ne. So like him to get stubborn when he’s backed into a corner. I don’t know why I never noticed that about him until now.
Mom continues, “I don’t want them to live up to some social expectation that the girls should just be pretty and get married and have babies. I want them to do what they want.”
Thank you, Mom.
“It isn’t like Pascal never wants to get married,” he says.
He’s so set in his ways that he can’t see how illogical he’s being. “How is that mutually exclusive with my wanting a career or make my own way in the world?” I ask. “I can have more than one thing in life, Dad.”
“So what are you going to do now? Business school, maybe?” he demands.
After taking a few breaths to control my temper, I say, “I’m sending out résumés and reached out to people I know. I’m waiting to hear back.”
“And…?”
I cross my arms. I haven’t forgotten him telling me to spend time with Court. I’ve been doing that, and it isn’t because of Dad’s wish, but because I want to. But I’ll be damned if I let him know. That’ll only make him smug, and I don’t think I can control my temper if he starts acting superior on top of everything else. “And that’s it.”
“It’s not easy to get a job. Matter of fact, it’s damned hard,” Dad says.
Would it kill him to say something supportive, like “good luck”?
“I’m sure you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for,” Mom says.
“I agree,” Curie adds.
Joe starts to nod, then notices the dark scowl on Dad’s face and bends down to scratch Nijinsky’s belly. Smart man. I don’t want Joe put in an uncomfortable situation because of me. Dad can be petty, and upsetting him right after the wedding wouldn’t be a smart move.
“That’s what you think.” Dad looks disgusted for a moment, then snorts. “You don’t know what it’s like. She has a huge hole in her résumé, too.” I inhale sharply, incredulous he’s making it sound like it’s somehow my shortcoming that put the wasted four years at SFG there.
“What hole?” Mom says.
Shit. Her eyes are flashing, and she’s showing her teeth in that threatening way of hers. I didn’t come here to have my parents fight over me. “Mom, don’t worry about it.”
But even as I tell her to calm down, Dad’s smugness really bothers me. It’s almost like he’s convinced that I’m going to fail no matter what I do. But how can he know that for sure? He has no clue where I applied or who I contacted. Even if he did, calling around and asking people not to hire me would make him look weird. That just seems so beneath him.
On the other hand, I didn’t expect him to actively sabotage me at SFG. I’m obviously not the best judge of character—at least not where my father’s concerned.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Court
Propping my feet on the coffee table in my penthouse, I wonder how things are going with Skittles and her family. I offered to go with her, but she turned me down, probably because her dad said that the only thing she’s good for is getting married and having babies.
Even though I understand her wanting to deal with her caveman dad on her own, it doesn’t mean I’m cool with it. Part of me resents Steve for putting such a weird wedge between us, making it impossible for me to shield her.
At least she isn’t going to be alone…although, for all I know, her family could be ganging up on her now. I got good vibes from Esther, but it was only for a couple of hours, when we were trying to get to know each other. She married Steve, didn’t she? She might share the same opinion he does, might even give Skittles a hard time for wanting more. And what about Curie? She might side with her dad. She’s already fulfilled half of Steve’s “marry and make babies” vision. And her brand-new husband Joe is going to side with her, unless he’s an idiot. He didn’t look like an idiot in Maui, even though he was a slow runner.
Maybe I should’ve insisted on going with Skittles anyway, and done my best to deflect any attacks against her. That way—
Nate lets out a loud groan. “Oh, come on! How can you win again?” He throws his cards down on the coffee table in disgust.
Yuna gives him a smug smile. “Mad Go Fish skills, man. Mad skills.”
“You know that there’s no skill involved in Go Fish, right?” I say. “It’s all luck.”
She gives me a cool look. “Then explain how he hasn’t won a single game.” She raises a hand, four fingers spread. “Four games in a row.”
“Maybe you cheated,” Nate says. He’s not usually competitive, but four straight losses are probably bugging him.