Page 22 of Mostly Loathing You

Thankfully, the conversation drifts quickly as the server returns with our dishes, setting the most mouthwatering eggs Benedict in front of me. The Hollandaise sauce cascades over the side of the muffin, encouraging me to reach for my fork without hesitation.

“Hannah,manners,” my mother scolds, causing me to drop my fork to my plate.

The server makes her way around the table, placing everyone’s dish in front of them. I wait until someone else reaches for their fork before I dig back in, not wanting to attract the wrath of Linda Thatcher-Miles.

“So, Liam, Stephen tells me you’ve taken on your first big client,” my dad says, turning his attention to Liam seated next to me.

Their closeness has always been weird to me. How my dadmanages to have so much interest in the life of his best friend’s son but can’t even muster the words to know a single thing about my life confounds me. As his only daughter, you would think it would be different.

“That’s correct,” Liam responds, reaching up to wipe his mouth before continuing, “It’s been going well. I’m confident we’ll get the outcome we’re hoping for.”

Despite their close relationship, I notice the way Liam doesn’t divulge any details, keeping his professional demeanor intact while discussing client information.

“How are you liking it at the firm, Hannah?” Stephen’s kind eyes meet my own, shifting the topic toward me, much to my dismay.

“It’s nice!” I don’t provide much more detail outside of that. I could tell him how insufferable it has been working so closely with Liam. However, given past experiences, I can’t imagine that complaint would go over well in the current company.

My parents, mostly.

“How is she doing?” My mom looks at Jackson and Liam, her eyes rapidly shifting between the two.

I’m prepared to be ripped to shreds by Liam. It’s no secret that he doesn’t exactly have the best opinion of me.

Jackson goes to speak, but hesitates for too long. I know any opinion he could share would be diluted the moment it left his mouth anyway. Every defense he’s ever had for me has been met with questioning.

“She’s been great. Very organized.” Liam’s response is concise, professional. He cuts into his eggs, clearly declaring that to be the extent of it.

I gape for a moment, shocked that he didn’t take the opportunity to knock me down a peg. The moment I realizemy mouth is hanging open, I snap it shut in an effort to avoid further ridicule from my mother.

“You really should check with HR about opportunities to segway this assistant position into an administrative career.”

Suddenly, I know why she’s randomly developed interest in how I’m doing at work.

We’ve had this conversation many times over, yet every time it hurts.

“I don’t want an administrative career,” I mumble.

“Mom.” Jackson attempts to divert her attention without success.

“Want or not, you need to get realistic. Acting was cute for a while, but you’re twenty-seven. It’s time to start thinking about your future.”

“I am thinking about my future.”

“Clearly you’re not. You continue to chase these fantasies of acting professionally, but it’s not going to happen. Community theater is fine, but you need to find a long-term job with a 401K.”

“I have an audition this week that I’m perfect for, I have a good fee—”

“You always have a good feeling. It’s time to be responsible.”

I struggle to keep the tears from spilling free. Based on experience, I can confidently say nothing positive would come from crying in front of my mother. The pressure behind my eyes and nose increases, leaving me staring up at the ceiling in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

“Linda, that’s enough.”

At first I think it’s my dad, but it’s not until I see the look of confusion on my mother’s face that I realize it is Liam who spoke up.

His eyes are pinned on her, his jaw locked so tightly I fear he may explode. I’d expect that response from Jackson, even my dad on occasion when he’s aware enough of what is going on, but never Liam. I would even expect it from Gen before I’d expect it from him.

Unfortunately, this progression of events urges the tears on even more, so much so that I’m sure they’re going to fall any second.

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