One Night With My Alpha Professor by Eve Above Story

I Chapter 245 Audrey "You keep staring at that place," Avis laughed. "Why don't you just go in?" "Hm?" I whipped my head around at the sound of my friend's voice, momentarily causing my neck muscles to ache in protest. Avis was smirking atfrom behind her sewing machine. "Oh... I wasn't staring," I lied. Avis giggled and shook her head as she returned to her work. "Yeah, okay. It's not like you've been folding the spiece of cloth and sighing wistfully at the window for the past five minutes." My cheeks flushed red at that. I quickly turned away from the large window, trying my best to shove the image of the empty storefront out of my mind.

"You really could go, you know," Avis said as she pushed the fabric through the sewing machine. "I'll be fine here. You've helped enough today." I shook my head and sat down in the plush armchair, picking up a needle and thread to get to work repairing the beading on a dress for one of Avis's clients. "No, no. I promised to help, and I'm here to help." Avis rolled her eyes at my insistence, but ultimately couldn't argue with the promise of more help.

This was our usual Saturday routine; I liked helping my friend, so I'd cby and give her a hand with her tailoring orders for a few hours. Avis always offered to pay me, but I always refused, telling her she could just buy a coffee forinstead. Truthfully, I just needed something to do on Saturdays. Something to getout of the house because I was, for all intents and purposes, still an unemployed bum living under Edwin's roof. as his wife and his Luna, yes. And I had more responsibilities now as the Silver Star, that much was true.

But I still hadn't quite decided what I wanted to do for a career, and I was growing more and more indecisive by the day. And so that storefront across the street from Avis's place sat empty. Taunting me.

It wasn't empty today, though. Today, there was an open house going on, and there was a steady stream of potential buyers making their way in and out of the empty old thrift shop. I wondered if a new clothing shop might open, or maybe a coffee shop, or- Tem." The sound of Avis clearing her throat hadwhipping my head over again, only to find her now standing besidewith her hands on her hips.

"If you're just going to sit there and stare out the window all day, can I at least take that dress from you so I can get my orders finished?" Before I could answer, Avis yanked the dress and the thread-which I'd strung all of three beads onto before I'd begun daydreaming again-out of my hands. I blushed much more deeply this time.

"Okay, I guess I have been lost in thought," I admitted, running a hand through my silver streak. "But I can't help it. That place is just so...' "Perfect for you?" Avis leaned toward the window and peered at the little alleyway leading to the front door of the place. The alley itself had an adorable wrought iron arch and gate at the front, followed by a few steps leading up to the shop's ornate hardwood door. I could already picture little string lights weaving across the alley and potted plants lining the steps...

"Yes," I breathed, standing and walking over to look at the place with her. "If I was going to open a boutique, I think I'd pick that place." Avis shotan amused look. "That's it," she said, setting aside the dress and grabbingby both shoulders. "You're going over there." "But I can't-" "Just look," Avis insisted, already wheelingtoward the door. "Besides, I need to finish this dress and you're a distraction. So go." Before I could answer, my friend was-quite literally-bootingout onto her front stoop and locking the door behind her.

I sighed, sticking my tongue out at her front window-to which she flipped the bird atin response-but marched across. the street anyway. Avis was right; I'd just be looking. I didn't need to commit to anything. And besides, I likely couldn't afford this place even if I wanted, oh, how I wanted to afford it when I stepped in through the front door.

to.

But, The place was exactly as I remembered it, although instead of being stuffed to the brim with overfull clothing racks and piles of shoes, it was spacious and airy.

The hardwood floors creaked pleasantly under my feet as I stepped inside, buttery yellow sunlight seeping in through the large windows that looked out onto the street. A long mahogany counter lined one wall, an old brick fireplace lining the other. "The ceilings are real vintage pressed tín," a voice suddenly said.

I turned to see a real estate agent in a crisp white button down strutting toward me, her heels clicking on the floor. She was II smiles and professionalism, and held a pamphlet out toas I approached. The pamphlet had her non the front: ry Scheiffer.

"They're lovely," I said, taking the pamphlet and following her gaze up toward the bronze-colored fleur de lis ceilings, criss crossed with dark wood beams and industrial light fixtures.

Mary grinned. "If you think that's lovely, you should see the loft upstairs. You seem like the artsy type." She gestured to my wide-legged pants that I'd made myself, my beat-up Converse, and the little top I'd knit by hand just the other day. "It would make a great studio." "Oh, I actually make clothes," I said with a small smile. "But I'm just looking, really." The realtor raised an eyebrow. "The Luna of Crescent, just looking," she teased. "You know, we'd be happy to work with you if there's anything not to your liking. The price is flexible." Out of curiosity, I asked, "How much is this place?" Two storeys, right in the heart of downtown, with craftsmanship like this... I imagined it would be quite a penny. And it was, I realized, when Mary flipped open my pamphlet and pointed to the price.

Oh," I muttered.

Way X