Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Her assistant closes the door behind me, and Rya points to the seat opposite her. “Welcome, Billie. Please, take a seat.” I offer a polite smile to them all as I sit and act as if she’s not my aunt.
“So, you’ve applied for one of the open positions here at the firm,” one of the men says as he looks up and seems to stare straight into my soul. I understand the tactic—the desire to make me feel uncomfortable. Unfortunately for him, I grew up around people who would literally make him piss himself if he tried that shit on them.
“Yes. You’re looking for a junior accountant, and I hope to fill that role,” I reply, keeping my back straight and maintaining eye contact. I’ve been raised in high society. An interview is a breeze, and I already can’t wait for my caramel latte as a reward.
“Wonderful. We’ll run through some questions.”
“Please do,” I say with a charming smile, and they proceed to do exactly that.
I flawlessly answer their questions about my studies, my experience, the job I had during college, and my ability to adapt in a fast-moving environment.
They seem impressed by my conduct and answers, and Rya doesn’t speak until the end.
She pretends to look at the resume once more. “And you have no other commitments that would prohibit you from completing your tasks here?” She raises a perfectly shaped brow as she waits for me to answer.
I understand it’s a question she most likely asks every interviewee, but I can’t help wondering if she’s referring to the “family business.”
“No, ma’am,” I answer politely, and she stares at me as if she isn’t sure of my answer. She was referring to the family business, wasn’t she?
“Thank you, Miss Taylor. If we decide you’re a good fit for the job, you’ll receive a call within the next few days,” my aunt says as she stands and offers me her hand. It throws me off slightly, but I smile politely and shake each of their hands, thanking them for their time.
One thing I’m certain about when it comes to Rya is that even though we’re related, she won’t give me the job just because of who I am. I have to earn it. And I like that. I don’t want special treatment because of my family name or the fact that my brother would literally pay anyone any amount they asked for in order to give me an opportunity. It’s nice and supportive, but it also keeps me from discovering how far I can get on my own. This is why I refuse to let my parents pay any of my bills and I opted to rent my apartment instead of buy.
I didn’t originally intend to try to get a job at Rya’s firm, but it just so happened to come up when I was looking.
I decide to walk around the city for a bit since it’s been a while since I’ve aimlessly walked, and I kind of feel like it’ll help clear my head.
I chose to come back to Manhattan because I didn’t know if I wanted to live anywhere else. Ivy was hell-bent on coming back here. She has dreams of traveling over the next year, but a part of me wants stability after years of the college life. It was fun, but I want something more. I want a sense of direction and purpose. One that’s entirely my own and not due to the pressure I feel from my family.
I know that pressure is all in my head, and they’re not trying to force anything on me, but my brother’s so great in everything he does, and I’m… average at best.
I pause in front of a bridal shop, seeing the dress’s reflection cover the clothes I’m wearing. Standing there, I wonder if marriage is something I want. I’m sure it is, but definitely not now. I want to fall crazy in love with someone. I want to be special to someone other than just my family members.
Ford comes to mind, and I want to laugh at the ludicrousness of that thought. It’s desperate times if I can’t even tell the difference between a fuck buddy situation and the potential of a long-term relationship.
The buzzing of my phone pulls me from my musings, and I fish it out of my pocket. I inhale a sharp breath as my aunt’s name appears on the screen.
It’s only been an hour since I left her office.
“Surprise, Aunt Rya,” I say with a cheeky smirk as I continue walking. I can hear her sighing on the other end of the phone and can imagine her shaking her head.
I love my aunt Rya, especially when she’s had a few too many margaritas.
“Do you really want the job, Billie?”
“Yes,” I tell her. Because I really do. I want something to work toward and to figure out if this is the right career path for me. I just want the chance to find myself.