Chapter 3: Rising Action
Emily cautiously opened the door to Oldman's office. The smell of stale tobacco greeted her nostrils, and the dim glow from the overhead lamp cast eerie shadows on the stacks of papers and books.
Oldman, perched on the worn-out leather chair behind the desk, gestured to the seat in front. He cleared his throat, his gaze unwavering from her exposed navel. "Emily, I requested your presence here today to discuss your recent progress in my class."
She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to react.
His gaze, once again, dropped to her exposed stomach. "Ahem. Yes, I've reviewed your latest submissions and noticed some impressive improvements," he finally managed to say. There was an awkward pause, which Emily couldn't help but fill as she adjusted her clothing.
Oldman frowned at her movement, but then smiled thinly.
"Ah, Emily, I apologize if my focus seemed misplaced. I do get carried away with my work sometimes." He waved a hand dismissively, attempting to sweep her discomfort under the rug. "But I digress. Your pieces are indeed of high quality, and I believe we may be on the cusp of great things."
Emily nodded guardedly, unsure of how to respond. She understood that Oldman's praise felt tainted, but she could not deny the lustrous shine in his eyes.