My Writing Professor: A Lesbian Romance Read online

  “I know you can do it,” he said. “Continue on.” George, still without a smile, sauntered off from me with his hands buried into the pockets of his very expensive dress slacks.

  I breathed a sigh of review and then continued on toward Corinne’s dressing room.

  Standing outside of the closed door, I put my ear up against it for a moment to listen in to see if Corinne was talking with anyone. Hearing nothing, I composed myself and gave three soft knocks. The tension was running through me. I was actually a bit mad at myself for feeling so nervous about talking to her. We had the President on the show one time and I wasn’t even near as nervous meeting him as I was being faced with Corinne Holmstrom. My teachers always told me my priorities were in the wrong place.

  I heard the door unlock, the handle creak, and then it slowly opened up. Behind the door I saw her innocent smile first, face aglow with possibility and hope and just a hint of playfulness. Once she saw me, Corinne recognized me, even though we’d never seen each other before, and she grinned. She pulled the door open wider.

  “Tabitha?” she said. Her blue eyes glimmered. Her beautiful blonde hair was pulled up in a bun and she was dressed down, more than I’d ever seen, wearing jeans and a hoodie.

  “That’s me,” I said sheepishly. “And you’re most definitely Corinne Holmstrom.”

  “I’ve heard so much about you,” said Corinne. “Come on in.”

  I entered the dressing room, a room I’d been in hundreds of times as I always met with our guest stars, and shut the door behind me. Corinne maneuvered away from me and toward the couch. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her butt, which looked nice and firm underneath the thin denim of her pants. I wanted to smack myself in the face to try to get a grip, but I knew that would probably look quite weird to her.

  “All good I hope,” I said after much too long of a beat.

  “What?” said Corinne, sitting, turning toward me. I took a seat in the chair across from the couch, a coffee table between us, my notebook in my lap.

  “What you heard about me,” I said, attempting to clarify. “I waited too long to say that.” Corinne laughed softly. She was stunning, even when dressed down. Her complexion looked so pure. I mean, she just oozed celebrity.

  “Well, they all talk you up around here,” she said. “They say you’re the funny one.”

  “Aw shucks,” I said with a mock shyness. “I’m just a girl from the farm.”

  “Well, it’s really nice to meet you, Tabitha,” said Corinne with an endearing smile.

  “Tab,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Tab,” I repeated. “You can, you know, call me Tab. That’s what everyone calls me. They only call me Tabitha when they’re mad at me. It’s like I’m working with dozens of my mothers.”

  “Okay,” said Corinne with a laugh. She pulled one leg up onto the couch and sat on it. “Well, Tab, I am so excited about doing This Saturday. It’s been a dream of mine since I was a little girl.”

  “Did you get the sketches?” I asked. “They’re just drafts, we’re working them out and have a meeting later to tighten things up.”

  “I did,” said Corinne. “Funny. I can already feel my heart racing. Live TV. Wow!”

  “We’re still working on that cornerstone sketch, you know?” I said. “The one that people are going to talk about, millions of views on the internet. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Me?” asked Corinne with genuine surprise. “You want me to pitch an idea?”

  “Sure,” I said. “We always ask the guest if they want to do anything. You’re the star, after all. If there’s a recurring sketch you want to be a part of, we can make that happen. If you have a funny idea you’ve been holding on to, we can try to work with it. Hit me with it, C,” I said, trying to imitate a hip hop intonation. “Gimme the cheddar, Holmie.”

  “Holmie?” repeated Corinne, her blue eyes wide, her smile growing. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “You get it?” I said. “Your last name…”

  “I get it,” she said, nodding with an irrepressible smile. “You’re hilarious, Tab.”

  “People say that,” I said. “But I just feel like I’m in a coma or something and this is the imaginary world I’ve built up for myself.”

  “Sometimes I feel like that, too,” said Corinne. “You may not know this about me, but I was always kind of a geek growing up. I was a theater geek in high school but as soon as I sprouted these tits,” she said, her eyes getting big, her hands spreading out in front of her breasts. “Well, it all sort of became easier.”

  “That would have been nice,” I said. “I grew a hunchback and got half-chewed caramels lobbed in my hair. Funny how things work out.”

  “Stop,” said Corinne, laughing louder.

  “Okay,” I said, feeling like a deer in headlights. But I couldn’t stop. As I inspired laughter from Corinne, taking in her winning smile, her lucid eyes, her fair face, I couldn’t help but yearn for more of the positive reaction.

  “So I do have an idea,” admitted Corinne, looking down with slight embarrassment. “Do you want to hear it?”

  “Of course,” I said. “By all means. We could use the help.”

  “All right,” said Corinne, smiling to herself and looking off as she considered her idea. “And look, if it’s not funny or you don’t want to do it, just tell me,” she said. “It won’t hurt my feelings.”

  “You got it,” I said.

  “So I’ve always wanted to sing on This Saturday,” she said. “Like, break into a funny song in a sketch.”

  “You sing?” I said in surprise.

  “Yeah,” said Corinne, her face growing in excitement. “I love to sing. So my idea is that I’m a waitress at a diner. You know how sometimes at diners they have weird names for specific foods?”

  “Burn one with wax and flop two!” I called out, making a dumb face. Corinne giggled back into the couch and clapped.

  “Exactly!” she said. “That’s totally it!”

  “So you want to sing that?” I asked.

  “Well, okay,” she continued. “So when I give the orders to the cook, I break into song with a couple of other waitresses,” said Corinne, going over the sketch in her head like she’d been thinking of it for a while. “But everybody else thinks it’s super crazy. The diners are freaked out by it. The cook, the manager. People think I’m nuts!”

  “Yeah,” I said, getting excited, seeing her vision. “I could get on board with this.”

  “Really?” she said. Corinne was full of wonder, brilliance emanating from her eyes.

  “Yeah,” I repeated. “We could start out with legitimate diner speak, but it would just devolve into insanity. Poke two in the boob, yank on a bumpkin, and slobber a Satanist!” This really set Corinne off. She was cracking up and it made me furiously happy.

  “Right!” she cried. “Oh God, that sounds like so much fun.”

  “We’ll do it,” I affirmed. “Well, we’ll write it and rehearse it. George has the final say. Stuff gets cut on Saturday all the time. I’ll let him know it’s your sketch, though.”

  “Wow,” said Corinne. I could tell that she was pleased. “I mean, that would just be so awesome.”

  “The singing adds another level of complexity to it,” I said. “But yeah, totally doable. Funny idea and it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Thanks Tab,” Corinne said in earnest. Our eyes caught on one another for a moment, gazing in silence, both of us with silly grins on our faces. The moment began to feel awkward to me, like it was a little too exciting, like there was something strange and alluring in the air. I broke from our shared stare and shook my head once.

  “Um,” I murmured, knowing I had to say something to move the conversation along but unsure what exactly that should be after our charged little moment. “Are you, um, single?” I asked, suddenly regretting it. Why would I ask something like that? I mean, I know why I’d ask something like that and you know why I’d ask something like that, but
it really didn’t make sense in regards to our conversation about the show. “The reason I ask—“

  “I am,” said Corinne matter-of-factly with a reassuring smile.

  “I mean, I ask because we’re working on the opening monologue for you,” I went on, trying to justify myself with a lie. I had to think fast. “It’ll be, like, the guys in the cast heard you were single and all come up to you with bouquets of flowers to try to win your affection but you turn them all down.” That wasn’t what we had planned for the monologue but it was actually a really good idea. It’s amazing when creativity just comes to you spur of the moment.

  “I like it,” said Corinne.

  “So you’re single?” I asked again, even though she’d already answered. Just to be sure, you know. “I don’t really keep up on the tabloids.”

  “Yes,” she said. “And I try to stay out of the tabloids.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “I can just see them now… ‘Holmstrom Goes Home With This Saturday Cast Member!’” I motioned in the air with my hand like I was calling out a headline.

  “Right,” said Corinne through a laugh. “Couldn’t have that.”

  “You wouldn’t like the guys around here anyway,” I said, waving nonchalantly. “They’re all damaged comedians with mommy issues.”

  “Is that so?” she giggled. “What about you?”

  “Me?” I was surprised that she had turned it on me.

  “Yeah, you,” said Corinne. “Are you a damaged comedian with… daddy issues?”

  “No,” I said. “I probably also have mommy issues like the rest.”

  “You’re cute, Tab,” said Corinne. There was an odd fire burning in her eyes as we looked at each other. I’d seen that kind of fire before. It was desire. I wanted to test my pulse but I was sure that would look undeniably weird. I had promised myself for every New Year’s Resolution over the past who knows how many years that I would make an effort to be less weird.

  “I—“ I said, stammering. “I mean, me? No, I mean… thanks?”

  “I just like… funny women,” admitted Corinne with a sheepish smile. “It’s my weakness.”

  “I, um… if I heard you correctly—“

  “You did,” said Corinne curtly.

  “Okay,” I said, feeling quite nervous now. I took my notebook from my lap, rolling it up, and half waved it across the coffee table at Corinne. “Good. Productive. I think we’re going to have a great show.”

  “I think so, too,” purred Corinne. She was beginning to drip with flirtation. I think that she was so used to getting what she wanted that being assertive had become second nature to her.

  “Nice,” I said, standing up now. Corinne watched me with a smile permanently etched on her face. “I’ll let you know about the sketch. And I’ll let production know you’re ready for a walk through. Cool?”

  “Cool, Tab,” she said.

  “Thanks Corinne,” I said, feeling in a hurry to get out of there. I don’t know why. Just excitement. Nerves. “Gotta get moving!”

  “Goodbye,” I heard Corinne say as I anxiously rushed toward the door and let myself out.

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  CHEF CUTEGIRL

  I WANTED to make my move but there was just that hint of nervousness bubbling in the pit of my stomach, causing me a subtle ache, as I anticipated what might happen between us. But I was a leader, a risk taker, a girl who knew what she wanted and I most certainly wanted Raina.

  Emily Gold, head chef for one of Chicago’s most acclaimed French restaurants, is about to have her life turned upside down. She’s been picked to compete on the hit reality TV show Hot Chef! Everything has been falling into place for Emily in regards to her career as a budding culinary mastermind. But when you dedicate as much of your life to your work as Emily has, some things are bound to slip away from you… like your love life.

  All of that is about to change for Emily, however, when she’s introduced to one of her fellow competitors. Raina appears to be introverted and sweet on the outside, but inside of her burns a flame of culinary talent that instantly draws Emily in. The two become fast friends and as the heat in the kitchen grows, so does the heat in their relationship. But reality TV is never drama free, as both Emily and Raina soon discover.

  Will the desire Emily feels for her beautiful competitor overcome her desire to win Hot Chef? Or will this behind the scenes romance come out of the oven undercooked? Emily is determined to have it all, a great career and a partner to share it with, but the realities of unscripted television might just be writing a different script for this driven young chef.

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  SWEETHEART STARLET

  IF I say something and you crack up, I’m bursting inside with happiness. And making someone like Corinne laugh, super starlet, sex symbol, girl I’m just totally stupidly infatuated with, yeah, that was like magic.

  Tabitha Bloom has a pretty frenetic life. As head writer for the venerated live sketch comedy show This Saturday, her job is to make people laugh. But she’s spent so much of her time with her head down, her life buried in work, that she hasn’t stopped for a moment to see how far she’s come and what she’s achieved. No time for self-reflection when you have a live show to put together. And, of course, no time for a relationship either.

  But when Corinne Holmstrom guest hosts the show, Tab can’t help but be starstruck over the mega celebrity actress. Who could blame her? Corinne is beautiful, famous, successful and… is she coming on to Tab? There’s no way that Corinne is a lesbian, she always dates the hunkiest Hollywood actors. Best to just forget about her. Move on. Get back to work. Still, there’s something about Corinne that Tab can’t shake and this sweetheart starlet is too special to ignore.

  Will Tab find the romance she’s been seeking in this young Hollywood actress? Or will the pressures that fame has put on Corinne cause this romantic comedy to bomb? With the public watching your every move, it’s no wonder Hollywood’s elite are so secretive… something Tab is about to learn first hand.

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  DORMITORY DEAREST

  THERE WAS something so special to me about Hosannah, so perfect and so right. She came to me at a time in my life that I needed her most.

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  Enter Hosannah. Bright, funny, really pretty, a junior living in Natasha’s dorm. Hosannah was like a liberated version of Natasha, a girl who knew who she was and what she wanted. But having been burned in the past, Hosannah had no time for girls who couldn’t admit their personal truths. Natasha knew that Hosannah could help her come out of her shell, but would she be able to take the first step alone?

  Can this college romance blossom into a wonderful coming out for Natasha? Or will Hosannah’s patience for her uncertainty run thin? Coming-of-age indecision peppered with a dash of anxiety can really throw a girl for a loop. Lucky for Natasha the answer lives just two floors up.

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