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“I think I'm going to be able to do it without selling the condo though, Olivia. This job pays pretty well. A hell of a lot better than any other job I've had,” I explain. “I think that I'll be able to put enough back into school in time.”
“In time. How long is that? You could move into my guest house and get back into school now,” she says. “You can have your law degree and be living your dream in no time flat.”
I let out a breath and look away. I know what she's saying is true. I know it's smart and it's practical. But it would also be an admission that I can't handle my life on my own. An admission that I need help. That, more than anything, is what is keeping me from pulling the trigger and putting her idea into action.
“Babe, you are the smartest person I know –”
“Hardly,” I cut her off.
“I don't spout false platitudes. You know that.”
I compress my lips and nod. She's right. Olivia is honest to a fault. She's never been a woman who'd tell you the pants you're wearing look good when they actually make your ass look enormous – as I learned from personal experience. Good or bad, you know you're getting the truth from her.
“Believe me when I tell you that you really are the smartest person I know,” she continues. “You're way too smart to be working some meaningless clerical job. You should be arguing in front of the Supreme Court.”
I laugh and she smiles along with me, the mood in the room starting to lighten a bit as her joke cuts through some of the tension. Although I can't deny that there's some small part of me that really would like to deliver an argument before the Supreme Court.
“Your pride is holding you back, Emily,” she says. “It's keeping you from moving forward, and you're letting it leave you stuck in one place. And it's not necessarily a good place.”
I pull on the ends of my hair, absorbing everything she's saying, the buzz of having landed the job completely gone. I can't be mad at her for that, since she's not wrong in what she's saying. She’s trying to encourage me. She's trying to shake me out of complacency and remind me that I have dreams and goals – things I want to accomplish in this life.
One thing I've found being in the position I've been stuck in since my dad died is that it's easy to get complacent. It's even easier to lower the goals and expectations you have for yourself. When you're struggling just to survive, you're willing to accept way less than you would demand of yourself otherwise.
“I'm sorry, babe. I don't mean to rain on your parade. I'm glad you landed this job. I really am,” she offers. “I just – I don't want to see you remain stuck in the position you're in. Not when you've got options available to you.”
I sigh and then drain the last of my wine, setting my empty glass down in front of me and looking at it as my mind swirls with a million different thoughts. She's not wrong. I let myself get so caught up in the fact that I landed the job that I hadn’t been thinking about the bigger picture.
And that's a thought that worries me a lot. Am I already accepting mediocrity as the norm for my life? Am I already, on some levels deep down within me, expecting less of myself?
Even more worrying, am I subconsciously allowing myself to be resistant to the idea Olivia keeps proposing simply because I've already begun the process of abandoning my dreams and my goals?
Honestly, I really don't know. Maybe I am a little too excited to have landed such a menial job – but it's more of an excitement born of relief than anything. Still, as I process everything Olivia said and turn it over in my mind, I start to wonder if I'm allowing myself to be so happy to have gotten the job because something in my head believes that this is as good as it's going to get.
I obviously have a lot of things to consider, and some hard decisions to make in my future. I can't let myself slide into complacency. I have dreams and goals – and I'm not going to give them up. I can't. I won't.
“I love you, Olivia.”
She gives me a warm smile, reaching across the table and squeezes my hand. “I love you too, babe,” she says. “And I only want the best for you.”
“I know,” I reply softly. “I know you do.”
Chapter Eight
Emily
“And these are the legal offices,” Lara informs me as we walk down a hallway lined with doors.
I peek through the windows as we pass and see a variety of people, all sharply dressed, engaged in their daily workload. A few look up, others give me a nod, and still others don't acknowledge our presence at all.
“So many lawyers,” I observe.
She shrugs. “In the tech field, you need an army of lawyers for a variety of things,” she replies. “You never know what's going to come up, so you need to keep some specialists on staff. At least, that's how Mr. Steel views it.”
I nod. “Makes sense.”
I walk with Lara through the corridors of Frontline as she gives me the nickel tour of various departments. I'm not officially an employee just yet – the paperwork I'll need to sign is still being prepared for me, so Lara thought it would be nice to give me the lay of the land.
“In your capacity, you'll probably have to interact with the lawyers at various points – if only to drop off paperwork. You'd be surprised just how often Mr. Steel has to set them on somebody,” she notes. “So, you should probably get acquainted with them, since you'll be seeing a lot of them.”
