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I take a small sip of brandy, trying to fight the need to grimace against the burn ravaging my throat. I take another small sip, hoping for a little liquid courage. Clearing my throat, I tap my fingers against the glass before saying, “I was hoping you had a position open at your firm.” I wince at the shaking in my voice, not understanding what has come over me. I’m not a child anymore. I’m a strong, confident man.
Samuel raises an eyebrow and I feel my heart leap into my throat. My fingers tap faster against the glass and my gaze slides once more to his daughters. “A position?” He asks, confusion laced in his tone.
I nod like my life depends on it. “Yeah, an internship. I was hoping something might be open.”
Samuel chuckles and leans back in his chair. “Isn’t it a bit late to be asking about internship programs?
I blink, knowing he’s right, but hoping I come off us the stereotypical rich kid, asking and demanding for what he wants. “Is it?” I tap my chin. “I had no clue. I figured, I’m here. You’ve offered before. I might as well try.”
Samuel purses his lips. “Yeah, I have offered, Lucas.” He strokes his beard and I see something mischievous glint in his eyes. My heart races, knowing something is off, something bad is going to happen. “I’ve offered many times before. It’s interesting that after all these years of offering you a position in my firm, Lucas, you’re finally here, demanding for it.”
I feel my brows tent and I straighten in my chair, wanting to appear taller, but it’s difficult in this seat. “I’m not demanding for anything.”
“Yes, you are.” Samuel tilts his head to the side. “You call me out of the blue, show up here and ask for a job. A job, I’m assuming, will get your father off your back so you can do God knows what.”
I open my mouth, about to disagree with him, but Samuel lifts a finger, wagging it between us. “I’m not finished, boy.”
I bristle. Boy? I haven’t been called boy since I was ten.
“What’s even more interesting is that you seem to think I wouldn’t see right through this little ruse of yours.” His brow furrows. “Do you really think I’m that gullible, Lucas?”
My mouth hangs open. I can’t breathe. I can’t speak. I should have known this wouldn’t work, yet in my desperation, I didn’t really think things through.
“Well?” Samuel asks, looking at me expectantly.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think you’re gullible.”
Samuel smirks and rises from his seat. I copy his movement, not quite understanding what’s going on. He smacks my back and leads me to the door. “Our interns have already been chosen,” he says while opening it. “Whatever is going on between you and your father, leave me out of it.”
“There’s not… it’s not…” I sputter, trying to come up with words, but all vocabulary has evacuated my head, leaving me standing in front of Samuel, feeling both shocked and worried. If my father comes tomorrow, if he so much as speaks with Samuel about what I’m doing with my summer… I’m so totally fucked.
“You can show yourself out,” Samuel says with a polite smile before closing the door in my face.
I stand there, staring at the door for a moment, wanting to knock on it. My hands fist at my side, as if readying myselftodo it. I clench my jaw, not wanting to beg for a position I will hate, not wanting to beg a man in league with my father. There has to be another way. I turn around and trudge back down the hall, ignoring the receptionist’s pretty smile and her sultry, “Have a nice day.”
I shove open the doors and grab my phone, calling for a taxi through one of my apps and pacing back and forth while I wait for it. I will just have to tell my father the truth. That I want to try out writing this summer. That I want a bit of freedom before I sell my soul to the LSATs and grad school.
That I want one summer with my girlfriend before my father makes me break up with her.
I swallow the lump in my throat, turning my face up to the sun and closing my eyes. Deep down, I know it’ll eventually happen. Eventually, I will have to say goodbye to my life with Rachel. It pains me. Every time I think about it, I feel like I can’t breathe. I don’t know if it’s because of my impending loss of freedom, or the fact Rachel makes it easier for me to breathe, for me to pretend on front of my father, or when I’m on the phone with him.
Because at the end of the day, I know she’ll be there for me with her bright smile, and her emerald green eyes; with the sprinkle of freckles on her nose and her plump red lips.
The taxi arrives and I throw myself inside, leaning against the window and watching the buildings go by. I wonder if there’s another law firm I can join at this rate. Father won’t like it, but at least it will be something. He’ll probably snub his nose at any firm he hasn’t decided is good enough for someone with the Brent family name to be working at, but at least he can’t say anything about me dawdling my time away. I’ll have to look into it. I grimace, wondering about the whole visa situation. With Samuel, it wouldn’t have mattered, but with another firm, I will have to spend the next several weeks applying for a study visa… or a work visa. Whatever it is I need, I’ll have to figure out how to get it, which could be used as an excuse for my father.
The taxi stops outside the apartment complex and I tip the driver, rushing out of it and into the elevator. I look at the time, seeing it’s already six o’clock. A day completely wasted. How wonderful. I could’ve been looking at places to go site seeing with Rachel over the weekend. I could have been planning our romantic date at the tower.
I throw open the door, feeling angry and anxious about what’s to come. I’m about to kick off my shoes, but I stop, hearing giggling and soft jazz playing in the background, coming from the kitchen. The whole place smells like spaghetti bolognese and burnt toast.
I frown.
“When is Lucas getting home?” I hear Rachel ask.
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him all day,” I hear Seth.
“Well, more for me,” comes Hunter’s voice, making me smile.
I kick off my shoes and stride inside, stopping when I see Seth sitting on the island and Hunter leaning against it. The doors to the terrace are open and I can see plates for four set out along with a bucket filled with ice and wine. Rachel twirls around. The apron tied around her waist swings with her movement and she takes a bite from her wooden spoon, her gaze meeting mine and widening in surprise.
