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“You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Monica looked down at herself and suddenly the radiating smile slipped away. It was as if she just remembered what she was wearing.
“Oh my God,” she groaned. “I can’t believe you’re seeing me in my raggy sweats. No one but my best friends ever see me like this.”
“I happen to like it. Shows the real you, and that’s sexier than any dress.”
“Says the man wearing pressed pants and a button-up shirt.” She waved her hand at him. He had to look down because he could barely remember his name around her, let alone what he had worn.
Sure enough, he was wearing exactly what she mentioned. He tried to remember why he was dressed up. Then it clicked.
“I had a meeting today with local law enforcement. Otherwise, I would never wear something like this on a regular day. I prefer jeans or even tactical pants.”
Or pretty much anything other than dress clothes. But in his line of work, he was required to wear it more often than he liked.
“Even jeans are better than clothes that have seen better days.”
Monica managed to drag a blanket off the back of the couch and covered herself up. He doubted it was because she was cold.
“You’re awfully obsessed with appearances. I never would’ve taken you for that kind of woman.”
He knew when the last word left his lips that he had made a huge mistake. They hadn’t known each other long enough to make that kind of assumption.
“I’m sorry that caring about my image makes you think less of me,” Monica snapped.
It dawned on him how much he fucked up when she tossed the blanket off and started to get up.
“Wait, that’s not how I meant it. I didn’t come here to argue or offend you.” The words fell out of his mouth. “I just meant that I can’t understand why it would concern you when you’re beautiful. I mean, sure you’re gorgeous all done up, but personally I prefer this fresh relaxed look. Makes you seem all that more real.”
He figured he managed to smooth things over, at least a little, when she settled back into the cushions and placed the blanket back on her lap. It was a start. Better than her storming off and potentially kicking him out.
“No, I was out of line. Image is everything.” The way she said the last sentence turned his stomach. Like the phrase had been drilled into her head and he wanted to punch whoever the hell had done that. “That’s the Carmichael way,” she spit the words out.
“So this goes back to your boss again?” That man sounded like a douchebag.
“Yes, and I’ve only had to deal with it since we got out of college. Ash was forced to follow that rule her entire life. Well, until Bentley got her out. Now I’m the one who has to hear about it.”
“You know that’s toxic, right? No one should have to live up to someone else’s expectations.”
Luke wasn’t sure if it was the wine that loosened her lips, or if Monica was so fed up that she needed to offload her feelings, but he would sit and listen all night if that’s what it took. It was clear it had been a long time since she spoke out and it was his fault her friends had left. Maybe that’s what the women had been doing before he barged in and ruined things.
“Oh, I’m aware, and even if I wasn’t, Ash and Trista would have no problem reminding me. Ash has asked me numerous times over the years if I was sure the company was what I wanted in my life.”
“Is it what you want?”
Monica dropped her head back on the cushion with a loud exhale. “Yes, it’s what I want. I just wish he would trust me with it. I’m not even sure what more I can do to prove myself, but being the CEO of a financial company has always been my dream. Taking it over is the icing on the cake, but it’s not like I wanted it handed to me. I worked my ass off for it. I proved over and over that I was worthy and still it’s not enough, but starting over somewhere else isn’t an option either. I would be back at the bottom and it would take years to work my way up to where I am today. This line of work doesn’t favor women.”
Luke understood her predicament better than she realized. It was the exact reason he and his friends started their business. Leaving their respected agencies had been tough and taking jobs somewhere else would’ve forced them back to ground zero. Starting their own company was the only solution. Unfortunately, Monica probably didn’t have the same option. Whereas he had six friends to help offset the costs, Monica would’ve had to do it on her own. And she wasn’t wrong; most lines of work didn’t favor women. It sucked and he wished there was a way he could help her, but really his only option was just to be a good sounding board for her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She couldn’t believe she had let all that slip. Not even Ash and Trista knew how defeated she felt most days. Not because she didn’t trust that they would have her back; both would in a heartbeat and she would bet her yearly salary that both would help her find something new. No, she didn’t tell them because she didn’t want to be an added burden or to sound like a failure when both of them were exceeding in their lives.
Ash was an event planner, and a damn good one, whose client list was waitlisted because she was that popular. In three years, her best friend had managed to not only succeed when her father had thought for sure she would fail, but was thriving.
Then there was Trista. A famous retired model who now owned several halfway houses that catered to human trafficking victims and helped them get their lives back. Her friends were literally changing the world and here she was begging for scraps in a company where the owner hated her.
She didn’t actually think Carmichael hated her, but some days that’s what it felt like.
