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“Excuse me?”
“Just because someone’s good at their job, it doesn’t mean they love it.” She rolls her eyes. “The last couple of years, it’s seemed like you’ve just been going through the motions, doing what you have to do because it’s your job. You’re not passionate about working here, Drew. That’s not a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it?” I ask. “People would kill to have this job, to have my paycheck, to have all the privileges that come along with the family name. I sound like a spoiled brat if I say I don’t want to do this anymore…simply because I don’t like it.”
“I feel like it’s more than that. I think it has something to do with the Florida girl Troy mentioned.”
“Now you’re really reminding me of Mom,” I grumble. “She could always read our minds.”
“So, the girl…what’s going on with her?”
“I just, I didn’t realize how this job made me so…”
“Grumpy and cold all the time?” she asks, sitting at the table again.
“Something like that,” I reply, as I sit across from her.
I don’t bother holding back the smile that comes when I think of all the wonderful things about Meg. “I’m not like that with her. She brings out this side of me that I really like.”
“Around her, I don’t have to think three moves ahead to win something. I can waste time walking on the beach with her and not care that I could be doing something more productive. I can laugh and be silly with her and it’s so…”
“Effortless,” she smiles. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this happy. And I’ve never seen you this smitten.”
“Smitten?”
“That, right there on your face, is the smile of a guy in love,” she chuckles. “No wonder you want your plan to work.”
Smitten, huh? “Speaking of, I know I can get them to agree to us being a silent partner. But how do I get Troy on board?”
“I think you should just try again,” she shrugs. “Explain how important a move like this is and what it can do to add to the Bellamy name.”
“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one who has to talk to him,” I say.
“Oh, no, we’re both going,” she says, as we head out the door and down the hall to his office.
His secretary nods when I point to the door, signaling that he’s there and he’s alone. Just before I raise my hand to knock, I think about what Lillian said about what he might be going through. I can understand the pressure of expectations when they come from other people, but I can’t speak much to expectations imposed on myself when it comes to work.
“Please work with me, Troy,” I whisper, as I knock three times.
“Enter,” he says.
When we walk in, his desk is immaculately tidy as he eyes his computer monitor. He doesn’t bother looking up at us when we walk in and take a seat across from him.
“Round two?” he asks, typing a few things in before turning to face me.
“I don’t want a fight,” I say softly. “I would like to talk to my brother.”
“I don’t see what this has to do with Seaside.”
“Troy,” Lillian says, opening her laptop. “Just listen.”
“I know you want to do everything by the book. By Dad’s book,” I start. “Lillian says the business is doing better now than when Dad was running it, thanks to you. It’s something to be proud of,” I add.
“Flattery will get you nowhere.” He shakes his head.
“Neither will keeping a closed mind to finding different ways of expanding the business,” I point out. “Dad always said that a boss argues in favor of only doing things his way. A leader listens and considers new ideas.”
“Are you saying I’m not a leader?”
