Page 33 of I Wish I Would've Chosen You

LIAM

“Ineed you to write me the greatest recommendation letter of all time, Professor Donovan.” Charlotte Vaughn, the daughter of San Francisco’s newest billionaire ‘tech God,’ follows me into the teachers’ library Friday morning. “I’ve emailed you about this four times, and you have yet to respond.”

“I don’t check my emails all day, Miss Vaughn.”

“Well, Harvard and Yale are willing to rush my application to the top, but they can’t do that until I’ve turned everything in,” she says. “You’re the lone holdout.”

“I’ve only been your professor for a few weeks, Miss Vaughn,” I say. “If I’m taking too long, maybe you should ask someone else who knows you better.”

“Are you telling me ‘no’?”

“I’m telling you that since you’re not my boss, I’ll get back to you when I have the time.” I take a seat. “Anything else?”

“We’ll see how you feel when my dad calls.”

“Your dad isn’t my boss, either.”

“He’s the reason we have a brand-new state-of-the-art student lounge and the current space that you’re currently enjoying.”

“So, why not ask him to write you a letter?”

She sucks in a breath. “With all due respect, you aren’t going to last long here at Exeter.”

“I’m starting to feel the same way.”

She storms off, nearly bumping into my grandfather.

“Good afternoon, Miss Vaughn,” he says to her. “How are you today?”

“Mr. Donovan needs to be fired as soon as possible, sir.” She huffs. “He doesn’t belong in our esteemed Exeter community.”

He smiles as she disappears. Then he makes sure the door is completely shut.

“Do I want to know what the hell that was about?” he asks.

“Not unless you want a headache.”

“Keep it to yourself, then.” He laughs. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, what the hell is going on between you and Miss Edwards?”

“What?” I sit up. “What do you mean?”

“She’s been accepted to more colleges this week than all our top scholars combined, and she’s actually sharing her success with us.” He smiles. “She’s ahead in all her classes, and although she seems a bit more aloof than usual, the results of this mentorship program are amazing!”

“So, can I assign her to someone else now?”

“No, son.” He rolls his eyes. “Why fix what isn’t broken?”

“It’s beyond broken,” I mutter.

I still can’t stop thinking about her.

“Surely there’s another student I can help on this campus,” I say, “someone who actually needs it.”

“Next year, sure.” He pats my shoulder. “I’m making this an official thing school-wide for the top scholars. I can’t believe we never did this until now. Do you want to know what the other teachers are saying?”

I nod as if I care, letting him ramble on and on.

“Did the rest of your furniture get in yet?” He finally stops talking about school.

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