The Caretaker | Levi x OC

Chapter 12

Karma's eyes snapped back into focus when a graded essay plopped onto her desk. It was an analysis of D'latique's classics. Karma frowned at the large "B" written in red ink. She was tempted to confront her professor, Wickham Moriano, about the things he'd marked her off for. A small grammar mistake. A font he didn't care for. None of these things had to do with Classical Compositions.

Wicked Moron giving you trouble?

What timing. Karma grinned. He had never texted her before-hell, he had never texted anyone before. Was he jealous that she was in Wickham's class and not home with him? She texted back. Loads of trouble, but not as much as the cat's giving you I'm sure.

A couple minutes of eagerly tapping her fingers and glancing at her screen before he replied, I take it you'll be out late practicing again?

Yes plus Sage invited me for drinks tonight. Sorry.

Don't apologize. It's not your fault there's no piano here.

"Miss Karma, please pay attention."

Her whole body flushed. The eyes of her peers rolled toward her. She sunk into her seat. "Sorry, professor."

Then, the words she dreaded most in the world: "See me after class."

When the bell rang, shrill and unforgiving, Karma slugged, gathering her things, delaying the inevitable as the room emptied around her like a funnel. Finally, she approached his desk.

Wickham looked up from his papers. His gold-flecked eyes sparkled with good humor, though there was a definite edge to his easy smile. Something told Karma to keep her guard up.

"Miss Karma." She had told him prior to drop the "miss." It stung that their relationship had deteriorated from a shared familiarity. She squeezed her toes. "I assume you were texting Mr. Ackerman?"

Karma's silence confirmed it.

"Don't worry-you're not in trouble. In fact, I've been hoping for an excuse to talk to you for some time now about Mr. Ackerman."

She wasn't prepared for his next question: "Does he love you?"

The timidness dissolved. Karma was hit with squinting suspicion. "Is that any of your business, professor?"

"Perhaps not. Though it is my place to worry for your well-being. Last I saw you with Mr. Ackerman, you were running away in tears. He didn't even bother to chase after you. In fact, he seemed more concerned with saving face among the guests. Now, why would he prioritize staunching gossip and rumors over chasing after his lover? Any respectable man would do the latter. The only conclusion I could reach was that he simply doesn't love you."

"He-" Karma couldn't finish the sentence. Wickham was right-Levi had never told her he loved her. To say otherwise would be a bold-faced lie. Karma switched tactics. "I would argue that keeping the media happy is understandable for a businessman."

"You mean, keeping them fooled." Wickham held her gaze with smirking eyes. "Am I wrong? Is the media not being fooled by your riveting romance?"

"I love him," Karma supplied.

"I know that much. You wouldn't have rejected me otherwise. However, I have a feeling you will be more complacent this time."

"What?"

"Adalia May is a good friend of mine. She would be very interested to learn that Mr. Ackerman's romantic resurgence to the media has been fabricated. The press would have a hay day-one that's sure to defame Ackerman Enterprises."

Karma's jaw was granite. "You clearly want something."

Wickham smiled, beautiful and serene with a newfound twinge of mischief. How had she ever fallen for that smile? Though he spoke like a gentleman and practiced the appropriate mannerisms, he was wicked. Wicked Moron-Levi had been right all along.