everything, from what we find entertaining to what we feel constitutes appropriate work attire. But even acknowledging those differences, I don’t think you give him enough credit.”
She took a deep breath. It felt intentional, like she was measuring her next words very carefully. “What makes you think I don’t give him enough credit?”
“He does,” I answered without hesitation. “He wears your disapproval on his sleeve. I think that’s why he hesitated to even tell you the details of this event. He’s really excited about it, and he didn’t want you to—”
Her shoulders slumped. “Do exactly what I did? Doubt him? Squelch him? Rain on his shiny YouTube parade?”
“See?” I said. “You really don’t like what he does for a living. And he feels that. Keenly.”
She closed her eyes, one hand clutched around the edges of my jacket, the other pressed to her head, thumb and forefinger rubbing her temples. “Did Isaac ever tell you he was accepted into MIT?” she asked.
My eyebrows shot up. “No, he didn’t.”
“He was also offered a full ride to Clemson, and Georgia Tech,” she said. “I used to hate it. How hard I had to work when it was always so easy for him. He was so smart. Test scores higher than everyone else we knew. And for what? For a little bit of YouTube notoriety? How long is that going to last? When all of his subscribers grow up and turn into adults who no longer want to watch Random I, what then? He could have done so much with those smarts.”
“Okay. I see your point.”
“It’s not so much that I disapprove. I’ve watched a few of his early episodes and I almost get it. I don’t always understand the randomness, but he’s funny. I’m willing to give him that much. And I like that he’s always challenging people to be kind. But I can’t stop thinking about what he could have accomplished had he gone to college.”
“There’s more than one way to find success,” I said. “His isn’t the most conventional path, but it’s still his. And he’s accomplished a lot, even without a fancy education.”
“I suppose that’s true,” she said with a sigh.
I wondered if she actually believed it. I’d heard Dani talk about her own career. She had a very clear definition of success and it had a lot to do with progress based on merit and hard work, and not things like YouTube views or notoriety. Even convincing her to go to the interview I’d set up for her at LeFranc had been tough. Because she hadn’t “earned” it and didn’t want her path to senior designer tainted by a favor from her boyfriend or even just a stroke of good luck. She would have the job because she deserved it, or not at all.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“I don’t . . .” She hesitated, her eyes focused somewhere at my feet. “I’m not sure I’m up for talking about why you left New York. But . . . why Isaac? It’s not like you’re lacking qualifications. Anyone would have hired you.”
“Anyone would have hired me to keep doing what I was already doing at LeFranc. But I didn’t like my job at LeFranc. Isaac offered something different. Plus, I needed a place to stay and the job came with one.”
Her eyes jumped to mine. “You couldn’t go home?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I did, at first. Malorie said I was welcome to stay. But her girls are teenagers now. All they did was giggle whenever I was around.”
My father’s second wife was well-intentioned. She technically lived in my house—the one I’d inherited from my father when he’d passed away a few years back—but Dad’s will stipulated that she and the girls could live in the house until the youngest graduated from the private school he’d also paid for in his will. They’d been happy together; I couldn’t begrudge Dad wanting to take care of Malorie and her girls. Still, the two weeks I’d spent living with them before moving in with Isaac had been long enough.
Dani chuckled. “They still don’t feel like family, huh?”
“Not hardly. And Malorie was . . . flirty. It was weird.”
“Oh, wow. That’s awkward. She isn’t that much older than you, is she? I can’t remember.”
“Ten years, I think?”
Dani started walking again and I fell in step beside her.
“Is it weird for you? To own a house you can’t live in? I mean, she and your dad were only married