Page 65 of Dirty Billionaire

“Oh, come on,” I cried, looking at my mom.

“That’s the deal,” my father had continued.

“This isn’t encouraging her, Jerry,” Mom had finally piped up in support.

He grumbled, then started on his fingers. “Guitar, hip-hop dancing, photography – and do you know how much cameras flipping cost? – and what happened to becoming a fitness trainer? Then you finally agreed to study law.”

In my defense, no one had told me how early trainers started in the morning. I don’t rise before the sun. Not for anything.

Not even coffee.

“I don’t have the flexibility for dance. You should really take some responsibility for that. After all, I’m half your DNA.”

“Again, thank goodness you aren’t looking at stand-up comedy. Yet.” His brows lifted.

I flopped back on the sofa.

“Great. So finish my degree and I have to stay in my first job for two years,” I clarified. “If not, I have to pay it all back, including the first year of law school.

“With interest,” Dad said, standing.

“What?”

Mom patted my leg. “We are not charging our daughter interest. Darling, you need to think carefully before you make this decision.”

“You know, this is part of me figuring out who I am as a person. It’s normal.”

“Christ, next she’ll tell us she wants to be a shrink.” Dad walked out of the room shaking his head while Mom and I began to giggle.

“Laugh away, but I’m not funding any more of thisfinding yourselfrubbish. That’s on your dime now,” he called from the hall.

Then his head popped back around.

“Finish your marketing degree, Payton. Do at least two years in a job, then I’ll wipe your debt. Until then, you’re liable. Can I assume you learned what that means while you were studying law at damn Yale?”

More giggles.

“I hear you, Daddy,” I replied. “I promise.”

“I just want you to stick to something.” He shook his head. “You’ll be surprised what you learn about yourself when you are forced to commit.”

I hated that he saw me as some flake, when I really was just trying to figure out what I loved. Mom and I had talked for an hour after and she said she believed in me.

So I’ve been on a mission to prove to my father I could do this.

I graduated and then found a great job in Philadelphia. A year into the job, when I was nearly free of the financial burden hanging over my head, the PR agency sold and most of us were made redundant.

I freaked out.

The first thing I did was head home to speak to him in person.

“Dad, I didn’t resign, so this doesn’t qualify as me quitting,” I’d argued. After all, I’d been raised by two lawyers so I knew how to defend myself.

In my family's kitchen at least.

“I accept that,” Jerry Mills had said. “Find another job in thirty days and I will overlook this small blip.”

“I will,” I said. “So, one more year.”

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