she never gets the day off. But it was good to get some time for self-care. Men need it too."

I nod, "Absolutely. Can't go wrong with self-care."

His perfectly styled beard across his firm jawline is what I catch next as he smiles with deeply creased dimples, "Do you have any questions?"

"Well, your training packet was excellent and I met the receptionist, Miss Jones when I set up my classroom the other week. I suppose if I need anything more I know where to find you?"

"Yes," he nods. "I'm always just a knock away."

"Thank you sir, it was good to meet you," I shake his hand once more as I exit down the hall to where I will be setting up camp.

I nervously sit at my desk for all but five minutes until Miss Rose enters the room. She's adorably plump with crazy blonde curls cascading down her back, her black blazer and slacks scattered with I presume to be pet fur.

"You must be Miss Rose," I beam.

"Oh, look at you. You're absolutely dazzling," she marvels at me. "Just like your photo."

"Why thank you!"

"I've heard nothing but great things about you. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to connect with you earlier but I promise I'll help all the children get adjusted to you today."