Page 69 of Secret Offer
“Dental clinic manager.That sounds like a respectable job, right?”
“That’s one word for it,” Brooke says dryly.
Lying on the couch—aka my bed while I’m staying at her place—I hold my phone above my face and scroll through the job listings I’ve Googled. It’s a new phone, a burner, because I turned off my old phone and refuse to power it back on. I have no interest in being contacted by my parents ever again.
“It says you need an associate degree in office management, but I’m sure my BS fulfills that requirement, don’t you think?”
Brooke scoffs from her spot at the end of the couch. My feet are propped in her lap while she paints my toenails a deep, broody burgundy.
“You’re way overqualified and you don’t know anything about teeth. Next?”
“Restaurant manager. Must speak Urdu. How hard is it to learn Urdu? Maybe I can take a class.”
“I don’t know that the restaurant business is going to be your forte, Blair. You don’t know the difference between chapati and focaccia. What else?”
“Oh, here’s a good one. Personal trainer for an exclusive men’s fitness club. No experience necessary. Willing to prep and instruct the right candidate.”
My best friend sighs in disgust. “That sounds like a soft ad for porn. Plus, you barely work out. What are you going to train them in? Excel spreadsheets?”
I suddenly remember the bartender I met at Sebastian’s resort, who also went to NYU.
“Maybe I can go to bartending school. Nobody will care who my dad is if I’m just pouring whiskey and beers.”
“The money might be good,” Brooke says, and I can tell she’s trying her best to be supportive even though she sounds doubtful.
Covering my eyes with one hand, I drop the phone and blink back tears. This is hopeless.
It’s been almost a week since I found out about my parents’ plan to auction me off. In that time, I’ve basically done nothing but cry, drink way too much wine on Brooke’s couch, and send out resumes for positions that align perfectly with my business degree…only to receive nothing but rejections. I can easily imagine what these HR departments are thinking—that this nepo baby isn’t a serious candidate.
The few calls I did get were from people who were clearly more interested in getting to my father than in what I could bring to the table as an employee.
“It’ll be okay,” Brooke says, attempting for the millionth time to console me about my future. “You’ll find something. It’s just going to take time. You can stay with me as long as you need to.”
“I know, it’s just…I’ll never be the owner of the Rockets,” I say, my voice wobbling. “It was my dream for so long. I always thought after graduation I’d spend the next ten or twenty years learning the ropes so I could take over for my dad. And now…I have no idea what to do.”
“Blair, listen to me. You are smart, and strong, and so, so driven. You’re going to come out on top of this, trust me.”
She pats my leg and I nod, my eyes still squinched shut. I’ve felt so lost these last few days. My heart hurts and I can’t eat or sleep. I’m a mess. Brooke has the patience of a saint, but I’m sure at some point she’s going to get tired of me loafing on her couch and watching rom-coms at all hours of the night.
“Are you ready to tell me what really happened on the island?” She moves my right foot out of the way and starts painting the left.
I refill my wine glass while I think of how to respond. I don’t want to tell her the full story because it’s too humiliating. Who wants to admit that their parents planned to sell them off like a prize horse? Or that the guy they were falling for was part of the whole thing? I can’t believe how naïve I was.
“You know the story. The fling with Sebastian ended horribly. Then I came back home and my dad decided not to give me a job, and now I have no plan and no future.”
“I still don’t get the Sebastian thing. It sounded like it was going so well. Did he just…break things off when you said you wanted to keep seeing him? Because honestly, if that’s the case, it’s his loss. I know it sucks, but you’re better off. You don’t want to spend the best years of your life chasing after some player who can never give you what you need. Or at least, what you need besides dick.”
I groan. “Really, Brooke?”
We look at each other and laugh. It’s the first time I’ve laughed in days, but it quickly melts into a sob that I manage to keep to myself. At least my willpower is getting better. I hold back tears. I don’t overindulge in ice cream…anymore. And I sure as hell don’t check my old phone to see if Sebastian has called or texted. My parents are probably going crazy because they can’t get a hold of me, but too bad.
Brooke pushes off my other foot and screws the top back onto the polish bottle. Then she fills her own glass and takes a long drink, tilting her head to the side as she stares off into space.
“I still don’t understand why your dad had such a huge change of heart. You planned your entire life around that job. He knows that. He encouraged it.”
“Yeah. Well. I guess he decided a man was better suited for the position.”
It’s the closest to the truth that I’m willing to share.I pick up my phone and start job-scrolling again. Brooke leans over to see what I’m looking at and points at the screen.
