Not Even His Assistant 2

Chapter Seventeen

Ch. 17 - He's a CEO (Greyson POV)

I frantically opened up my email to read a message from Professor Stayber. It was Christmas Eve and I was spending the day at the beach with Liz. We had made it a bit of a tradition, trying to enjoy our holidays, tropical style.

With my mother dying so close to the holidays, I had only missed about a week and a half of school and also finals. Which wasn't a lot, but it was also when most of my assignments were due, or already past due. With so many assignments undone, I had to defer my grades. Which, most professors were understanding, but it meant I'd have to either finish it all during break, or spend the following semester with double the workload if I wanted to finish on time.

No, near-graduating senior should ever have to deal with that.

Because of this, I timidly emailed my toughest professor, asking if there was any way he could possibly drop one of his stupid assignments. It wasn't even the class I had the most assignments in. He only had two projects due and they had the toughest scoring criteria I'd ever seen.

Dear Greyson,

I'm so sorry to hear about the passing of your mother. I send my condolences to you and your family. You've been very active and engaged in class and are currently at a B-. Send me whatever unfinished work you have and if it's on the right track I'll allow your grade to stay at its current average. Good luck and finish strong!

-Dr. Stayber

I nearly cried. I jumped up in excitement and pulled Liz into a crushing hug.

"The toughest professor is giving me a pass! God has really shined his light down on me today!" I threw my phone into my bag and ran out to the ocean jumping into the water.

"Girl! Calm yo' ass down!" Liz walked over. She was wearing this cute galaxy patterned bikini, with a long pink wig she had tied into a bun, high on top of her hair.

She took a few steps into the water, and then sat down in the shallow side.

The beach was decently lively. I could tell most of the occupants were families on vacation for the holidays. Also, being that it was Miami, many retirees were also in attendance, either walking along the beach or sitting in chairs, reading a book.

I joined Liz on the shallow side, sitting and watching as these kids attempted to make a sandcastle, but were using far too much water for the sand to make a solid structure.

The waves came in lightly, washing over our toes and legs. I grabbed clumps of the wet sand and started to create a soggy structure of my own on top of my thigh.

"I don't know why you didn't ditch the wig so you could actually swim with me." I told her. I loved the carefree feeling I got from swimming in the ocean. There were thousands of lifeforms under me, just living and I couldn't even see them. Being in the water meant being a part of them.

"I don't even like swimming. I just want to be cute and feel this sun." She pointed her head to the sky, her huge paparazzi glasses protecting her from going blind.

I rolled my eyes. I remembered a time back when we were kids where she would love swimming with me.

I continued creating my structure, feeling my salty, wet hair stick to my back, and my skin becoming warm from the sun.

"I still can't believe that man," Liz spoke again, and I looked at the sun, hoping I would actually go blind and be forced into an ambulance. That would've been ten times better than the conversation she was about to start. "How could he listen to you bein' honest, kiss you, and then drop you like you ain't shit?"