Page 40 of Never To Be Mine

He laughed. “I won’t tell my parents you referred to their jet as adequate.”

The flight attendant brought me a Perrier, then disappeared toward the front of the cabin. The engines started up with a low hum.

I pulled out my tablet, intending to review the presentation materials one more time. But I could feel Hollis watching me.

“What?” I asked without looking up.

“Just wondering.”

“Wondering what?”

“Do you have a problem with rich people?”

My head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve made a lot of comments and we both know they’re negative.” He leaned forward slightly. “But you’re rich too. You’re not exactly struggling.”

“I’m not private plane rich.”

“So you’re envious?”

“No, I just think this whole company of yours, it’s just a hobby project for a bored rich guy. Once you get bored of this little side quest, you’ll abandon it and move on to something else. Buy a yacht. Invest in crypto. Whatever people like you do when you need a new toy.”

His jaw tightened. For the first time since I’d met him, the easy smile disappeared completely.

I’d hit a nerve.

“I actually want to help people be healthier,” he said. “This isn’t just a passing thing for me. But I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

“Actually, you do.” I met his eyes without flinching. “I’m making the final decision on whether B Well will be a good fit with our company. My father put me in charge of vetting you. So yeah, you absolutely need to prove yourself to me.”

He stared at me for a long moment. The plane started taxiing down the runway, but neither of us looked away.

“Fine,” he said finally. “You’ll see I’m the real deal.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

The plane lifted off, and I felt the familiar pressure in my ears as we climbed. I turned my attention back to my tablet, but I couldn’t focus on the words. The tension radiating from across the aisle washed over me.

Several minutes passed in silence. The flight attendant came by to offer snacks, which I declined. Hollis accepted something, probably organic and gluten-free and perfectly aligned with his brand.

“How long have you been in the business?” he asked suddenly.

I looked up. His expression had softened slightly, like he was trying to reset the conversation.

“Since I graduated,” I said. “About five years now.”

“You went straight to your dad’s company?”

“I did my internship there. Worked my way up.” I felt defensive saying it, like I needed to justify my position. “I’m a licensed dietitian, which actually requires a lot of work. I earned my spot.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t.”

“But you were thinking it.”

“Actually, I wasn’t.” He took a sip of water. “I was thinking that it must be hard, working for family. People always assume you only got the job because of who your dad is.”

I blinked. That was surprisingly perceptive.