Wall Street Titan (Wall Street Titan #1) - Anna Zaires Page 0,23
that the majority of the publishing industry is here, and if I want a career in it—”
“But you don’t.” Kendall gives me a steady look. “A career in publishing might’ve been your goal once, but you’ve told me yourself that the industry landscape is shifting, and the big publishers aren’t what they used to be. That’s why you’re able to get all those freelance editing jobs—which, by the way, is something you’ve been content to do halfheartedly on the side instead of trying to make a real go of it.” She crosses her arms. “Face it, Emma: You’re in Brooklyn working at your very first job because you don’t like change.”
“That’s not true—”
“Yes, it is.” She uncrosses her arms and picks up her coffee cup. “That’s why you wear your clothes until they literally fall apart on you, and why you only date guys who stand no chance with another girl as pretty as you. As to the cat lady thing, I just said that because you’ve been neglecting yourself, and I wanted you to do something about it—which you clearly did.”
She grins, obviously hoping to bring the topic back to Marcus, but I’m too upset to smile back. The worst part of Kendall’s unflattering assessment of me is that she’s right about one thing: the career I planned for might never come to pass, yet I haven’t changed course to adjust for that, choosing to hide my head in the sand instead. When I started working at Smithson Books, I was a junior in college, and I regarded the job as a temporary part-time opportunity, a way to make a little money while being loosely connected to the industry I wanted to be in. But when I couldn’t find a job with a major publishing company upon graduation because all of them were shrinking and restructuring, I stayed at the bookstore, all the while telling myself that I was just biding time until my real career began.
Weeks turned into months, then into years, and here I am, still biding time.
Self-disgust is a thick knot in my throat as I confront another unpleasant fact: Kendall is right about my freelance editing too. I have been half-assing it, treating it more like a hobby than a business. I haven’t even built a website, though I know the importance of that in a largely online book community.
No wonder I’m drowning in student loans and stressing over every meal out: I’m living in one of the most expensive cities in the world on a cashier’s salary—all so I can cling to the idea of a career that I know no longer makes sense.
“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” I try—and fail—not to sound bitter. Being forced to face reality is a bitch. “If you saw that I was being an idiot, why didn’t you say something before this?”
Kendall’s expression turns somber. “Because I didn’t think you were ready to hear it—and because I didn’t want you to react the way you’re reacting now. I know you have reasons for wanting the comfort of the familiar, and it’s not like you were doing anything dangerous or self-destructive. You just let yourself get into a rut, which is something I know you can fix if you set your mind to it. Besides, I selfishly want you here, not in Florida or wherever you might move to if you had a full-time editing business that you could do from anywhere.”
“Kendall…” I don’t know if I want to smack her or hug her, so I settle for doing neither. Instead, I pick up my cup of coffee and try to manage my spinning thoughts as I gulp down the hot liquid. Latching on to the one inconsistency in her spiel, I ask, “If you feel this way, why are you trying to warn me away from Marcus? Isn’t he a step in the right direction? Something different… something risky?”
“Yes, of course he is, and that’s why I’m so proud of you.” Kendall’s tense expression eases as a playful grin tugs at the corners of her lips. “You’re venturing out of your comfort zone, and I couldn’t be happier about that. I just don’t want you to rush into anything blindly and get hurt as you take your first baby steps. Not all guys are as harmless as your pet geeks, you know.”
I put down my cup. “Of course. I know that.” Harmless is definitely not how I’d describe Marcus. Forcing a smile to my lips, I say,