Hard Love (Trophy Boyfriends #3) - Sara Ney Page 0,46
gets red when I drink it and I’ll most likely have a headache in the morning.
One and done, I remind myself. One and done.
When our drinks come, we’re left staring at each other, a whole lot of silence lingering in the space between us, Tripp unsure of where to look, me not wanting to stare at his chest.
He clears his throat. “So you just graduated from college, huh?”
I sip from the wine glass that’s just been placed in front of me. “Actually, no—I graduated with my master’s last year, but I’ve been in Europe since.”
“Why?” he asks bluntly, not skirting around the question like most people do, politely.
“I wasn’t ready to start working for my parents immediately after college.”
“Why?”
Oh my god. “Because I don’t want to work for my parents at all, and if you ask why, I’m going to strangle you.”
“It’s a valid question. Why don’t you want to work for your parents?”
“Sports isn’t my thing—it’s not my first, second, or third love. I’m only taking the job because I haven’t been able to find anything in my field. I’ve had interviews, but not many people are hiring right now.”
“What is your degree in?”
I squirm. “It’s not a big deal, just hard to get a job right now, and obviously I don’t have the kind of money for a start-up.”
I would if my parents were supportive and wanted me to become an entrepreneur. But as my bad luck would have it, my dad is dying for me to work for him at the office. Therefore, no seed money for launching my own business.
The look he’s giving me is saying, Well what the hell is it?
“Public relations. I have a business degree for marketing, but I would love to represent the creative types. Like authors or even small businesses.”
“Why not work for your family in their office? They probably have a dozen publicists working for them.”
I hesitate, unsure of how much private family information to tell him. “My first choice is not to work for my family. The last thing I wanted to do was rely on them for a job, which is one of the reasons Hollis doesn’t work for our family. I want to be the same way.” I take another sip of wine. “Plus, the PR office isn’t exactly the spot my father wanted me to fill within the…organization.”
The organization. What an odd thing to say about one’s family.
But Dad wouldn’t allow it, hating the fact that I didn’t pursue a business degree with an emphasis on economics. Or contracts.
Or law.
Something on the money side of the business.
Something impressive.
“What are you actually going to be doing for the Steam?” Tripp wants to know, downing half the vodka and water in his cocktail glass.
“I think I’m primarily going to be assisting my dad—he’s under the impression that I want to learn the business, so he thinks shadowing him and learning from him will be a good place to start.” I don’t add that my father has no faith in my abilities as a competent adult, seeing me as a child and treating me like one, too. “I just need one or two years of saving so I can branch out on my own.”
Tripp nods. “Aren’t you living in Hollis’s place rent-free?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m paying her rent. What do I look like, a mooch?”
“You look like the kind of girl who hasn’t had to work very hard.”
My back stiffens. The wine I just swallowed goes down hot, burning its way down my throat.
How dare he imply that I’m a spoiled brat!
Not that he would be the first—growing up wealthy comes with its fair share of downsides, stereotypes one of them. It’s not my fault I was born into a family that has been successful, but that doesn’t make me any less determined to pave my own way.
If I’m just using this job as a temporary solution to a long-term goal—a stepping stone to my own independence—then so be it. But working for the Westbrooke family and the Steam is not and never has been my end goal.
I smooth a hand down my black silk shirt, cursing its fine fabric and my expensive designer bag. “I guess if we’re judging people based solely on their appearance, then yeah, I suppose you could say I look like a girl who hasn’t had to work very hard.” I pause for theatrical effect. “Then again, you said that at the wedding, just before I knocked you on your ass.”