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His eyes grow hazy.Mission accomplished.
He lifts two clean glasses from the dish rack and slides them onto a shelf. “You know, when you say shit like that to me, it sounds like you’re offering.”
I grin. “I thought it went without saying that I’m offering.”
He braces himself on the bar with a brow raised. “First, we need to discuss why you’re so scared to apply for this job.”
Dammit.
I throw out my hands. “I’m not scared. There’s just no point!”
“Would you stake your life on it? Is there even aonepercent chance that their CEO is as idiotic as me and would hire you?”
I shrug. “Fine.Maybea one percent chance.”
“Then you don’t know for sure, and you’re being a coward.”
I laugh. “Calling me a coward is not the way to make this conversation lead to sex.”
His tongue slides over his upper lip. “I don’t need to make this conversation lead to sex. That part was already established. But now you’re not getting it until you’ve applied for that job.”
* * *
Beck readsmy cover letter to Holzig over my shoulder the next morning like a helicopter parent. He hasn’t laid a finger on me in a full day.
“No,” he says.
I turn to look up at him. “What the hell is wrong with it?”
“You know exactly what this company needs to blow up, but that cover letter sounds like one you’ve sent to a hundred other places. Stop phoning this in like it’s something you’re certain isn’t going to happen.”
“Funny how the guy who faked tax returns four years in a row is suddenly a master of industry,” I mutter, turning to delete the letter.
He leans down, laughing as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “It’s cute, the way you get so irritated when I’m right.”
Once he leaves, I turn back to my laptop and begin again. This time, I lay out what they’re doing well—andwhat they could be doing better.
It’s a risky strategy, one that could easily piss off whoever’s reading it, but if Holzig is actually interested in winning at this, they might be willing to hear some constructive criticism.
I’dhire the person who wrote this letter. But would I hire her after I learned she was a drug addict? Would I hire her if I discovered there’d been some financial mismanagement at her last job?
Probably not. I guess I’m really just hoping someone at Holzig has more faith in human nature than I do.
30
KATE
I’m standing at the bar with Beck, nagging him about paperwork, when Rachel bursts in, waving a file in the air. “Look what I have!” she cries. “Berkeley sent your list!”
She pulls me toward the office. “There are a lot of names,” she warns, handing me the file. “It’s going to take a while.”
My stomach tightens. I might know who my father is today. Maybe he has no clue I exist or maybe he’s an asshole who just wishes Ididn’texist. Maybe I have brothers or sisters and will go from having no family at all to a large one in a matter of hours, or maybe he’s a gross old man who preys on his students and will deny everything.
When we get into the office, I open the file—between visiting professors, research faculty, and teaching assistants, there are at least fifty names. I increasingly want to forget this whole thing. “I appreciate this, but you didn’t need to drive it over. You should be resting.”
She shoves my shoulder. “Are you kidding? We need to start researching!” She grabs one of the two sheets from the folder and marches toward Beck’s desk. “You take half and I’ll take half.”
“Rachel, what the hell are we even going to do? Do we write and ask if they slept with one of their students a couple decades ago? They probablyalldid. And who’s going to admit to it?”
