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W I C K E D
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Chapter Three - Yes Sir, No Sir, Three Blonde's Full
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In the eyes of the world Amna Hassan represented the embodiment of calm, collected sensibility.
The truth was slightly different.
While Amna Hassan, was indeed an immensely capable young woman, and while her sensible McGonagall-ish hair bun did indeed give the impression that she was rational, she wasn't. Not really.
This was her dirty little secret.
While to most this may not seem to be much of a secret at all, when you were the daughter of the Indian Ambassador to Australia,
"… the slimy little Karakoff-Pettigrew offspring… I wonder if his parents know what a dirty little worm he is, I bet they don't I'll bet …Not that I care…why would I care?…just because Dean Barrymore breaks out into a display of her pearly white just at the sight of him…stupid cow… "
The truth was in fact, that Amna was about as calm as a Weasley with a temperament to match.
This little fact however was something only a handful of people knew. Which was why when pristine princess of perfection Amna Hassan, sat cross-legged in the middle of the courtyard, mumbling to herself after having walked out of a classroom for the first time in her entire life, she garnered quite a few curious looks and a number of concerned comments rushed through the hallowed halls of Montclair's a few comments that found their way to one seemingly all knowing, outrageously good looking 'professor'.
***
"Oh I really can't give out student information Mr. Raizada…it's against Montclair's privacy policy…and you…"
"And I?" cut in Aryan smoothly as he bent in closer to Counselor Tremaine's already heaving bosom, as he rested his chin boyishly on one hand the other sneaking up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"You…you should know better!" exclaimed the flustered blonde. Kate Tremaine may be a blonde woman of fair looks, but as a mature woman of forty odd years, and with more than her fair share of puppy weight, the only people who hit on her were pot-bellied old men or stoned university students. The latter very rarely.
To have a fine specimen of the epitome of every woman's smoldering dreams, come straight up to her desk and flirt with her in that faint British accent, while she drowned in his oh so perfect half smile, was doing things to Kate. Things she really didn't want to admit.
But that didn't mean she could just give out student files, even if they were giving him a hard time, and he just wanted to help. Could she?
*
Aryan didn't have to slip a satin smooth thumb down the inside of Kate Tremaine's wrist, to know the ditzy guidance counselor was on the verge of giving in.
That however didn't mean he didn't. Sexual Banter was a tool Aryan Singh Raizada not only wielded but one he relished.
If a little flirtation helped him get access to files he'd have had to snoop through otherwise, why the hell not? Erin Brockovich had boobs, Aryan Raizada had charm. Potato-Patato as far as he was concerned.
In fact it was with that very thought in mind that a mere quarter of an hour later, Aryan Singh Raizada, sat with his feet propped up on his solid wood desk, complete with an old-school apple balanced on the corner of his table, courtesy of the Student Body's Welcoming Committee. How …quaint, he thought silently, as he flipped through page after page of Amna Hassan's studentship files, bending down the odd page or two that had any information he might be able to make use of – Allergies, preferred After-school activities, Charities supported, the works.
His deceptively soft hazel eyes, skimmed down the sheet of nearly useless globs of information.
Allergies: Shrimp, Cashews and Chocolate.
Seriously?
Who the hell was allergic to chocolate?
Co-curricular Activities: Debate Team, Chess Club, Moot Club, Law School Editorial… blah blah blah….
Did this girl have no life?
Irritated Aryan tossed the file carelessly on the table, Amna Hassan was basically a stuck-up little know-it-all, as his last assignment for The Company he'd at least hoped for a little more of a challenge before he settled into his boring white-collar everyday job, an easy on the eyes Mata Hari or at least someone he'd get to slug, but nooo, he got stuck with baby-sitting the corrupt Ambassador's daughter, while everyone else got to go dig dirt up on Daddy Hassan.
And on that very note a sharp rap of knuckles on his door, announced the arrival of his pretty blonde envoy. "Sir."
Aryan smiled broadly, a quick gleam of two perfect rows of flashing white teeth, "Ms. Soren? I assume you've been able to convey my message to your friend?"
As a blonde twenty-three year old Law Student, Jessica Soren, had seen her fair share of player's. She'd also learned how to spot an impeccable bluff, and it was by the grace of that very knowledge that Ms. Soren knew that Mr. Too-Hot-to-Handle here would not despite his earlier threat be throwing Amy out of his class, despite his earlier veiled warning.
At least she hoped not.
"Amna's been indisposed, and hasn't been receiving phone calls," lied Jessica, her baby-blue eyes batting prettily in the face of Amy's Hottie's loop-sided smirk.
"Is that so?"
"Perhaps, I should leave her a message to get back to you once she's better?" she offered, inexplicably nervous suddenly in the face of those all too knowing eyes.
"Perhaps." Conceded Aryan, his distracted gaze enough of a dismissal in itself as he tugged the student file towards himself once more.
397 Castlereagh Street, Haymarket, NSW 2000
He looked back up at wary blue eyes, and smiled again, his slow dimple flashing, knee-weakening smile, as he snapped close the file young Jessica Soren was eyeing suspiciously, "That'll be all Ms. Soren."
And just as Jessica turned heel and vacated his room, Aryan Singh Raizada put in a call on his private line, to his ever trustworthy P.A. Tania Radhik, "Hello love, I need a list of all the tenants at 397 Castlereagh Street…no …just the women…no not lesbians…preferably someone on the same floor as Amna Hassan…there's a room-mate?...yes it's for work…of course I'm not being a prick….yes, I'll call my mother back if you do this…"
***
"Amy are you sure you're alright?" repeated Jessica for the tenth consecutive time as she pretended to be searching the library aisles for a research book as she furtively snuck peeks at her best friend who happened to be sitting cross legged on the floor, a book splayed open in front of her, arms outstretched above her head folded neatly as they came down in front of her in aNamaste-ish motion, "Amy? Amy?! What are you doing?"
"Yoga." Replied Amna succinctly.
"Yoga? Yoga?!" repeated Jessica in a harassed squeak. "Amy you not only practically called the new guy a pervert, you WALKED out of a professors classroom, one who has called in both Keegan AND me to ask where you are and you are going Buddha on me?!"
AHEM.
The loud deliberate clearing of Mrs. Jenkins the Librarians throat was however the least of Jessica's problems and she was just about to turn around and say exactly that when her view was blocked by a blue and yellow jock-jacket.
"Ladies, ladiiies – let's not fight…there's enough of Nick Kashyap to around."
"NK? " whispered Jessica in a hushed murmur.
"Yes love?"
"Shut up!"
* * *
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Author's Note:
Hola Love's consider this a YAY LM is BACK update!
Now don't forget to show some love!!
😆
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Chapter Two - A Study in Stimulation
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