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I stay as long as I can handle it before begging Will to either let me leave or take me home. Unsurprisingly, he opted to stay behind and pretended I had a migraine that needed tending to. When people asked if he should be with me, he waved them off, assuring them I knew how to take care of myself. I order a car for the drive home; thankfully, the driver wasn’t chatty, but it was a woman around my age who gave me a sad, commiserating smile. I hated it instantly.

By the time I walked back into my guest house, I was exhausted. Emotionally and mentally drained from a full day of being ignored by the people I’ve come to care about. Lamely, I check my phone once more after stripping out of my dress and pulling on a comfy pair of pants and tank top. When I see there are still no text messages, I collapse into bed. I knew I’d regret not taking my makeup off in the morning, or brushing out my hair, but that was a problem for Tomorrow Katrina.

Tonight, I just want to sleep and pretend the last thirty-six or so hours never happened.

Thenextmorning,Iwake angry with myself for not taking my makeup off the night before. The fact that tears are tracking down my cheeks by the time I brush out my thick, ever so slightly wavy hair is punishment enough. After I wash my face and pull my hair into a messy ponytail, I change into a comfy pair of jeans and a loose sweatshirt from my college days, then head into the house for lunch with Will and my parents. Normally, I’d do more to get ready to face them, but I can’t be bothered to today.

No one says anything to me as I slip into the house. Mom just tries to hand me a mimosa. With a shake of my head, I grab a sweet tea before bypassing Thomas and Will, who are talking about setting up a day to go golfing, and head into the dining room. Lunch is already spread out, courtesy the cook and housekeeper, but I know better than to start without everyone else.

“You know, Katrina has been making friends down in Columbia.” I turn to glare at Will as he sets his beer down and takes his seat. He smirks back at me until I sink down in my chair across from him. “I’m not sure I like the influence they seem to be having on her.”

“Are these the ones who are using her to fix a house?” Thomas gruffly questions, settling into his own seat. Will nods and he makes an irritated noise.

“Who are these people?” Mom frowns, looking around the table for answers no one really wants to give. “I thought you went out there for a job.”

“That’s exactly my point, Dr. Dalton,” Will continues, ever the ass-kisser. “They’re not her friends, they’re her clients. Blurring this line is just going to derail her on her career path.”

“What would you know about my career path?” I question, stunning everyone in the room.

Thomas sets his steady gaze on me. “Katrina, we just had a meeting about the project last week. You told me everything is on schedule, and you could handle it.”

I shrink into myself at the reprimanding tone, but I don’t back down. “I can handle it. Ignore Will, he’s exaggerating. Everything is on schedule and under budget. It has my entire focus.”

“Then why did you stop texting me that night?” Will presses. “You were out with Bryce’s girlfriend, which I’m assuming is Josie. And Mia was the other friend you were with, right?”

“Who?” Mom’s barely following the conversation, more interested in her third mimosa.

“Just Bryce Clark’s girlfriend and her friend.” Will waves the question off.

Mom’s brow furrows. “Who?”

“You know, Tom, I never got the chance to tell you I know Bryce and Carter.” Will is the only person besides my mother who can get away with calling him Tom.

“I always forget you were a swimmer!” Thomas laughs like being in the sport is laughable. “Got you through college, right?”

“Undergrad, at least,” Will corrects with a shit-eating grin of his own. “I had enough sense to give up and pursue a more meaningful career path.”

“You make it sound like they’ve done so horribly for themselves.” I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest in the way I know Will hates. He says it accentuates my chest more than necessary. I say he needs to get used to the fact that his girlfriend has boobs. “They’re both two-time Olympians, and Carter could be going for a third.”

Plus, they have countless records, national titles, and other accolades I wasn’t even going to attempt to name. While I was doing my best to learn more about the sport, I knew my limited knowledge would only add more fuel to Will’s fire.

“That might be true, but that’s all they’ll ever have. I have a solid career that will provide for me and my wife forever. The two of them have a rundown pool.”

I have the urge to gag at the wordwife. I don’t know who he’s planning on marrying, but it sure as hell won’t be me.

“Is that a lucrative business venture?” Mom is handed her fourth—or is it her fifth?—mimosa by our housekeeper, Betty. “It doesn’t sound like it’ll be successful. Who are these people again?”

“No one, Mom.” My mother is dangerously smart and always the epitome of professional, except when she drinks, and she’s well and truly on her way to sloshed. “Just the clients I’m doing the project for down in Columbia.”

“Oh,” she exhales, eyes wide as she takes a drink. “And they have a pool. Right.”

Ignoring her, I turn my focus back to the men in the room. “It’s not about being successful. Bryce and Carter want to provide kids the same opportunities they had growing up. The same opportunities you had, Will. You can’t deny the sport opened doors for you; you literally just said it.”

“Oh, sure, use the advantages the sport provides you, but they’ve made it their entire focus.”

“He makes an excellent point, Katrina,” Thomas says to join the conversation again. “They’ve had a moment or two in the spotlight, but they’ll never have more than that. Look at yourself. You know your place.”

Anger bubbles up inside of me, clawing its way to freedom. How could they not realize how damaging their words are? They’ll never understand what it means to be dedicated to something like this. Something that matters. They can’t see past their egos, and it’s taken many therapy sessions for me to understand I can’t make them change.