Page 20 of The CEO I Hate

“Hello?” my mom answered. Her voice rang out over the Bluetooth speakers in my car.

“Hey! How’s it going?”

“Hi, honey. Just catching up with work. Your father’s on a call with a client.” Of course he was. My parents were financial planners, with their own small firm, and they were always saying there was room for two more. Translation: When are you going to give up your unstable little dreams and come do real work?

I knew they loved Jake and me, but they’d never approved of the risky, unreliable nature of our chosen careers. Jake’s accident had only added fuel to that fire. I squeezed the steering wheel, batting away those worries. Because, sure, I’d had bad luck in the past, but this bit of success had to finally convince them that my writing dreams were achievable.

“So…I have some exciting news to share. I got a job. A TV writing job!” I added quickly. “With VeriTV Studios.”

“Oh,” my mother said flatly. “Wait, your father’s just gotten off the phone. I’ll put you on speaker.”

“Hi, Dad,” I said, squeezing the wheel harder. I could already feel the tension eating at my good mood.

“Hon, you got a job?”

“Yeah, I’ll be working on season two ofEnd in Fire. Have you seen it?”

“No,” my parents said together. That wasn’t surprising. If it wasn’t a police procedural, it wasn’t their jam. Even outside of work, they liked things wrapped up neat and tidy.

I swallowed hard. “Anyway, it’s a pretty big deal. The old showrunner walked out, and they needed a new head writer to take the helm and?—”

“Walked out?” my mother said. “That doesn’t sound very reassuring.”

“That kind of thing happens, Mom. What’s important is?—”

“Perhaps you should have done more research,” my dad said. “Maybe this show isn’t a very safe bet.”

“I don’t need to do any more research. It’s an incredibly popular show. I’m a huge fan. And I’ve already accepted the job.”

“Oh, well,” my dad said. “Congratulations, then.”

That was the least enthusiastic congratulations I’d ever heard. Like I’d just told him I’d found a quarter on the sidewalk and planned to frame it. I’d never gotten much support from my parents about my writing, which was partly why our relationship was so tense, but this felt like a new low.

“Thanks,” I said quietly. “It’s a huge opportunity.”

“I’m sure it is,” my dad said. “Just don’t forget these kinds of jobs are fickle. A lot could go wrong, just like it has in the past.”

Okay, yes, message received.

“I know you think every opportunity is going to be your big break, Mia,” my mom started. And that was it. I tuned them both out.

My throat burned. The sting of tears hit hard and fast, but I blinked them back. Not here. Not now.

To this day, Dad still took every opening to try to convince me to go back to school to study something “practical” like nursing. Meanwhile, Mom was always harping about me marrying someone “steady.” Translation: someone with a real job to bail you out when this dream crashes and burns, again.

“I think it’s gonna be really great.” Even I didn’t sound convinced. I never should have called them.

“Well…” My mom sighed. “I suppose we’ll see, won’t we? Anyway, dinner next Friday?”

I winced as I turned into the parking lot for the building. “I don’t know, Mom. I’m gonna be pretty busy with work stuff.”

“I’m sure you can make time to visit your parents one evening out of every?—”

“Okay,” I said, not in the mood for a lecture. “Okay.”

“Excellent. I’ll text you the details. Talk to you later, honey.”

“Bye.” I hung up and let the silence settle like a weight in the car. No part of me was interested in dinner. They hadn’t even mentioned inviting Jake, which meant that this dinner—like so many dinners before—wasn’t about family at all. It was aboutfixing me up. I wassure she already had someone with a “steady” job lined up. Probably a dentist.

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