Page 106 of Her Filthy Professor

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. I know that. He’ll forgive you for your lapse in judgment. He’s looking forward to your call.”

Shit. Not exactly what I meant. I can’t see Oliver anymore. I can’t stand him. He’s disgusting.“I –”

“I’m relieved that went as well as expected.” My dad taps his fingertips on the edge of the chair arm.

“Dear, I told you Ember was compliant and would do what you instructed.” She takes the needle in her hand and pushes it through the fabric as she works on her cross-stitch project.

My dad shoves out of his chair. “I’m sorry we can’t stay and chat, but your mother and I have a function to prepare for.” He turns on his heel and disappears into the foyer.

“Mom?”

“Mother,” she says without glancing up.

“Oliver is –”

“Your boyfriend. No questions asked. Your father needs your support. As always, you will be obedient.” She stands and exits the same way without a backward glance.

Well, fuck me running. I don’t have enough money saved up. How can I get more funds – and quick?My gut churns. I’m not going back with Oliver.

Please, God, no. I can’t. I’ve got to figure something out.I’m so tired of doing what I’m told. Of never having a voice. I want to be whisked away and become a different person. A woman with my own opinions. A person worthy of respect.

I spin in a circle. Yet here I am. The dutiful daughter of a state senator. The daughter who can never do the right thing – even when I try. Never quite smart enough, pretty enough, polite enough, obedient enough. “Shit,” I growl.

“There you are.” Cora breezes into the room, and I run into her arms. She’s soft and smells like baked goods. I breathe in as anxiety washes away in her blanket of comfort.

“God, I’ve missed you,” I mutter while trying not to cry.

“Sweetheart, we missed you, too. But you had to get out of here.” She grabs my face. “Don’t listen to your parents. This is your time to grow. If you need money for a place to stay, we’ve got the cash. We’ve squirreled away for years.”

“I can’t take your money.”

“Yes, you will. We didn’t have children, and you’re like our granddaughter. Do not go back with that boy. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I’d called Cora when we split up and told her all about it. Not that I was upset, but to get someone’s support – when I should be calling my parents. How pathetic. Little Miss Rich Girl’s classic miserable life. I feel like Cinderella without the ugly stepsisters, birds, or glass slippers. Yeah, totally not like Cinderella.

But I’ll never take their money. They’ve been too good to me over the years. I should be giving them money to retire – not watching them keep working so they can save enough money to rescue me if I need it.

I’m so sick of people with money. They always believe they can buy you. Tell you what to do. Lord it over your head. Well, at least that’s what I’ve experienced. The only people I can depend upon are living paycheck to paycheck and struggling at that. Those people have substance.

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