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Wait! I didn’t ask his father how much he would pay. Of course, I assume it must have a good paycheck. Executive assistant roles normally do. A good EA can ease the role of a senior manager in a very effective manner. Provided the chemistry with the manager is right. Something I’m going to find out tomorrow, no doubt. Although, given the way things had been with his father today... maybe not.
"This is where I grew up, yes." Isaac gives his surroundings a cursory glance, then walks over and flings himself on the bed. His bag and mine have been placed just inside the room by the door. Craig offered to unpack for us, but I waved him off saying I’d do it myself.
Now, I wheel my suitcase over to the side by the wall, then place it flat on the floor.
"Use the closet," Isaac pipes up.
"Eh?" I glance in his direction.
He stabs his thumb in the direction of a door set not far from the bed. "It’s a closet."
"Oh, okay." I straighten, then wheel my bag to the closet. When I push it open, my breath catches. I step inside a space that’s about half the size of our studio. I hoist the bag onto one of the low-slung counters, then open it and hang up my clothes. When I’m done, my one good skirt and blouse, my spare pair of jeans, a few tops and sweat shirts, and my one formal dress have taken up a tiny portion of the space, along with my one pair of Louboutin's, which I spent nearly three months’ salary on. But darn it, I wasn’t going to buy a fake now, was I? Besides, I feel powerful when I wear them.
I turn around and walk out of the closet to find Isaac on his phone, texting away.
I walk over to him and he glances up, then places the phone aside. "So, what do you think?"
"I think you need to start thinking about what you’re going to paint for your dad’s offices."
"Ugh, don’t remind me." He plumps the pillows behind him and leans back. "I mean, what do you think of the pad?"
"Pad, huh? Are you trying to tell me all this wealth is second nature to you, so you’re not affected by being surrounded by luxury after months of living cramped in a studio with your easels for company?
He laughs. "Your sense of humor is your best asset, you know?"
"Gee, thanks." I sit down on the bed next to him. "Seriously, though, you need to start painting again so you can keep your end of the bargain to your dad."
"You know he doesn’t care either way, right? He’ll probably never see what I paint."
"Are you sure? He can’t be all that callous," I murmur.
"Wanna bet?" He sits up. "You think I’m being overdramatic in how I act toward him. You probably think I’m ungrateful, even. After all, a man who gave me all this" —he circles the air with his finger— "can’t be all bad, right?"
"You have to admit, this seems like being brought up in the lap of luxury," I agree.
"Ah, so now you think I am a spoiled little rich brat who doesn’t value what he has?"
"I never said that." I reach for his hand, but he pulls away.
"My earliest memory of my father was me performing at a school play and waiting for him to turn up, which he never did. Then, there was the time I earned top honors in my class. I came rushing home, eager to show it to my father. I walked into his home office in the middle of a conference call, and he simply gestured for someone on his team to lead me out. I didn’t see him for days after that. Not to mention, the number of cricket games I played which he never attended. The only time he seemed to take an interest was when I told him I wanted to be a painter."
"I take it, he wasn’t happy about it?"
"That would be an understatement. He was vehemently opposed to it. No son of his was going to follow a creative profession. He told me he would cut off my inheritance unless I went to business school and spent a minimum of two years working with him."
"And you—"
"Defied him, of course. I don’t want his money or anything to do with him. Craig and Miriam were more parents to me than my own ever were."
"Your mother?"
"She divorced JJ when I turned eighteen, but even before that she wanted nothing to do with me or my sister. She was too busy with her social life and JJ was away traveling more often than not. It’s Craig and Miriam who brought us up.”
"You have a sister?”
He nods. “She’s older than me. In many ways, she was my father’s favorite. Not that he had more time for her, but she seemed content with whatever affection he deigned to bestow on her. That is, until she finished business school and decided not to join his business."
My gaze widens. "She didn’t join his company?"
