What am I even doing?
When I’d texted Maddie that morning to see if Tripp Carter had changed his mind—or even remembered his job offer to me—she’d assured me that the interview was still on.
If I had any sanity left, I would’ve been the one to cancel. I had zero interest in being a personal assistant to anyone, much less a celebrity. I’d worked far too hard—and was nearly done—with my Business Administration degree to waste it getting coffees and picking up dry cleaning.
I definitely didn’t want to squander it by catering to the spoiled whims of an entitled ass.
Maddie had insisted that Tripp was very sweet, but the night before had shown otherwise—and added another tally in theconcategory.
Just the idea of being the target of a very public firing made me feel like I was breaking out in hives. My secondhand embarrassment on behalf of his previous employee still hadn’t recovered.
I honestly wasn’t even sure why I was there.
I didn’t need the job.
Not really.
I was fortunate that my big bills were prepaid for the year. Even if they weren’t, my mom had made it clear that I had nothing to worry about. Unlike when Wren’s dad left when we were kids, my father wasn’t trying to weasel out of financial responsibilities. When shit hit the fan, Maddie’s dad decided it was time to retire. What money wasn’t tied up in the liquidation of the plastic surgery practice and legal fiascos was made readily available to Mom and me. I just didn’t want to use it. That money was hers. She deserved it and so much more for what he was putting her through.
The pressure to get a job was entirely my own doing. I was nearly done with the fall semester of my final year of college, and I had zero clue what I wanted to do after that. I could extend my schooling and get my master’s. It would be a good idea. But it might also be a waste of money if I didn’t narrow down my career scope at least a little.
I needed some real-life experience that wasn’t volunteering for charity drives or busywork. I’d filled out countless applications, but I’d only heard back from the investment firm I’d interviewed at.
And that’d been a massive waste of time.
The position was advertised as part-time, yet they expected me to be available at all hours—including the expectation that I would leave class at their beck and call. There would also be tasks I would need to do from home.
A lot of tasks.
I wasn’t afraid of long hours or hard work. I wasn’t even opposed to working for a moderate wage until I showed my worth.
They weren’t offering moderate.
They wanted free labor with the promise of maybe, potentially, possibly, there being some benefits in the future.
Like rounds of golf with the finance bros.
And based on the whispers and snickers, a hefty dose of sexual harassment.
The lack of viable options was why I was trying to hype myself up for an interview I shouldn’t bother with. One I had no interest in. One I wasn’t even sure was for a real job.
Yet there I was.
Pacing outside of Wells Law.
If anyone is looking out a window or watching the security cameras, I probably look unhinged.
Oh, what the hell.
With nothing left to lose, I rounded the building and went inside to check in with the beefy guard at the entrance.
I’d only visited Maddie at her boyfriend’s firm a couple of times, but they must’ve given security a heads-up that I would be there.The man was already tapping a screen when I stopped in front of him.
“Greer?” he confirmed without me needing to dig through my bag for my ID.
“Last I checked.”
“You’re a little young for dad jokes, but since me and my wifey just had a baby, I’m not. I’ll be using that one.” He was intimidating as hell, but his amused smile softened the fierceness. A bit.
