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And that’s different from you trying to strong-arm a small company into an M&A, how?
Itwasdifferent. Because the intention behind it was different. Keaton didn’t work to make himself wealthy—it was to protect his family, to build them a solid future. To give them stability. He wanted to know that his mom and Leah would be taken care of for the rest of their lives, regardless of what happened to him. Beyond the wardrobe required to keep up appearances and his apartment close to the office, there were no expensive golf club or country-club memberships. No fancy collection of cars. No home in the Hamptons. No private jet.
“It’s good to see there are still young people willing to work and not constantly crowing about how difficult life is. Most people your age seem to think everything should be handed to them on a silver platter. But you’re different.” The man nodded smugly, as if pleased with himself for passing on a compliment.
Not that Keaton took it as one, mind you. None of these fools would know whatrealhard work looked like—and he didn’t mean long hours at a cushy desk job. He meant the kind of work his mom did for years, working two to three jobs cleaning other people’s toilets and existing on little more than four hours’ sleep a night just to keep the lights on and put food on the table.
“Excuse me a moment,” he said, pushing back on his chair and standing. “I need to visit the restroom.”
He headed deeper into the restaurant toward the sign pointing toward the restrooms, but the second he was around the corner, he sagged back against the wall. The longer he did this job, the harder it became to keep his patience for all the bullshit small talk and elitist attitudes.
But what else is there?
It was a question that had been looming over him the past month or so. If he was growing so tired of certain aspects of his job, then what was next?
For the first time in his life he didn’t have an answer. After he got out of juvenile detention, his life had been a steady endurance race from one goal to the next. Get into college, graduate with top marks, get a job on Wall Street, get promoted, make a million dollars.
Tick, tick, tick.
“You have a goal,” he muttered under his breath. “Make named partner.”
It was the final item left on the career bucket list that he and Ellery had created together, their ambition fueling one another to aim higher and reach harder. But what would happen when he got his name on the firm’s letterhead? What then?
What if there was nothing else beyond that?
He swallowed against the lump in his throat. It didn’t matter if there was no other rung to climb, because he could always make more money for his family. He could always give them more security. If Leah ever decided to have a child, he could make a nice, fat college fund for his niece or nephew. He could send his mom on all the vacations she never got to have as a young, single mother. He could make sure they were debt-free for the rest of their lives. He could give them everything they’d ever wanted.
But what then?
It was terrifying to investigate the future and see nothing but a deep, dark hole. To see the vast and endless emptiness of a life lacking in potential.
“Keaton?” A feminine voice snapped him out of the dark, spiraling thoughts.
August stood in front of him, looking like she’d stepped right out of his dirty dreams and into reality. Her red hair was smooth and hung down to her waist, her full figure was showcased to perfection in a simple black dress, and a pair of stiletto heels gave her some extra height. He caught a whiff of perfume in the air around her—something delicious, like a caramel-vanilla dessert. It was a “come closer” perfume and it sent a jolt of attraction right through him.
“What the heck areyoudoing here?” he asked, the question tumbling out of him, raw and harsh. He shook his head. “It doesn’t seem like your scene, I mean.”
She blinked, as if unsure whether to be insulted by his brash tone. “Actually, if you must know, I’m on a date.”
Shedefinitelydidn’t pick this place, then. August was all about finding the quirky places off the beaten path or the family-run restaurants that felt like you were dining in someone’s home. Not places like this, with tiny portions on oversize plates and tweezer-handled garnishes.
“Your date has expensive taste,” he said. “And clearly doesn’t know what you like.”
Her mouth tightened. “It’s a first date. So no, he doesn’t know what I like yet.”
Yet.
She had hopes for this one.
“Point him out,” he said, poking his head around the corner. For some reason, Keaton needed to see who she was with. A strange and unfamiliar tangle of protectiveness and jealousy swelled in his stomach.
“Why?” August crossed her arms, which only served to enhance her cleavage, pressing it against the delicate vee created by the wrapped portion of her dress. A small purse with a glittering gold chain hung over one shoulder. “It’s not like you care who I date.”
“Indulge me. I come here a lot, so I might know the guy.” He shoved down his prickly reaction and winked at her. “Wouldn’t you want some potential inside information on the guy if it’s only the first date?”
August chewed on her lower lip for a second. Then, seeming to agree with his logic, she pointed. “Third table across, near the cocktail bar.”
Keaton followed the line of her finger to a table a few spots back from where he’d been sitting a moment ago. That explained why he hadn’t seen her—his chair was facing the other direction, away from the entrance.
