Page 14 of Love Under Snowfall

“That’s great. Is there anything else?” Benjamin sighed,suddenly feeling very exhausted.

“You do realize that if this all goes well, there is an almost guaranteed chance that your tenure will finally be approved. Think of the security. Think of the prestige.” He leaned forward. “Think of the raise.”

“Tenure,” Benjamin muttered. “I submitted my application for consideration almost a year ago.”

“Yes, and I am certain that Miss Miller’s successful completion of your class will grease the wheels, so to speak.”

Interesting.

Benjamin deserved tenure. He worked harder than any of his peers and his dedication to the university was unparalleled. He barely had a social life because he was practically married to his job. But for whatever reason, he hadn’t been approved yet. And now he was starting to see why. Could it be possible that Dean McCaffery requested the tenure committee hold off on the approval so Benjamin could be under his thumb for a little longer? Just long enough for this hairbrained interdisciplinary nonsense to come to fruition? He could feel the heat rise in his chest.

“Well.” The dean tapped an arthritic knuckle on the desk as he stood to leave. “If there is nothing else, I must be off. Reviews to complete. Funds to raise. You know, dean stuff.”

McCaffery opened the door, but before exiting turned back to his subordinate. “Between the stains on your shirt and the hair”—he gestured to Benjamin’s mussed appearance—“you may want to pay more attention to grooming. If tenure’s still your goal, that is.”

Before he could respond, his boss closed the door behind him, leaving Benjamin alone with his scorn and too many thoughts assaulting his brain.

In the span of a measly fifteen minutes, he’d realized his lustful feelings for one of his students and learned that his bosswas using him as a puppet by withholding tenure.

He dragged his hands down his face. “I need to go for another run.”

Looking at his watch, he groaned again. Three minutes until nine. His family law class was about to begin. Benjamin felt completely drained but pulled himself up anyway. He shrugged into his navy blazer, noticed it had taken the brunt of the chocolate shake incident, and tossed it back onto his chair. He snatched up his briefcase and hastily shoved fistfuls of papers through the zippered top then marched out of the office.

He was going to have to grin and bear it because, for the next four weeks, the dean of the law school owned him. So, like it or not, he was going to have to do what he could to ethically ensure Miss Miller’s successful completion of family law.

His hopes of tenure depended on it.

Hiscareerdepended on it.

Chapter eight

Frankie

Frankie continued to ride the high of passing her family law midterm all the way to her assigned seat.

Earlier that morning, she’d shrieked and squealed so loudly that Todd had come thundering out of his room wielding a massive platform shoe. Upon hearing her fantastic news, he’d patted her head.

“We’ll celebrate later,” he’d groaned through a yawn and slogged back to bed.

The classroom buzzed uncharacteristically with chatter and excitement, most likely resulting from the receipt of exam results. She made her way to her seat, front and center, noticing there weren’t as many students there as usual. She wondered if it had something to do with the exam scores. Perhaps some people took today off to celebrate. More likely, those who hadn’t secured a passing grade made the decision not to show.

Settling in and glancing up to the front of the class, Frankie noticed that one person was most definitely missing. Professor Clark. He was always there when she arrived. It didn’t matter if she was five or fifteen minutes early. He managed to beat her there every time. Mean mugging her as she walked to her seat. She typically felt it like a flame on her neck. And every class session his pointed glower made her tingle uneasily. But today . . . no glaring. No professor. Two minutes ’til class.

Hmm . . . curious.

Frankie skimmed through the highlighted sections of her notes.

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and Professor Clark strode into the lecture hall.

No, that wasn’t quite accurate. He normally strode around with an air of contemptuous confidence. But not today. Today, he sort of scrambled to the lectern. His typically impeccable grooming not quite meeting its usual muster. He wasn’t wearing a blazer, but instead only his white dress shirt with a few splatters of what looked like chocolate milk across his left shoulder. His top two buttons were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing tanned, powerful forearms. His hair fell about his forehead like he had been running his hands through it all morning. And instead of his briefcase slung over a shoulder, he gripped it to his chest with both arms, a few pieces of paper sticking out of the unzipped top.

He looked caught off guard.

He looked stressed.

He looked like someone else completely.

As he did his best to settle at the head of the classroom, Frankie wondered what had happened to throw him off that morning. She bit her lip, fighting the prideful grin spreading across her face. Maybe he was upset that she'd passed. He clearly disliked her and would have rejoiced if she'd failed out. That was probably it. Ha! She sat up a little straighter and prepared herself. There was no doubt that he was going to come at her with all his might this session.

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