Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I could tell by the look on his face, Sawyer was surprised by my story. I reached out a finger to press against the lines on his forehead. “I worked my ass off for that degree, not only academically, but financially,” I told him, letting my hand drop back down to the pillow. “While going to classes full-time, I also worked two jobs and got charged rent by my father. Meanwhile, my mom apparently reached her limit of my dad’s bullshit and took off with a guy she met in a chat room on the internet.”
Despite the effort I’d exerted to erase the frown from Sawyer’s face, it returned all too easily. “Do you keep in touch with her?”
I didn’t look at him when I answered. The ceiling was way safer. “When she found out I’d graduated from law school and landed a job at Lanford and Pratt, she called to congratulate me. Then she asked me for a loan.”
“Oof.”
Despite trying to keep my expression neutral, I felt the corner of my mouth move into a bitter curl. “Yep. Not a word from her for six years, and then she put her hand out. I’ve gotten used to it. My father, who would never deign to ask me for a dime—he’d rather die—sends his new wife instead. Dell has texted me three times since I’ve been in McBride. She wants me to buy my father a new truck.”
Sawyer blew out a breath. “Jesus. I’m sorry, James.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
The words hung in the air for a moment, my lungs too tight to draw breath to respond. Because Sawyer’s words meant something to me. There was a truth to them that made me feel entirely too vulnerable, as if he could see straight through the carefully constructed facade I’d erected around me.
I fiddled with the edge of the sheet, plucking at a stray thread coming loose from the seam. “I guess what I’m saying is… this life is outside of my comfort zone. I work at one of the most prestigious boutique law firms in Manhattan and rub elbows with attorneys who were raised on yachts with silver pacifiers in their mouths. I’m expected to know the difference between cabernet and merlot when the only alcohol in my house growing up was Coors Light.”
“I had no idea.” I could feel Sawyer’s eyes on me as if studying me up close would yield new information. “Are you glad you took the path you did, or do you wish you’d chosen something else?”
There was no need to think about it really. “I’m beyond thrilled I took the path I did. When I got admitted to Yale Law and had saved up enough money at UConn to afford to actually move to New Haven, it was the best ticket out of my shitty childhood I could have asked for. With that law degree, the sky was the limit for me. I could go anywhere. Even now, I sleep better at night knowing I’ll always be able to find enough work to pay my bills. It was just as much a relief as anything else. Does that mean I want to practice corporate law for the rest of my life?” I shrugged. “Not really.”
He tilted his head to the side, considering me. “What’s your dream scenario?”
I turned and glimpsed his smug grin now that he’d turned the tables on me. He was too cute to smack, but I reached out and pinched his side, causing him to yelp and then laugh before swatting my hand away. We ended up lying closer together, our legs twisted around each other and our hands lazily exploring.
“I like helping people. Sometimes in corporate law it seems less personal. Every once in a while I wish…” I stopped and thought it through. “I wish I’d pursued an opportunity that came my way a few years ago. It was a legal consulting position with an entrepreneurial think tank of sorts. The group offers consulting and business planning to new start-ups.”
He reached out and toyed with the tips of my hair, trying to tuck a few errant strands behind my ear. It took effort not to close my eyes and let myself drift away to the feeling of his fingertips dancing against my scalp.
“Why didn’t you do it?” he asked.
It was an easy answer. “My boyfriend at the time thought it was too risky. The company was a start-up itself, so there was no guarantee it would be steady and lucrative. Meanwhile, I’d just landed a huge client at the firm which pretty much guaranteed my promotion from income to equity partner. The rest, as they say, is history.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
I shot him a look. “No one walks away from equity partnership at Lanford and Pratt. It’s like winning the lottery.”