Page 12 of Be Your Anything
Instead, my focus floats off into the distance, trying to find solid ground.
My full name is Lennon Roth Montgomery Day, quite the mouthful to a kindergartener and something that weighs quite a bit on my shoulders now that I’m older.
Day was my father’s name, one my mother kept for a short time until she changed it back to her maiden name after the divorce.
Montgomery was my grandmother’s maiden name and ties us to the passengers who came here on the Mayflower.
But it’s the Roth name people recognize everywhere I go.
It’s the name on the foundation my great-great-grandfather began in the early 1900s, the namesake of the preparatory academy my friends and I attended as well as the memorial hospital that serves our community.
The Roth bloodline connects with the Kennedy family, according to my mother, though it hasn’t ever interested me to look at the extensive family tree of the Roths—or the Montgomerys—that my grandmother has stored away somewhere.
I’ve never been my family’s ideal candidate to lead the next generation or manage the family’s business or finances, but I’m their only choice. My mother was an only child, as am I. As much as she and my father tried to have a son—as absolutelyarchaicas it sounds—it never happened for them before the marriage dissolved in the wake of a cheating scandal.
So now, even though I might not have envisioned myself working for the foundation, I also know my family has expectations for me that take priority over my own interests.
I might have an obscene amount of money and all the luxuries one could imagine, but the one luxury Idon’thave is the ability to decide what I want for my own future. I’ve always been a rule-follower, and my mother’s rule is law, regardless of the fact that I’m an adult. That’s just the burden that comes along with being a Roth.
I got away with a lot more when I was younger, spending my life in a beach town on the west coast, but as soon as I went off to Brown where I would be representing the Roths to peers of similar backgrounds, everything changed.
I pledged the sorority I was supposed to. Did my hair and makeup the way I was supposed to. Wore the right brands, took the right internships, completed the appropriate degree.
Everything was chosen for me by my family.
It sounds somewhat ridiculous to my friends—Paige and I have hadmanyconversations about it—but honestly, none of it was a surprise, and it wasn’t as much of a burden as I thought it would be. I actually found myself enjoying some of the responsibilities that come with being who I am.
Particularly the event planning.
I might have gotten a degree in business communications, but I took an internship at the infamous Événements Magnifiques in Paris where I assisted with events for the French Parliament, celebrities, and the incredibly wealthy elite.
Luckily—thankfully—my family saw my interest in event planning as a positive and took advantage of my experience by hiring me to work at The Roth Foundation, though originally I was supposed toreportto the Director of Event Operations, not take the position for myself.
My eyes flit across my group of friends as I try not to allow my thoughts to resettle on my constant battle with she-who-must-not-be-named.
I’ve been truly enjoying my return to Hermosa Beach. I was only gone for four and a half years, but it felt like a lifetime. I’ve been back since January and taking frequent advantage of the freedoms that come along with west coast life.
The more casual attire. The immediate access to my preferred group of friends instead of theconnectionsmy family wanted me to prioritize in Rhode Island.
And the sneaky fun I’ve been having with Lucas.
Ever since that first night at the Dive-In Movie right after I returned from my internship in Paris, we’ve been… enjoying each other’s company, for the lack of a better descriptor.
I glance over to where he sits next to me, at the strong jawline and easy smile, the charming words and heart-stopping laugh, the blue eyes that are just as deep as the ocean he loves so much.
He’s everything I’ve ever wanted for myself, a man I was never able to fully shake when I moved away, one I couldn’t help but drown in once I returned.
My heart skips when he looks over at me, giving me a wink and a smile.
“Whatcha thinking about?” he whispers.
I grin, a slightly devilish and lustful expression that has Lucas’ eyes narrowing at me. “Nothing I can do anything about right at the moment.”
He bites his lip as his eyes drop to my mouth. “Something we can surely attend to later, I hope,” he replies, his voice low, meant only for me.
Lucas is normally so lighthearted. He grew up with all the money the rest of us have but without any of the responsibility, so his natural reaction to most things is fairly laidback and relaxed.
But that carefree vibe drops away quickly when he looks at me like that, with lust in his eyes.
