“You couldn’t ask Andrew?” she asked.
I laughed. “No. He’s my boss, not my friend.”
“I heard your mom met him when you came to New York. Did she like him?”
“Maybe. She worries about me.”
“She just wants you to have a better life than she did.”
“I’m not nineteen. And Andrew would never—” I didn’t need to defend him. We weren’t together. I wasn’t going to end up pregnant and penniless.
“You seem sad.”
I sighed. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I miss him. I wish I didn’t need this job so much.” Not that it would have mattered if I’d turned the job down. The fact that Andrew had chosen having a CEO rather than me told me everything I needed to know. Sure, Goode had wanted me as CEO too, but he hadn’t made it a condition of the sale. Andrew could have pushed back, but he didn’t. He wasn’t the man for me.
“I just know you’re going to meet someone.”
I didn’t want to meet just anyone. I wanted Andrew to want me more than he wanted a vacancy filled. I wanted him to want me like I wanted him.
My mother had warned me about men who seemed too good to be true. The ones that made you feel like princesses. They were the ones who had the power to break your heart when they walked away.
“Come visit me,” I said.
“I will. I promise. Tell me you’re coming back for Thanksgiving.” How could she be thinking about Thanksgiving? We were barely in May.
I laughed. “Honestly, I haven’t given it a lot of thought. I can’t imagine not being—”
“Wait a second,” Natalie interrupted.
“Honestly, I’ll try and make it. I just haven’t—”
“I’m not talking about Thanksgiving. I’m talking about an idea. I mean, it might be crazy but it might—you said that what you’re earning now means that if you save hard enough, you might have enough money to pay for your mom’s surgery in just over a year, right?”
“Right,” I replied.
“And you haven’t asked you father for the money yet because there hasn’t been the right moment, or you feel awkward and because . . . Well, you’re not great at asking for help at the best of times.”
“I’m not asking someone for directions or to loan me an umbrella. I’m asking someone to cough up fifty grand. This is not about me being bad at asking for help.”
“Okay, but—”
“And,” I said, not finished rebutting her character analysis, “I asked to stay on your couch.”
“Well, I have two things to say about that. First, I don’t count because I’m your best friend. Secondly, I’d give you fifty grand in a heartbeat if I could. But I do have about seven and a half.”
“I’m not taking your money.” It was so kind of her, but like it or not seven and a half wasn’t going to get it done. “It’s lovely of you to offer though.”
“It’s not enough by itself, but what if you asked for an advance?”
“From my father?”
“No, silly. From Andrew. Say you’ll commit to staying there for however long if he gives you an advance that you have to pay back if you leave.”
“A salary advance? Is that even a thing?”
“I don’t know, but what does it hurt to ask? You say he wanted you as CEO because this other guy liked you. So use your leverage.”
“For fifty grand? He’d never agree.”
“Not fifty. Forty-two and a half—just over thirty thousand pounds, or whatever it comes to. If he gives you less than you ask for, offer to give up bonuses. Maybe you could make up any shortfall by saving every month.”
My brain fought to catch up to what she was saying. Obviously, it was impossible. There wasn’t a solution to my mom getting her operation immediately without me getting the money from my father. Was there? “You think I just go in and ask him for my bonus in advance? He’ll laugh me out of the building.”
“Maybe he won’t. He needs you. Even if he refuses, you’ve lost nothing.”
“Just my pride.”
Natalie laughed. The sounds warmed me from the inside-out, even across an ocean.
“Maybe he says no the first time. But maybe after a month or so, when you’re proving what an asset you are, you ask again. He’ll be more willing the second time. This way you’re not asking for a favor. You’re asking for what you deserve.”
“I’m asking for what I might deserve a year from now.”
“It’s just a change in timetable.”
Maybe she was right. Asking my boss for money in advance seemed easier than risking a relationship with my father. And I wasn’t asking for anything that wouldn’t be mine eventually anyway. I’d be committed to London for the next couple of years, but that was true regardless. There was little chance of me securing a job in the US earning the kind of money I was now—at least not until I could boast a proven track record. A couple of years at Verity would give me the experience I desperately needed.
I tried to imagine Andrew’s face when I asked him. He probably wouldn’t even look at me. I’d just get a terse no and be dismissed. But Natalie was right—it was worth a shot. I just needed to be as determined as I had been that first dark, cold morning waiting outside his office. He’d relented then. Maybe he would again.
Forty
Andrew
I was the first one to arrive at drinks, which had never happened before.
There was still five minutes to go until we were due to meet, but there had been no point staying in the office. I’d not been able to concentrate on anything since my meeting with Sofia.
“Hey, mate, what’s going on?” Dexter said, sliding into the booth next to me.
“I didn’t see you come in. You want a drink?”
Dexter gave me a look like he thought I’d lost my mind. “I have one on order. It’s not just you that have the bar staff wrapped around your finger.”
I nodded just as a clatter of chairs scraping against the stone floor caught my attention.
“Tristan,” Dexter said, as if an explanation was necessary.
He didn’t join us right away. Instead, he started talking to the barmaid who had rushed over to help with the upturned chairs. Within a minute she was giggling and twirling her hair like she was fourteen and Tristan was Justin Bieber.
“What are we going to do with him?” I said, nodding toward Tristan.
“It’s not him I’m worried about.”
“I’m fine,” I said, grateful that at that moment, Beck, Gabriel, and Joshua came through the door. Gabriel sat down next to me and gave me a pat on the back. The rest of them filed in, swapping hugs, handshakes, and fist bumps along with updates on whatever conversations they were partway through. I couldn’t join in with any of it. I just didn’t have the capacity to think about anything—or anyone—but Sofia. “Sorry about him,” Joshua said to the barmaid as he guided Tristan to our table.
“You’re here early.” Beck glanced between me and Dex. “You okay?”