She rolled her eyes. “Of course you did. Because your dad was a lawyer?”
I hadn’t mentioned my father before, which made me wonder who’d told her about him. “I always enjoyed advocacy,” I said, evading the question.
“I heard he was like the world’s best barrister or something. He had a nickname . . .”
“Alexander the Great,” I filled in for her.
“That’s the one. How’s that, following in the footsteps of a man who was nicknamed after a Greek king who conquered the world before he was thirty?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. She’d summed it up perfectly, getting to the heart of an issue as she always did. “It was how you would expect it might be.”
“Well, that’s an answer from a lawyer if ever I heard one.”
The waiter came over and poured our wine. Violet and I didn’t take our eyes off each other, as if we both wanted to maintain the moment before we were interrupted.
“Takes one to know one,” I said once he’d left us.
She frowned. “I’m not a lawyer.”
“Yes, but you answer questions like one.”
“I do not.” She took a sip. “This is good.” She lifted her chin to indicate the wine.
“It’s only okay, and you’re evading again. What happened at college that made you think that you couldn’t enjoy your life doing anything but waitressing?”
“What makes you think something happened? People can change their minds about things.”
I didn’t respond. She was talking bollocks and I wanted to know the truth. For the first time since I’d met her, Violet was something other than confident and sure of herself when she’d seen that newspaper. I wanted to know what could shake her like that.
“If you must know, my boyfriend and I developed some software. We put together a business plan in our final year and after graduation we worked hard for two years to get it to market. We were just about to start talking to investors. We had the next three years of our lives planned out and all these ideas of where we were going to take our business and how much it was going to grow. We were going to get engaged after graduation and married once turnover reached a certain level. I had a lot of plans.”
“And?”
“And I found out he was fucking my roommate and the business I thought we’d set up together was only in his name.”
I seethed. “He stole from you?”
“And he cheated on me.”
I balled my hands into fists. “That’s stealing, too. I’m so sorry, Violet.”
She shrugged as if she didn’t care, but I could tell by the way her glance sank to her lap that she still felt betrayed by it.
“And that company that you founded. That’s the one that’s floating on Monday.”
She looked up at me, frowning.
“I read the article once you left.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. On Monday when the bell strikes he’ll be a multi-millionaire.”
I sat forward in my chair. “Jesus, Violet. It’s not right. You didn’t take legal action?”
“No. I was so blindsided I just walked away. I abandoned every plan I’ve ever had. I didn’t want to think about the level of betrayal, let alone live it again through some protracted legal case.”
“So you stopped planning and became a waitress.”
“I needed a new place to live and to earn some money right away. I had nothing. And waitressing was fun.” She paused and tilted her head. “At first. And the people were all about the here and now. College is supposed to be about drinking and partying and getting laid, but I’d been too busy working toward my future. Focusing on my boyfriend. I wanted to live in the moment, to bask in the sun when it was out.”
“But eventually, you didn’t want to put your degree to good use?”
“I didn’t want anything to do with MIT. It felt toxic. Cursed. And I had no other skills. All that time and effort I’d put into the business had been wasted. I didn’t want to make that mistake again.”
“I can understand that.” It all made sense—why this clever, charming girl was meandering through life. I wanted to pull her onto my lap and tell her I’d fix it for her—I’d sue the guy and then have him killed.
“You would never be so reckless, of course. You’re a planner, right?” She adjusted her cutlery, making sure it was all set in a straight line.
Part of me wished I hadn’t brought up college, she was clearly distressed about it, but another part of me was pleased that I had—I wanted to know what drove Violet. I didn’t just want to know the woman everyone else saw. I liked the one who lay just beneath the surface even better. I enjoyed understanding why she did what she did and said what she said.
“I’m not so good at living for the moment. Not so good at basking in the sun.”
“Is there a pot at the end of the rainbow that you’re looking for? An end goal? Or is the work itself the aim?”
I didn’t have a clever answer. Perhaps an honest one would do. “I don’t know. I guess the goal is to be the best at the bar.”
“Do you enjoy the work at all?”
“Absolutely. I love my job and can’t imagine wanting to do anything else.”
“But you’re doomed to never be satisfied with yourself.”
Nausea churned in my gut. “What makes you say that?”
She paused, clearly thinking carefully about what she was going to say. “Because being ‘the best’ is subjective and your dissatisfaction with yourself drives you. You’ll always think you can be better because you always can be. No one’s perfect.”
She’d left me speechless and I could do nothing but stare at her.
“You ever thought that if you lowered the bar—no pun intended—you’d be happier? Change up your goals?”
She said it like it was easy. Like I could just click my fingers and be satisfied with mediocrity. “Mediocrity was a sin in our house when I was growing up. I was expected not just to get good grades but to be the top of my class. If I took on a sport, I had to be the best or I had to endure my father’s disdain. Perhaps I’m just programmed to want to do better—to keep that bar as high as it will go.”
“Whatever the cost?” she asked.
“I focus on the reward,” I replied.
She shook her head. “Do you ever reexamine the reward? Ask yourself if it’s worth it? I’ve seen how hard you work.”
I shuddered. I’d never thought about it. I’d just had a goal and gone after it—whatever it took. I’d made up my mind what I wanted to do when I was still a child and from watching my father, I knew what it took. I didn’t have a choice if I wanted what he’d had. I’d never once since questioned the goal itself or considered the sacrifice. I glanced up and Violet was grinning at me and her smile overrode the chill that had run down my spine.
“I’m here,” I replied. “Doesn’t that count for anything? You can poke fun at me, but taking the whole night off is a big deal for me.”
She didn’t laugh as I expected her to. She just nodded. “I know, which is why I’m taking it as a compliment.”
I grinned at her. “You should. I wanted to come tonight. To spend the evening with you. And it takes more than it should to draw my attention away from work.”