Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“I’m writing a series on billionaires,” I cut over her, and I swear the entire table held their breath. “I’ve had to do tons of research, of course, since I’m not a billionaire myself.” She narrowed her gaze on me. “And you want to know the most surprising thing I’ve discovered?” I asked and didn’t wait for her to respond before I answered. “How much someone like Asher distributes his wealth to those in need. He donates to a variety of charities, gives his time to organizations in need, and never stops for a second to think about himself. I can’t even tempt him into a weekend trip to the Keys.” I looked at him, and he met my gaze, a sadness and understanding churning in his eyes. “I can’t think of one person I know who does more for the greater good than your son.”
Asher’s mom smiled at me, but it was in more of an oh honey way than a genuine way. “That’s nice, dear,” she said. “But you don’t know my son the way I do. And you never will. You may make a good living with your books, but they aren’t changing the world, now are they? And that’s what this family does, strives for. Anything less is just…less.”
“I’ll have you know that hundreds of thousands of readers around the world find an escape through my daughter’s work,” my mom snapped. “People who are struggling with mental health or hurting or simply needing a moment of joy outside this wretched world, and her stories give that to them!”
A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed around it, smiled, and pushed away from the table. “It was really nice meeting you all.”
I hurried through the house, noting the sound of raised voices the second I cleared the room. I didn’t even check to see if Asher followed me. I just had to get out of there. I barreled through the front door, walking down his long graveled drive and following it until I found my favorite cobblestone path that led to Asher’s manicured gardens.
I knew she meant well, but Asher’s mother had hit a nerve first with her clear dislike of my career choice and then her taking Asher to task for no reason. Sure, she was suspicious of me for being with her son for his money and was trying to protect him, but that didn’t excuse her lack of tact when it came to placing value or no value on what Asher spent his time doing.
I sank onto the small wooden bench, looking at flowers under the moonlight, and took a deep breath.
Asher had told me his mother had been the one to help him design his vibrant landscape that sprawled across his estate. He’d told me as children, she’d always tried to give her chaotic kids a safe and tranquil space to retreat to when the demands of the world weighed too heavy. That story made me hear her comments in a new light, one of that of a mother who had somehow raised three genius-level children and the pressures that came with that. She wanted them to use their brains for the greater good, but only if she deemed which greater good was worthy.
Asher’s and my conversation from the other day about wanting children someday raced through my mind and sank like a stone in the pit of my stomach.
Because if we somehow made this work and did have children, they’d be given the same treatment by his mother. Be held to the same expectations—save the world or be seen as unworthy. And I would never, ever let any children of mine be subjected to anything like that. But I’d also never be the person who forced my partner to choose between his family’s way or my way. I’d never want to put Asher in a position like that.
“I thought you could use a beer,” Nathan’s voice sounded behind me, and I turned to take the extended bottle from him. “But I can leave if you want to be alone.”
“No,” I said, taking a sip. “Please sit.”
Nathan settled next to me on the bench, his large frame eating up a good deal of it. In another moment—one not weighed heavy by the clear unacceptance from Asher’s family—I probably would’ve been freaking out that Nathan Noble was sitting next to me. But right now, I could barely muster anything other than worry in my heart.
“Asher and his mom are having it out,” Nathan explained, sipping from his own beer. “Harper too.”
I raked a hand through my hair. “I never wanted to be a source of argument for his family,” I said. “I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he cut me off. “I have a few more years on this family than you, and I can tell you their arguments about what they should and should not be doing…or dating…are standard.”