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“It shouldn’t have been. Not for me.” Grant said. “My father is Dr. Olaf Nilsson. Not that the name should ring a bell with you, but he’s a noted scholar of classical literature.”
“I’ve heard of him. Distinguished professor at Princeton, right?”
Grant’s sour expression curdled even further. “Exactly. His reputation is unparalleled. And here I am, teaching at a second-rate school, without a hope of tenure. Not exactly the future he imagined for me.”
Rick felt a twinge of pity. He’d been there four years ago, when his father had berated him for dropping out of Stanford. “Look, I get it. I’m not living up to my father’s expectations, either, but—”
“You and I are nothing alike. Understand? At least I’ve got a doctorate. You’re just the pathetic nobody who tried to screw me over. So I’m not going to ‘get over it.’ Ever.”
Rick threw up his hands in frustration. “You want to keep being an asshole, then have at it. But karma’s a bitch. One day, it’ll bite you in the ass.”
In his opinion, it already had. Grant had no doubt assumed he’d follow his dad’s footsteps and end up teaching at an Ivy League school.
Before Grant could get in another word, Rick took off. His earlier buzz was gone, replaced by a mixture of resentment and anger. He shouldn’t have to suffer just because he’d called Grant on his shitty behavior.
When his phone buzzed, he checked it with apprehension. What now?
Olivia had sent him a text. Tonight was amazing. Only 22 days until Athens.
Followed by another. Can’t wait for that king bed!
Forget Grant.
Rick knew what was important, and it wasn’t the intense one-upmanship of academia. What mattered was making the most of life, having adventures, and connecting with people who got him, like Olivia.
