As the clock ticked past eight, Lisa entered Professor Evans’ office, her textbooks clutched nervously in her hands. The room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over the shelves filled with academic journals and old tomes. Dressed in a fitted blouse and a pencil skirt, she hoped her attire might shift his attention.

“Good evening, Professor,” she said, her voice deliberately soft. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

Professor Evans looked up from his desk, his eyes briefly scanning her form. “Of course, Lisa. What seems to be the trouble?”

“I’ve been struggling with the material,” she said, leaning forward slightly, her blouse revealing a hint of cleavage. “I need a passing grade.”

He gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit down, let’s see what we can do.”

As they studied, Lisa occasionally brushed her leg against his or let her fingers linger on his hand as he handed her notes. Each time, Professor Evans seemed unaffected, focused on explaining complex theories with patience.

Growing bolder, Lisa let a pencil drop and bent over to pick it up slowly, her skirt riding up. She glanced up to see his reaction, but his gaze remained fixed on the textbook.

“Lisa,” he finally said, meeting her eyes with a knowing look, “you’re a bright student. Focus on your studies, and you’ll do just fine.”

Realizing her subtle attempts were futile, Lisa sighed and returned to the material, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Professor Evans continued the lesson, unfazed, maintaining his professionalism.

What happens next?