Page 31 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

I wave my hand in front of my face because they’re not hearing a word I’m saying. My glass is refilled just as Tatum pokes me in the hip. When I turn to her, she whispers, “Don’t ruin your night with a fight.”

My parents have moved on and are talking to Tatum’s parents. Across the table from me, my brother frowns. He knows the last thing I want to do is be a broker. Other than that, I’m not sure where I fit into the family business. I twist my mouth to the side and shrug.

Resting her head on my shoulder, Tatum asks, “Are you ready to go?”

My mom says, “Congratulations again.”

“The real world is calling come Monday,” Tatum’s dad adds.

Tatum sets her napkin on the table and scoots back to stand. “On that note, it’s time for us to leave.” We’re given a round of applause, and she takes a bow. “Thank you for coming and for the lovely gifts.”

I may not see eye to eye with my parents, but I’m grateful for them. I move around and hug them. “Thank you for the generous gift and for this dinner.”

“You’re welcome,” my mom says before holding my hand. “I know you’re not excited about the position, Natalie, but sleep on it. You might find it’s something you can grow into enjoying.”

Dad adds, “The real world isn’t always sunshine and roses. It’s time for you to put your degree to work.” I am, but I realize they’ll never accept my dreams when they have the best-laid plans in place already.

A sympathetic grin creases my mom’s mouth. “I never would have thought I’d enjoy my job so much. And I’m good at it.” Caressing my cheek, she adds, “You have a big advantage over me with your degree. There’s nothing you can’t accomplish if you put your mind to it. We’d be very fortunate to bring on such talent. That you’re our daughter is the icing on top.”

She makes me want to say yes, but my heart just isn’t in it. “I’ll sleep on it. Thank you again for everything.”

We’re quick with the goodbyes to the rest of the guests, friends of our parents, and a few cousins who I never speak to but who came to suck up to my parents. After we escape, Jackson comes outside and waits with us for a taxi. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“Is it that obvious we’re not going home?”

“Yes, to anyone under fifty.” He bumps into me. “Nice job on keeping things light tonight. They’re in a great mood.”

“I always have Monday to rain on their parade. No need to ruin a perfectly nice Saturday night.”

“Taxi’s here,” Tatum says, tugging his tie. They’ve never hooked up, at least that I know of, but she flirts with everyone, and he eats it up. “The Delilah Hotel. I heard the bar istheplace to be tonight. Are you coming with us?”

“Yep.”

In the back of the cab, Tatum sends a few texts and then contentedly looks out the window. My brother’s attention is glued to his phone screen. I actually think he’s working even though it’s already past eleven. Tapping his phone, I say, “This right here is why I’m not interested in becoming a broker. You haven’t even graduated from college, and the work never ends. I don’t want to live to work.”

He chuckles to himself. Cutting the light off, he looks at me. “Then work to live, sis. I know you don’t want to hear this, but if you join the company, I know you’ll be the best in the biz.”

Squeezed between the two of them doesn’t leave much room to wriggle out of this conversation. “I get it, everyone feels I need to put my marketing degree to use in another way.” I rest my head back, the lights from outside flashing through the windows. I nudge him with my elbow. “You’ve done your job in recruitment. Can we give it a rest tonight?”

My worries have resurfaced with a vengeance, putting an edge to my good time. I should have paid better attention to the fine print. My parents gave me a two-year loan to start my business and months to figure out my life. I can’t justify continuing STJ if I’m only breaking even.

Tatum and I have been working together, which has been fun. We’re alike in so many ways, but our parents are not the same at all. She received a blank check last May and was told to travel the world before settling down.

My parents could afford the same but have always said we need to earn our way in life. I don’t blame them. My dad following in his father’s footsteps and taking over the business when Grandpa had a heart attack was his dream. It’s even Jackson’s, who happily stepped up and joined the company part-time his freshman year in high school. It’s his dream to run it one day, and he’s well on his way, so why are they set on me being there to play second fiddle?

Tatum wraps her arm around my shoulders. “I have no doubt you’ll show everyone how determined you are. Together, we’re unbeatable, but enough business talk for tonight.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Great minds.” The taxi pulls to the curb, and she adds, “It’s time to party.”

She flashes her phone to the doorman, bypassing a line that extends halfway down the block. He steps aside to let us go inside. We cross the Art Deco-designed lobby and enter the bar. “Welcome to The Delilah. Follow me right this way,” a hostess says, leading us to a red velvet booth in the center of the room.

Tatum is quick to slip between Jackson and me to sit like the queen bee. I don’t mind since she loves the attention, and I’m perfectly fine letting her own it. Celebrities hidden in corners, socialites lining the bar, and the Manhattan elite fill the dark speakeasy.

Martinis have been flowing when Tatum perches herself on the top of the booth to chat with friends she’s run into. I know them as well, but Jackson’s been regaling me with stories from a business trip to Chicago last weekend. “He said he prefers traditional asses—round but firm.”

“Oh, my God.” I laugh behind my hand, worried I’ll spew an olive. “Instead of assets?”

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