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I love my job…most days. But some days—like today—it feels like one frustration after another as I’m on the line for our clients to scream at while Angelica gets to swoop in withmysolutions as ifsheis the hero here.
I’m tired of that piece of it, and I know if I were working for myself, I wouldn’t have those issues. But I’m not, and it’s important to me that I learn from an expert in the field so I can build my empire from the ground up rather than throwing money into something I’m still learning.
My dad thinks I should start my own company. My mom agrees. I saw the way they looked around the tiny two-bedroom places Addy and I were looking at when we first graduated from college, but it was all we could afford on our salaries. I’m their only child, and their only wish is to spoil me, which is why theypay the monthly rent at an upscale place right on the water in San Diego.
And that’s why I text my mom after Bea convinces me to go.
Me:My boss gave me tomorrow through Monday off. Can I come visit?
Mom:Of course! I’ll call up Vicki for the plane ticket.
Vicki is her travel agent, and an hour later, a first-class plane ticket to Vegas leaving early tomorrow morning appears in my email.
Me:Thanks, Mom. Can’t wait to see you.
Mom:Fly safe. I’ll arrange for a car service to bring you home.
Me:I’m fine with a Lyft.
Mom:Just let me do this for you. [smiley face]
At noon the next day, the car she sent for me pulls up to a gorgeous mansion with palm trees lining the sidewalk leading to the front door. I step out into the dry ninety-eight degrees of mid-June in Vegas, weather I’m not used to back home since we live near the humid beach, and the driver gets my suitcase for me.
I knock on the rather large wooden front door, and my mom opens it a minute later. “Desiree Joy, I’ve missed you so!” she says, pulling me into a hug.
We’ve never gone four months without seeing each other. Ever.
But I’ve also never been twenty-five and living in a different city from my parents, either.
I sigh as she holds me a few extra beats, and then she invites me in.
“Dad’s at work. Let me show you around and then we can head to the Shops at Crystals and find you a gown.”
“Sounds good. The event is tomorrow?” I ask.
She nods. “The annual Vegas Aces Charity Ball. I booked salon appointments for us this afternoon and tomorrow morning. Dad was able to secure a last-minute ticket for you, but I don’t think you’ll be at our table.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll make friends.” I’m fairly outgoing most of the time, and I’ve never been intimidated by football players since I grew up around them.
But I have to be honest here. I don’t know many players on the Aces. They’re not in our division or our conference, so we don’t regularly play against them.
And I kind of like that fact. They won’t know me either, unless my dad has a picture of me in his office…which definitely seems like something he’d do. Maybe a full-length mural so he can point to me and tell them to stay away.
But with my dad here now, hopefully I’ll get to know some of the players—at least through watching the games from my couch back in San Diego, probably late Sunday nights since I’m usually working on Sundays.
My mom shows me around the seven-bedroom mansion that’s just for the two of them, and it’s…a lot. Way more than they need, but they love nothing more than to show off their money.
The money didn’t come from my dad’s playing days. Player contracts weren’t worth half of what they are now, and his more recent position as a position coach didn’t pay all that much, though the OC position came with more money.
My mother hails from the fortune of the Berkshire line of luxury hotels. In the early 1900s, my mom’s grandfather purchased a local hotel in Los Angeles that became one of the most popular hotels around. Over a hundred years later, Berkshire boasts fourteen different brands of hotels and over five thousand locations worldwide.
When I graduated from college, I was offered a position on the executive board. I declined, and my parents were devastated since I’m the sole heiress to the Berkshire fortune.
But I can still be the heiress without being on the board. Hotels don’t interest me other than as a place to stay, and it’s not like my mom serves on the board any longer, either.
“Who will be at your table?” I ask.
"Oh, the defensive coordinator, head coach, and general manager. Plus their wives.” She lifts a shoulder.
