Now he just stopped talking.
“Sexist much?”
“That’s not why—”
“It’s exactly why. And this conversation never would have happened if you’d just selected one of my qualified colleagues. While you’re on vacation in the Hamptons, we have to deal with this guy and teach him how to do his job.”
“He’s the most brilliant person I’ve ever met. He’ll be fine.”
I wanted to keep arguing, but it was pointless. I aired my grievances—even though it didn’t make me feel better. The damage was done, and it couldn’t be changed, not now. “I honestly doubt his resume is that much different from anyone’s here—Harvard, Stanford, Johns Hopkins…we’ve all been there. Research and education, we’ve all got backgrounds in that. I just can’t believe that someone kissing your ass would be enough to sway you so easily, to be so disloyal to the people who are in here day in and day out. I’m here early every day and I leave late. Anthony is here just as much. Anthony graduated at the top of his class at Harvard and Stanford. There’s nothing more special about this guy.”
Dylan pulled his hands apart, starting to show his annoyance. “I don’t appreciate you questioning me like this, Daisy—”
“Too bad. I ask questions until I get sufficient answers. It’s why I’m so good at my job. So, now tell me why he’s such a better fit than any of us here? Because there has to be a better reason than what you’re giving me.”
A cold stare ensued before he slowly pushed himself to his feet so he could have the greater height.
I rose to my feet as well, refusing to let that happen.
“It was the letter of recommendation.”
“How could a stupid letter have that much impact?”
His coldness ensued, like our relationship was forever changed because of my actions. “It can—when it’s written by Deacon Hamilton.”
I let myself into their condo. “Dad, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”
He froze at the kitchen counter, whipping up dinner for the two of them. “Everything alright, sweetheart?”
“No.” I tossed my bag on the couch and marched into the kitchen. “Hence, the bone I’m about to pick.” One hand planted on the counter while the other moved to my hip. Beside him, I stared him down, the salmon fillets cooking in the pan with slices of lemon and thyme. The other pot had rice pilaf.
He stilled as he looked at me, that piercing gaze identical to mine. Normally his eyes blanketed me in unconditional affection, a special look he didn’t give my brothers. Without watching what he was doing, he turned the knobs on the stove, killing the heat. “I’m listening.”
“You wrote the letter of recommendation for my new boss?” I asked incredulously. “The job that you knew I wanted? That I’d been working toward for my whole career? Talk about sabotage.”
Dad continued his intense expression, absorbing all that information slowly, combing over every aspect as he prepared his response. “Is this about Dr. Beaumont?”
“Bingo—my new boss. Dylan said the only reason he hired him was because of the glowing letter you wrote. That’s such a conflict of interest. How could you do that?”
Dad was quiet for a long time, taking another one of his signature long pauses. “Daisy, I didn’t know that was the job he was applying for. And if I had, I still would have written it exactly the same. I would never compromise my moral integrity by writing him a mediocre recommendation in favor of nepotism. I understand you’re upset right now, but I know you would agree with me if you weren’t. That’s not who you are.”
I was still furious, but he made it look unreasonable—as always.
“There will be other opportunities, Daisy.”
“But that’s the job I want. I don’t want another one.”
“Then prove yourself to Atlas, and when he leaves, perhaps he’ll promote you.”
“What kind of fucking name is that? Does he look like a map or something?”
Dad stared.
“And hard work doesn’t matter. I bust my ass around the clock for my patients, not because of the promotion, but because I care about my patients and their quality of life. While that hard work was noticed, it was dismissed. You want to know why? Because I asked Dylan and got my answer.”
His eyes narrowed.
I raised my hands and made air quotes. “Because I’m too young.”
His features became more strained, like he understood the implications instantly.
“So, tell me, how old is map boy?”
He grabbed the towel on the counter and rubbed his hands before he tossed it aside. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“When a man is a genius at a young age, he’s already a star. Gotta give him as many opportunities as possible. But when it’s a woman…” I shook my head. “Nope. Forget it.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Look, I’m not a sore loser. If one of my colleagues had gotten the position, I would have been happy for them. But it just pisses me off that Dylan really thinks there’s someone else out there better for the job than any one of us. It’s insulting, you know? And then to hear him say I’m too young… How would he feel if I said he was too old to be the director for the last ten years? Jackass.”