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“No. It’s normal. There are very few people who have a job waiting on them when they graduate from college.” Gigi shoved her glass aside and rummaged through her purse. “Hurry and finish. I want to get to the Columns for happy hour. I need a date for a company party and I want to hit up the after-business crowd before they go home to their Labradors.”
“Or wives.”
Gigi pulled a lipstick from her purse and made a face.
The last thing Tess wanted to do was go to a bar, even as nice as The Columns was. She wanted to go home, eat some comfort food, watch Seinfeld reruns, and sulk about the shit sandwich life had handed her. No, not life. Her father and, to a degree, Graham. Okay, in fairness, Graham had only hurt her feelings when he hadn’t called like he said he would… and being awarded her job didn’t help matters. But, hey, she was Gigi’s wingman just like Gigi was for her. Maybe after an hour she could leave. “Fine, but I have to go by FedEx first. No more free copies for me.”
Gigi gave a humorless laugh. “Like the rest of us.”
“Whatever,” Tess said, wondering why her friend saw her as different merely because she’d worked for her family. Did that make her privileged? Lazy? Entitled? She had never thought so because she’d worked hard, but maybe the world thought her life had been too easy. And maybe it had been. Maybe being truly on her own would be good for her.
But her heart told her differently.
She’d loved who she was three days ago. Well, except for Graham’s knock to her ego. But even that she’d gotten over. Mostly. Her life had been gravy… and now it was soured wine.
“Put on lip gloss and brush your hair. Don’t forget you’re available, too. Wouldn’t hurt to find a little something something to take your mind off tall, dark, and deceitful.”
“My mind was never on him,” Tess lied.
Gigi gave her that look, the one that plowed through the bullshit. “You actually used the line ‘I found the one’ after that night with Graham Naquin. He was on your mind.”
“I had forgotten about him until today.” She lied again because it was easier that way.
“Whatever you say, hunny bunny. He’s a job stealer anyway.”
“Technically he didn’t steal my job. According to Papa Dearest it was never mine to begin with.”
“So you say. Still, it’s time to find someone who will make you feel better.”
A man instead of ice cream? It would be better for her thighs, although she didn’t want a man at present. Better to stay home and get her shit together… but there was that whole loyalty thing.
Tess shooed Gigi away. “Go fix your makeup or something. I can’t think while you’re nipping at me. I need to put the finishing touches on this resume before I can go out with you.”
Gigi huffed, but did as suggested, flouncing away, sliding a smile at a cute guy in a Brooks Brothers suit and pink tie. Tess refocused on her resume, wishing it looked a little fuller. But she was who she was.
And who was that?
She’d thought she knew. She’d been beloved daughter, tolerated sister, good friend and devoted VP of operations in the family company… but now?
Tess felt like she’d been dropped into a maze. Every turn presented a barrier. No job. No man. Anger at her father… and Graham. Self-doubt. She’d never had such barriers that required her to backtrack or climb over hurdles to reach her goal.
But Tess knew something about herself—she may have lived a charmed life, but she wasn’t going to lie down and flop about, bemoaning her state. She’d find a new job even if it meant going to the competition. Nothing wrong with a modern woman taking control of her life, leaving conventions behind.
And maybe she’d even get a new man… or not.
All she did know was that Graham needed to be a memory, and Frank Ullo needed to learn his daughter wasn’t a doormat.
Plugging the flash drive into the computer, Tess downloaded her resume and renewed her determination to prove to the world she could kick ass and take names.
Tess Ullo was a fighter.
GRAHAMPULLEDUPto the curb in front of the house in which he’d once lived. Looked the same. Felt different.
The Orleans brick with the intentional plaster smears and the beige stucco had once seemed so modern, so very much “them.” But now it looked pretty much like what it was—a townhouse in a decent area of Metairie, crowded in like the others. Pansies lined the sidewalk. Graham only knew they were pansies because he’d planted the same flowers in that spot years ago. He wondered if Josh planted them now.
The door opened and Emily flew out, dark pigtails flying, smile as wide as sunshine.
“Daddy!” she screamed, her sneakers slapping against the sidewalk.
