Badass in Disguise Chapter 105

Jade's POV:

The late October heat hung heavy over Princeton's campus, turning the usually crisp fall air into a muggy reminder that climate change was real. I sat in the corner of the university coffee shop, flipping through emails on my phone and enjoying the rare quiet afternoon.

The door to the coffee shop flew open with enough force to make the little bell above it ring twice. Chase Astor burst in, his usually perfect hair disheveled and his designer polo shirt wrinkled. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and his eyes darted around the room with frantic energy until they landed on me.

"Jade!" He rushed over, practically collapsing into the chair across from me. His breathing was heavy, as if he'd been running across campus. "I'm so fucked. I need your help. Like, seriously, I'm dead if you don't help me out here."

I took a deliberate sip of my iced americano and didn't look up from my phone. The cold liquid slid down my throat, a pleasant sensation against the oppressive heat. "No."

"Come on!" Chase leaned forward, desperation written across his face. He ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. "We're practically friends! Remember the race track? We pulled down those European guys' pants together! That's a bonding experience if I've ever had one!"

That memory almost made me smile. Almost. Blake and his crew had been humiliated so thoroughly that night, and Chase had certainly enjoyed playing a part in it. The sight of them running naked through the mud had been particularly satisfying.

"That doesn't make us friends," I replied coolly, scrolling to another email without reading it.

Chase continued his desperate plea for nearly fifteen minutes, throwing out everything from offers of money to promises of future favors. Several other students glanced our way, curious about the usually confident Chase Astor looking so disheveled and panicked. I let him talk himself out, occasionally checking my watch.

Finally, I set my phone down with a soft click against the wooden table. "Say what you need."

Relief washed over Chase's face, his shoulders visibly relaxing. "Thank you! Jesus, I thought you'd never listen." He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up at odd angles. "So my sister invited this Harvard Law professor to give a guest lecture. Prestigious guy, total asshole with an ego the size of Texas. I may have... told him his theory on constitutional interpretation was outdated bullshit."

I raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And I may have added that his latest paper was so derivative it could have been written by a first-year law student with a Wikipedia subscription and a bottle of Adderall." Chase grimaced, tugging at his collar. "In front of the entire faculty lounge."

"The professor stormed out, said his professional pride was wounded, and now he's gone back to Harvard. My sister is on the warpath. She's been hunting me across campus all morning like some kind of designer-wearing predator." Chase groaned, slumping back in his chair dramatically.

"Then just let your sister kick your ass and be done with it," I said, picking up my phone again, the screen illuminating my face. "You won't die from it."

“It's not that simple."

"Money usually fixes these things," I suggested, scrolling through my messages. A barista called out an order in the background, the hiss of the espresso machine punctuating our conversation.

"I tried that. The guy doesn't want money. Says his 'academic integrity' was insulted." Chase made air quotes around the words, rolling his eyes.

I studied Chase for a moment, noting the genuine anxiety in his eyes. "What's your major again?"

"Law." He straightened slightly.

"You?" I couldn't hide my surprise, setting my phone down again. "The guy who illegally races cars, gambles underground, gets into bar fights, and threatens and intimidates people left and right... is studying law?"

Chase had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Family connections. My sister's a professor at Princeton Law. My parents put her in charge of keeping me in line." He laughed humorlessly.

I considered this information, drumming my fingers lightly against the table. The solution seemed obvious. "Call Chris Jensen."

"What?" Chase's eyes widened, his mouth falling open slightly.

"Chris Jensen. He's completely qualified to give a lecture at your school." I said it casually, as if suggesting he order another coffee.

Chase stared at me like I'd suggested we fly to the moon for lunch. "If getting Chris Jensen were that easy, my sister wouldn't bother with some Harvard professor. Jensen is—"

"I know who he is," I cut him off, my tone making it clear further explanation was unnecessary.

"You really think you can get Chris Jensen to give a lecture at Princeton?" A new voice joined our conversation, dripping with condescension.

Aurelia Sullivan stood a few feet away, her perfect blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and a smirk on her face. Her designer sundress looked immaculate despite the heat, and a small group of her usual followers hovered behind her, all wearing similar expressions of smug amusement.

"Someone from the low-income district like you wouldn't understand how the real world works. People like Chris Jensen don't just show up because some nobody asks them to." She adjusted her expensive bracelet, the diamonds catching the light.

Chase stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. The sound drew the attention of everyone in the coffee shop. "Watch your mouth, Sullivan."

Aurelia flinched slightly, her confident facade cracking.

"I don't need your defense," I told Chase calmly before turning to Aurelia. The coffee shop had gone quiet, everyone sensing the brewing confrontation. "What do you want?"

Aurelia recovered quickly, her smirk returning as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. "If you can get Chris Jensen to come lecture at Princeton..." She paused dramatically, glancing at her friends for support. "I'll kneel down and call you 'mother.'"

"You're not worthy," I replied, picking up my coffee and taking a slow sip. The ice clinked against the glass. "Let's make it simple. One million dollars." That'll be Jensen's speaking fee.

Aurelia's eyes widened momentarily before she laughed, though it sounded forced. "Fine. And if you lose, you crawl like a dog in front of the entire school." Her eyes gleamed with malice. "During the homecoming rally. In front of everyone."

Chase slammed his hand on the table, making our drinks jump. "Fuck that. If she wins, you give her the million. If she loses, which she won't, you'll strip in the center of campus. During lunch hour."

Aurelia's face turned scarlet with rage, but she didn't back down. The entire coffee shop was watching now. "Deal. But you can't help her, Chase. No family connections. No pulling strings." She glared at him. "I know how your type operates."

Chase grinned. "She doesn't need my help."

As Aurelia stormed off, her entourage scrambling to keep up with her angry strides, Chase collapsed back into his chair. "Do you have any idea what you just agreed to? Chris Jensen isn't just some lawyer. He's never lost a case, works in legal gray areas most attorneys won't touch, and is notoriously private. The university president tried to get him to speak once. Even the Haxton Group offered him a position in their legal department with an insane salary. He turned them all down flat."

I pulled out my phone and typed a quick message: "Chris. Are you available?"

"Look," Chase lowered his voice, leaning across the table. "If you can't get him, just don't show up that day. I'll spread a rumor that you got sick or something. Food poisoning. No one questions explosive diarrhea."

My phone pinged with a response, but I ignored it for now. "I don't need to cheat."

Chase looked like he wanted to say more, but at that moment, our attention was drawn to a commotion across the coffee shop. Aurelia was holding up her phone, showing something to a group of students who were laughing and looking in our direction. A few were already typing on their own phones, no doubt spreading the news.

"What is she doing?" I asked, though I could guess.

Chase grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Posting about the bet on the university social platform. By the end of this class period, the entire student body will know about it." He sighed. "This is going to be a shitshow either way."

I looked down at my phone as it vibrated in my hand. Chris had replied.