“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m beyond excited.”
“You don’t want to push it back at all?” I’d given up trying to rebuff my parents, acquiescing to their requests to meet with some of their connections. I had all but accepted a position at Karina’s father’s firm.
“Yes…” she eyes me suspiciously. “I already made several reservations. I know it won’t be super warm and nice when we get to Utah, but the parks won’t be nearly as busy then.”
The plan was to leave the day after classes. May sixteenth. We wouldn’t return until the end of June. Hell, before the internship drama, I’d even planned on swinging by Jude’s place.
I grabbed her hands and kissed her fingers. “It’s going to be great,” I said, ignoring the pang of guilt in my gut. I opted to change the subject. “Are you working on your presentation?”
She nodded. “It’s a whopping fifteen minutes all about the origin of stories and ideas. Nothing major, but it just feels so fake, wrong. Like I’m trying to be someone I’m not.”
“You’ll do great. You’ll dazzle them with your insight, pass out the advanced reader copies, and be on your way.”
“Then the book is released.”
I smiled. “Then your collection will be out in the wild and you will be raking in the cash. But more than anything, you’ll have your stories out there.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Relax,Alex Carlson, your real identity is safe with me.”
She snorted but still gave me that sweet smile of hers. God, I wanted to consume her.
“Will you be there?” she asked.
“At the book release?” She knew I couldn’t be there tonight, I had a meeting with my advisor to go over my capstone.
She nodded. “I know books aren’t your thing—”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And let’s be real, I think I’ve read everything you’ve ever published by now.” It was true. I found all of her academic pieces and published fiction and ate them up like the gold they were. My girl was talented. I didn't know much about book stuff but it was clear she had skill.
She breathed out a long sigh. “Thank you. I just think it will help to know you’re there.”
I walked her to her class, like I did every day, and kissed her too long and too hard before I left for my own, focusing on my work and designs, trying to force my anxiety to the edges of my consciousness. It didn’t work.
I hadn’t planned on going home for the weekend, but I needed to clear the air. Eliza never stayed with me when I went home, avoiding my parents like the plague. Instead, she’d slowly been moving her things into Rosalie’s place, prepping for the final address change. Miss Shayna had been more than happy to give Eliza the green light to move forward with the plan.
“Trask, baby!” my mom sang when I walked in. “I didn’t know you were coming home!”
“Wanted to surprise you,” I said.And they are going to be surprised.
My dad snorted. “More than likely here for Ken’s work party, huh? Excited about starting?”
I swallowed hard. Better just to get it over. “I don’t want to sign the contract.”
Dad looked up from his paper, Mom sat straighter on the couch, clutching her wine glass like it was the only thing keeping her alive. “Go on, son. Tell me why.”
“I have no desire to go into politics.”
Mom balked at the statement. “That is not what you’d be doing with the Denvers’ company.”There it is.No questions about what I want, just immediate defense of their best friends and their multi-million dollar business.
“That’s what it would be,” I said. “Political architecture is more about politics than architecture.”
“You don’t know that.” My dad stood. He liked to have these types of discussions standing over his opponent. He moved to the bar cart, filling a tumbler with a few fingers of whiskey.
“I think I am better suited to give you the details of my job description. I’d be holed up in an office, taking bribes from people to design what they want, over what’s best for the community. I’d just be another pawn people would push around.”
“Or you could become a more pivotal piece in the game,” Dad said, leveling me with his stare.