Page 86 of Love Under Snowfall

The highlight reel ended with thoughts of Francesca. He’d done his best to lord over her the previous quarter, to bully her into dropping the class. Fortunately, she was too tenacious. But how many other students in the past had he dressed down, belittled, or intimidated to the point of fleeing his classes? Shame crept up his cheeks. He’d left the law firm to redirect his skills and efforts into positive change. Over the years, he’d even convinced himself that he was making a difference, but the realization that he merely exerted his power in yet another tyrannical way made him sick.

“Are you quite all right, Clark?” Benjamin blinked up at McCaffery, who wore a quizzical expression. “You look a little green around the gills.”

“I’m fine. Just . . .” He searched around for some explanation that wouldn’t reveal the soft underbelly of his internal conflict. “I haven’t had breakfast yet. Too anxious to get into the swing of things again.”

Satisfied, the dean gave a perfunctory nod and leaned back against the pompously maroon leather of his chair. “Understandable.”

“You wanted to see me?” Translation: Get on with whatever this is so I can brood in solitary peace.

Benjamin’s boss silently buffed out his wire-rimmed glasswith an old handkerchief he’d pulled from his breast pocket. After careful attention to the lenses, followed by a quick inspection of the hinged arms, the sparklingly clean eyewear found a home atop a crown of thinning white hair.

“I assumed you would know what this is about.” The thin line of McCaffery’s mouth gave nothing away.

Benjamin found he didn’t love this more emotionally reserved version of the older man and wished he would get on with it. “I do not.”

Wiry white brows peaked. “Hmm. I don’t know if that should be alarming or comforting.”

This game of cat and mouse was nearing the edge of his patience.

“A young woman came by my office yesterday,” he began.

“A young woman . . .”

“Yes, one of whom we are both acquainted,” he said, casually tapping arthritic fingers on the oversized desk. “Perhaps one of us more than the other.”

Oh no. She wouldn’t have. Benjamin schooled his features while anxiety churned in his gut. He never would have thought Frankie would tell Dean McCaffery about their affair. Yes, he’d disappeared from her bed like a spineless cad, neglecting to call a proper end to their rendezvous, but surely that wouldn’t trigger her to take steps that would ultimately end his career. He’d read her incorrectly in the beginning, but that was before he knew her.

So, what woman was his boss talking about?

“And who might that be?”Good, good. Aloof is good.

“Mrs. Clarice Brinnoman.”

Thank god. Benjamin nearly relaxed enough to sink into his chair, but he quickly remembered who sat across from him and steadied his spine. Brinnoman. Brinnoman. Why did that name sound familiar? Wait! “Mrs. Brinnoman, as in the head of theboard of trustees?”

A sanctimonious smile curled across the dean’s thin lips. “The very same.”

This was about tenure. Be cool. Be calm.

“And what did she have to say?”

“That you’ve been approved for tenure.” McCaffery reached his hand across the desk. “Congratulations, my boy. You’re officially one of us.”

Automatically, Benjamin returned the gestures, noticing only the cool and dry fingers pressed into his larger, warmer hand. The dean chattered on, but his words were a muted jumble as though Benjamin’s head was underwater.

I got it. I finally got tenure.

That meant prestige and job security in a position that allowed him full autonomy to teach as he saw fit. To assist in creating lawyers who could go out into the world and make a difference.

Likehehad?

He should have been jumping for joy, and yet the excitement he expected to feel was completely absent.

“This is wonderful,” he murmured because perhaps he could force himself to believe it.

“You should be thanking me, Clark.” Benjamin’s eyes finally popped up to meet his boss’s. “After all, it was my little stunt with Miss Miller that properly greased the wheels.”

Francesca.

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