Page 48 of Break Me, Daddy

Across from them, Dean Michaels smiled even more broadly than before, without even attempting a hint of sympathy or understanding as he spread his hands palms up in front of him. “As I told you at the club, Francis, there’s simply nothing we can do. If Francesca’s grades were even a little bit higher, I might be able to work something out. But the fact is, she’s fallen too far behind to have any hope of catching up this semester and no amount of money is going to fix that.”

“Then we’ll get her a tutor. And I’m sure the professors would be willing to work with her, given enough… incentive.”

If you put enough zeros on that check, you mean.

“I’m sorry, Francis. There really is nothing I can do.”

“Bullshit.” The temper her father had been keeping rather admirably in check so far started to push through his words, the sharp edge of it threatening to slice Dean Michaels clean in two. “There is always something a man in your position can do.”

“Not in this case. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. I refuse to compromise the integrity of this university so some spoiled brat can buy her way back in.”

Ouch. That ‘spoiled brat’ remark landed hard in Frankie's chest, and it was all she could do not to visibly wince. She liked to think she wasn’t as spoiled as people assumed, but given how her father was acting she couldn’t blame him for the accusation, either.

Her father let out a snort of disbelief. “You act as though this is an Ivy League university instead of some second-rate medical school. Francesca had offers from Harvard and Colombia. Shechosethis school, for reasons that still escape me. You should be kissing her feet, begging for her to stay.”

“Then perhaps she should give one of those fine institutions a call, see if they still have space for her. But her suspension stands. She’ll be welcome back next fall, but if she isn’t able to keep up then, she’ll be expelled for good. My decision is final, Francis.”

Rising to his feet in that same slow, deliberate way he had back in the waiting room, her father tugged at the bottom of his jacket, the only outward show of his fury. “You will regret this. Come, Francesca. We’re done here.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode for the door.

Torn between the relief of not having to return to school yet and the terror of what her father might have to say about it when he got her alone, she pushed slowly to her feet and made to follow him out the door. But at the last minute, she turned to face Dean Michaels again, who was watching her now with a hint of curiosity.

“I’m sorry about this, Dean Michaels. You did the right thing, suspending me. I… I’m clearly not ready for this but I’m going to do everything in my power to get ready. I appreciate you giving me a second chance and I promise I won’t waste it.”

He watched her for a moment before his expression shifted, sympathy replacing the gleeful hatred he’d held for her father. “You’re an exceptional student, Francesca. Whatever is going on with you right now, I hope you don’t let it hold you back from becoming an even more exceptional doctor.”

Warmth filled her at his words, and she gave him a small nod before opening the door and heading to face her doom.

She found her father pacing in front of the building, agitation pouring off him in waves. Standing just off to the side, she watched him for a bit before finding the courage to speak. “I’m sorry.”

Wrong thing to say, judging by the fury in his eyes when he stopped pacing to glare at her. Then again, she wasn’t sure there was arightthing to say in this instance.

“You’re sorry? That’s all you have to say after the way you’ve humiliated our family, yet again?”

The reminder that this wasn’t the first time she’d brought shame to the Legare name didn’t escape her. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Nothing. Because there is nothing you can say to make up for being such an utter fucking failure. You’ve been nothing but a disappointment to me from the day your mother learned she was having a girl instead of the boy we’d been promised.”

Shock had her mouth falling open. “That’s not how having a baby works, dad. You don’t get to pick and choose.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “With enough money you can choose whatever you want, Francesca. Unfortunately for us, we didn’t choose carefully enough.”

If he’d hauled off and physically slapped her, she didn’t think she could be any more shocked. Or hurt. God, it hurt, having the truth she’d always suspected finally confirmed.

“I’m going to go.” Her voice was wooden, hollow even to her own ears. “Bye, dad.”

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Francesca! We aren’t finished here!”

You might not be, but I am. Without bothering to respond, she made a beeline straight for her car and backed out of the spot without even bothering to put her seatbelt on. Tires squealing, she raced for the exit, then for the interstate. She rolled the windows down as she drove, dragging in deep lungfuls of the fresh air slapping her in the face.

Lottie. She needed Lottie. Even if Lottie didn’t have any answers for her, she’d be a good shoulder to cry on.

Just as Frankie was about to press the button on her screen to call her friend, the wail of sirens pierced the air and flashing lights filled her rearview mirror.

A quick glance at her speedometer told her she was going nearly thirty miles over the posted speed limit. With a groan, she pressed on the brakes and guided her car to the side of the road.

Daddy was going to bepissed.

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