Page 72 of Beauty & Chaos

“Please, the interest alone would keep you living in luxury for the rest of your life.”

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

I love the way this woman eats with no shame. It’s refreshing and sexy as hell.

“So you think I should turn into one of those fat rich bastards and do nothing with my life?”

“You could do some philanthropy stuff.”

“That’s what people with no money say.”

She laughs.

“Okay, fair enough, but help me understand.”

“Such a journalist.” I place my cup down and lean my sweater-covered arm on the table. I hate not being able to touch her from here. “It’s hard to understand.”

“Try me.”

“Most people on the planet work to make money,” I say, and she nods. “But what many don’t realize is that the work they do also gives a person purpose. And I don’t mean paying taxes or putting food on the table.”

“Explain.”

“During our careers, while working, we learn and develop skills. We find out who we are while discovering what we love doing—or don’t love doing—and how we work with others. We build friendships, meet lovers, find out what our pet peeves are. Usually because of annoying colleagues. Essentially, it’s where we develop as humans.”

Most people are too busy being in survival mode to reflect on this while they’re living it out. Or creating a family, working out how to pay the mortgage, keeping the wife happy with an annual vacation, and delaying the belly fat.

“You could do that while building homes with Habitat for Humanity or feeding the starving children.”

“Causes that have existed for decades and don’t seem to change anything.” I shrug. “That’s not where change happens.”

“You’re right.” Brook frowns. “I guess it’s easy to imagine what you’d do if you had billions, but different when you have it.”

I study her as she continues eating, the way her brows have furrowed as she attempts to work out a path she would take if she had immense wealth.

I love her mind.

Most women try to find a way for me to spend my money on them. Not Brook; she’s busy encouraging me to save a forest orthird world country. And calculating how long it would take to get a billion dollars so she can become rich enough to help the world.

It’s both unsettling and cute.

She glances up.

“Worked it out yet?”

“So far, by my calculations, I’ve lost all my money. Twice.” Brook sighs and glances back out at the mountain. “Being a billionaire is hard.”

I laugh.

Her eyes return to mine, a soft smile on her lips, then it fades. “Tell me about your family.”

What?

“Are you interviewing me?” I get really interested in buttering my sourdough, then bite into it.

“I’m having a conversation with you over breakfast.” Brook lifts a shoulder. “Because I’m not a billionaire, I thought we could talk about things we might have in common. I have a family. You have a family. Ergo...”

“That’s quite an assumption there, Ms. McKenna.”