I Drank Too Much at My Professor's House, Then Married His Son

Synopsis

On the second of January, I got drunk at my professor, Richard Foster's, house. Not a little drunk either. I was slurring and saying whatever came into my head. "Mrs. Foster!" I raised my glass and wobbled to my feet. "Let me tell you something. If I ever get married, it's going to be to a guy like Professor Foster. He knows his field, he takes care of his family, and he treats his wife like a queen." Richard was sitting across from me, and he nearly dropped his fork. Richard's wife, Linda, was doubled over laughing. "Emily, Richard is taken," Linda said, wiping her eyes. "He does have a son, though. You might want to think about that." "A son?" I squinted at Richard. "You have a son? What's he like? Does he look like you?" Richard cleared his throat. "Emily, you've had too much to drink." "He is," Linda said, faster than anyone. "He's better looking than his father was at that age. Thirty-one, never married, no girlfriend, and he has everything going for him." I slammed my hand on the table. "Then what are we waiting for?" Everyone at the table laughed. After that, I had no idea how much more nonsense I spouted. All I remembered was being half awake while someone helped me into the guest room, took my coat off, and set a glass of water by the bed. The hand was steady, with long, elegant fingers.