Page 75 of Playbook
Dad shifts in his seat. “Social events are a great way to rub elbows with the executives, network and make connections. It shows loyalty and initiative.”
“It’s just a picnic.” Irritation slips into my tone. He wants to believe that all companies and managers treat their employees with respect and loyalty but that’s just not true.
Dad’s gaze quickly darts to Brogan and then back to me. Whatever he wants to say, he’s tempering his words for my boyfriend’s benefit.
“How can you expect to move up in the company when you don’t make an effort? Your generation thinks things are just going to be handed to you. That isn’t how it works.”
“I know, Dad. I do. I work really hard at my job and I’m thankful for it, but I’m not even sure I want to move up. I think I’d rather work for myself.”
Both of my parents sigh, quietly, but their disapproval is so loud.
“You want to spend the next thirty years scraping by and worrying about getting work? Being your own boss is nonstop. The job doesn’t end.”
Mom is never as vocal as Dad in her disapproval, but they are a united front. She has this downturned mouth, worried expression every time we talk about it. “Very few artists are able to support themselves,” she says.
Dad jumps right back in. “You have to get your own health benefits and keep track of your finances, do your own taxes?—”
“I know,” I cut him off. My face heats. The last thing I want is to have this conversation in front of Brogan.
When I glance over at him, he’s got a sort of shell-shocked expression like he’s trying to figure out what’s happening. I rest my hand on his. “Want to take a dip with me?”
“Yeah.” He’s quick to agree. I can’t blame him. I want to get far away from this conversation too.
TWENTY
London splashes me from across the net. We’re in an epic game of pool volleyball. Me and her uncle Steve against her and Ben.
“Don’t need to splash me to distract me, sweetheart.”
I can tell she wants so badly to roll her eyes at me. She thinks I’m kidding. The one-piece she put on might not show as much skin as the lingerie she wore the last time we were in a pool together, but I have that memory etched into my brain forever.
“Game point.” Ben rolls the ball in his hands and then serves it over the net. It’s closer to Steve than me so I let him have it. He hits it up, but not over. I chance a quick look at London as I move into position to spike it. She looks so damn sexy. She’s a competitive thing too. The concentration on her face is almost enough to make me hesitate from spiking it over.
Almost.
She and Ben move to stop it at the same time, diving toward each other and knocking heads as the ball falls just in front of them.
“Hell yeah!” Steve calls. He holds up a hand for me. I slap it as I watch London come up out of the water, rubbing her head.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“You have a hard head,” she tells Ben. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
I duck under the net and inspect her, running my fingers over the spot. “You’ve got a bump.”
“I’m fine, really.”
“We should get some ice on it.”
“No way. I want a redo.”
Chuckling, I look down into her fiery green eyes.
“I need to grab a beer anyway,” Steve says. “Brogan?”
“Yeah. That’d be great.”
“I’ll come with you,” Ben says, wading toward the ladder to get out and leaving me alone with London.
