Page 23 of Until We're More
“It’s beautiful. I work downtown in this cool skyscraper that makes me feel über professional. The first snow was totally magical—I felt like I’d woken up in a snow globe. Of course, then the cold set in, and I started missing palm trees. But it doesn’t stay cold for too many days. Not as warm as here, and the past month was sweltering, but overall, I like it.”
“You’re not lonely?” Brooklyn wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, I got so annoyed when I moved to San Francisco and my family constantly asked me that. But as someone who’s moved away from everything and everyone she knew, I also get that it’s hard. Especially at first.”
I read between the lines and figured this was her way of asking how I did without her brother. “Yeah, it was a bit of a rough transition, but I settled in fairly quickly. Don’t get me wrong, I miss Liam.” My chest squeezed as the truth of the statement hit me, and I struggled to keep the lightness in my voice. “And he’s not exactly a great conversationalist on the phone.”
Brooklyn placed the bills she’d pulled out of the envelopes in a neat pile on her thigh. “Those last three words were unnecessary.”
I laughed. “He’s much better in person.”
She pursed her lips and sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love him like crazy, but occasionally I’d like to shake some more words and emotions out of him.” Her eyes met mine, and she placed her hand on my shoulder. “You know he cares about you, right?”
For some reason, my heart caught. I knew.Of courseI knew. He took care of me and said he always would. He insisted I crash with him so my family wouldn’t take advantage of me. He said he’d missed me, and for him, that was practically a grand declaration. Maybe he cared about me in a different way than I cared about him, but I’d never doubted his affection. “I know.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re staying with him. I think he’s been a little lonely himself, but he’d die before admitting that.” Her gaze drifted to the center of the cage, where Liam was talking to one of the guys. He made big hand gestures, and while I couldn’t hear the words, I could tell he was doing his signature combo of pushing and encouraging. The other fighter soaked it in, nodding as determination set into his features. “I worry about him. He just works and trains and works some more, stubbornly refusing to take any time off. I’d hoped once we added the extra classes and the gym started taking in more money, he’d relax.”
“Relaxing isn’t really his MO. I did my best to get him to this past weekend.” I summed up introducing him to George as we ate Chinese food, Saturday’s adventures, and our lazy Sunday where we slept in and rarely left the couch. Then of course work happened, for the both of us. Monday night I’d had my pity party while he’d gone out, and we’d spent the next two days like ships in the night, crossing paths once we’d reached epic levels of exhaustion. I’d stayed up late watching TV last night, wishing Liam would join me, but he’d claimed he was tired, and I was sure he was.
While I was here, I vowed to convince him to relax more, even if he tried to fight it as hard as George fought having his teeth brushed.Dang boys, not knowing what’s good for them.
Brooklyn picked up the laptop she’d set aside, grabbed the stack of bills, and transposed the amounts into a spreadsheet. “Are you good with accounting stuff?”
“I’m better with charts, percentages, and crunching data, but I can hold my own.”
“Don’t ever let my dad know, or he’ll recruit you.”
“At this point, it’d be nice to know I’m wanted that badly.”
Brooklyn’s fingers slowed on the keyboard. She hit a few buttons, closed her laptop, and set it aside. “Spill.”
I thought about waving it off, but I needed to talk about it. “When I envision the future I want, I see myself in a sleek office, running things my way. And I’m sure everyone pictures themselves as the boss, but I’m good at what I do. The part I fail at is boldly stating my opinions. I know what I’m doing unless someone questions me. Or gives me a mean look. Then I sort of fall apart, and I’ll never get very high on the ladder that way. My ideas will never be heard over the people who state theirs with more confidence.”
“I get it,” Brooklyn said. “You’d think in the art world that it’d only be about the art—that your method and medium and how well you carry them out would be all that matters. But in this day and age, if you don’t push and market yourself, you get lost in the noise.”
“Exactly.”
“Here’s the thing. You’re brilliant, and you’d make a kickass boss. I can tell you that until I’m blue in the face, but you need to believe it. Until then, fake it till you make it.”
“I’ve been trying that method, but it’s not working as well as I hoped.” Someone kept getting in the way, undermining me and giving my confidence a shakedown before I could pretend I had it. “I’ll keep trying, but…” I fiddled with the ankle strap on my heels. “What about…mean girls?”
Brooklyn’s fists curled. “Do I need to have a talk with someone?”
“Jeez, you’re as bad as your brother.” I appreciated that they always had my back, but the problem came when I couldn’t take them to the office with me on a daily basis. “I need to figure out how to deal with them without him—or you—taking care of it. Though I do love your willingness to throw down.”
“What can I say? That Roth trait is strong.” Brooklyn sat back. “You might need to toss in some intimidation tactics. Show her that she’ll regret crossing you. Then ignore her as much as you can, work your ass off, and make enough noise that your boss noticesyou.”
“At least I have the advantage of my boss already knowing me.”
“There you go. And if you weren’t amazing at your job, he wouldn’t have brought you along.”
I winced, my confidence flailing again. “I practically had to beg. They’re not sold on my managerial skills—they told me I needed to be more assertive, even though I thought I’d improved by leaps and bounds. Which just messes with my head more. I feel like this is my chance to prove myself, while we’re in a smaller office.” I bit my thumbnail. “What if I mess it up?”
“Nowhat ifs, and definitely no thinking of losing as an option. Remember, I was raised in this gym. Here it’s visualizing, endurance, and arrogance. I occasionally give Shane crap for how cocky he is, but he once pointed out that if he didn’t think he could win, he’d never be able to step into the cage and do what he needs to do. Same goes for you.” She bumped her shoulder into mine. “Just less punching and more crushing presentations.”
“Right. I guess my error was not expecting the presentations to hit back,” I joked. “Liam suggested we bring you in, given that grown men twice your size are scared of you.”
“That’s mostly due to not taking their shit. As much as I hate to admit it, people being aware of who my family is factors in as well. But I also like to do one thing every month that challenges—or even scares—me. Whether it’s with my art, or at work, or like when I went all in with Shane.”
I could do that. Since I needed a quick turnaround, maybe I’d attempt one challenging thing a week.
