“Anything, professor.” I was ecstatic about this opportunity. There was nothing they could throw at me I wouldn’t be willing to do to learn from one of the top businesspeople in the world.
My advisor peered at me over the top of his horn-rimmed glasses, reaching up to adjust them while sliding open one of his desk drawers. “We’re interested in developing an undergraduate course about the entrepreneur your internship has been set up with.”
“Okay.” Bubbles of elation still traveled through my veins. “If you’d let me know the information required, I’ll be sure to collect it while I’m there.”
He pulled out a thick manila envelope and placed it down in front of him, laying his hands over the top of it. “This is the material of a similar course to the one we’re looking at developing. It would be useful if you could look over this for a start. I’ve also included a list of basic information we’d need, as well as a rough-draft curriculum.”
I nodded. “I understand. You need me to populate the items in the curriculum in its current form and to trim and tailor it as I learn about them.”
Professor McDonald smiled, looking mighty pleased with himself. “You’re quite right. I knew you were the best candidate for the job.”
The hummingbird started doing its thing in my chest again. I couldn’t believe I’d actually gotten chosen for this. In two weeks, I’d be hopping on a plane to the other side of the world. I’d get to explore another country while helping to develop a course for future students and I’d get to learn from the best.
It was just mind blowing.
It didn’t mean there wasn’t a tiny twinge of sadness in my heart that I’d be leaving Oxford, but I was ready for this journey.
I’d be back here for graduation, after all. As much as I loved this town, not even the thought of leaving could dampen my enthusiasm.
The professor slid the envelope across his desk. “If you have any questions about what we expect of you, please let me know. I’ll also need your proposal for your final report before you leave. We’ll set up another meeting to go over that once I’ve received it.”
My body jerked. “Oh, I already have it ready for you.”
I couldn’t believe I’d almost forgotten about it. Leaning over, I unzipped the top of my backpack and pulled out the navy-blue folder containing my proposal.
Professor McDonald took it from me with a shake of his head but a smile on his lips. His chest was also puffed out just a little more than usual. “I should have known you’d have it ready ten days early.”
He flipped through the papers briefly before lifting his gaze back to mine. “This is why I’m so sure you’re going to make us proud, Roselyn. You always do.”
I blinked in surprise. My advisor didn’t exactly dish out compliments regularly. Darn. This day just can’t get any better.
“Thank you, professor.” The events of the last ten minutes had me feeling some kind of way, and I couldn’t quite contain my excitement any longer. “So, who’s my mentor going to be?”
“That’s the best part.” He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together, a totally uncharacteristic cheeky grin spreading on his lips. “You’re in for a treat, my dear Roselyn. We’re exceptionally proud of the department’s brand-new association with this man. It’s Jude Hudson. Can you believe it?”
Blood rushed in my ears. My heart thudded dully in my chest and my mouth dried up.
No. No, I really couldn’t believe it.
Chapter 2
JUDE
The pounding bassline of the music fought for control of my heartbeat. Where we were seated in the VIP section of the current it club in Sydney, the lights were turned down low. Above the main dance floor, strobe lights flashed red, green, and blue.
The girl straddling my lap tossed down a shot of top-shelf tequila, twisting at the waist to slam her shot glass down on the table. She threw her hands in the air, grinning down at me with her platinum-blonde hair forming a curtain around our heads.
“Fuck yeah, Jude,” she yelled, moving her narrow hips to the rhythm of the music. “That was great. Let’s get more.”
“Sure.” I had no idea who she was, but who was I to turn down a beautiful woman asking for a drink?
My arms were draped over the back of the bench in my booth. I barely had to lift a finger before a server appeared next to our table like magic.
Only, it wasn’t magic. It was money.
I had it, I spent a ton of it here, and the guy holding the tray knew it. “What can I get for you, Mr. Hudson?”
“Another round.” I grinned when a cheer went up around my table. “And ten more bottles of that champagne.”
The silver buckets standing at either end of the bench were looking a little low. The server glanced at them, nodded, and rushed off.
“That’s nearly ten grand worth of alcohol you just ordered,” Shane, my best friend and PR guy, said at my side. There was a woman sitting on his lap, too, but he brushed her off and turned to face me. “That’s just irresponsible, dude. Why don’t we dial it back a bit?”
“Nah.” I grinned and reached up to clasp his shoulder, giving him a little shake. “You need to loosen up, Shane-O. It’s Saturday night, we’re surrounded by beautiful girls, good booze, and envied by everyone out there in the pleb section. Let’s enjoy it, shall we?”
I was in my fucking element there. Dialing it back was not my idea of a good time, and that was what I was after tonight.
Everyone passing by recognized me, waving and calling out to get my attention.
I waved back at the latest group passing by our booth. “What’s up, guys?”
The two men had their arms around women, and both grinned when I acknowledged them. One took a step closer, but a bouncer guarding our booth stopped him.
He didn’t look too fazed by it, shooting me a smirk as he held up his hands as if to show he came in peace.
He eyed the women sitting with us. “We’re good, Hudson. Having a good night?”
“The fucking best,” I replied, then turned back to Shane. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the guys lingering near us, but they knew they’d been dismissed.
Just because everyone knew who I was didn’t mean I wanted to make friends.
Shane sighed, shaking his head at me. “That was rude.”
“No, it was rude of them to assume they could approach us.” I took a sip from my champagne flute. “They don’t know us. We don’t have to let them sit at our table.”
“You’re an asshole.” He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. “Fuck knows why I stick around.”
“You stick around because you love me. I might be an asshole, but I’m your asshole.” I watched his curly hair bounce as he shook his head at me again.
“How’s it hanging, Jude?” a marketing manager who had taken care of a few campaigns for me called. The guy wore a suit as shiny as the sequins on the dress of the girl hanging off his arm, with a shark-like smile spreading on his face when he saw me.
“All good, bro.” I gave him a salute.