“Oh, please, that whole ‘Woe is me’ act doesn’t work, and frankly, it just makes you look pathetic. You’re talking to a woman who was born to middle class parents. My father worked in an automotive factory all his life and my mother was a kindergarten teacher,” Brooke explains. “And you’d know Mackenzie wasn’t born with a fucking silver spoon in her mouth if you actually took a few minutes to get to know her instead of making snap judgments just because of who her family is.”
Brooke takes a minute to close the sliding glass door behind her and moves further into the room until she’s standing right in front of me. I should just send her back outside and try to hold onto whatever miniscule amount of professional behavior I have left, but part of me wants to hear what she has to say. Part of me wants to see how she could possibly prove me wrong.
“Did you know her father didn’t hit it big until she was a senior in high school? Up until that point, they lived in the same two-bedroom cottage he bought with her mother when they got married. Up until he sold his first app, they lived paycheck-to-paycheck, barely scraping by. Did you also know that she paid her own way through college working two jobs and taking out a shit-ton of student loans?” Brooke asks. “Because even though her father finally had money, she refused to take a hand-out from him, and he refused to have a spoiled brat for a daughter who didn’t know how to work for what she wanted.”
My indignation slowly starts to wilt with every word Brooke says, making feel like an even bigger asshole when she doesn’t stop, digging the knife even deeper into my chest.
“Sure, when she graduated college she was hired at her father’s company, but she went through the same interview process as everyone else and makes the same amount of money everyone in her department makes,” Brooke informs me. “She’s still trying to pay off her student loans, she gives all her free time to charity, and she works her ass off for every shitty penny she earns, in a job that makes her miserable and one she only took because she knew it would make her father happy to have her close. And I’m not even going to get into the shit she’s been going through with her father the last six months and the toll it’s taken on her and the stress that has kept her up nights, and how she’s forgotten how to have a life. That’s not my story to tell, but maybe if you hadn’t been a gigantic ASSHOLE, she would have shared it with you.”
I can’t do anything but stand here and take it. I feel like the shittiest person on the planet, and I deserve Brooke’s anger.
“Mackenzie doesn’t care if you’re a ‘poor deckhand’ or the richest man in the world. She cares about what type of person you are. She cares whether or not you’re a decent human being. Being hot as balls is also a bonus,” Brooke adds, finally giving me a small smile to alleviate the tension in the room. “She was attracted to you. She wanted to have some fun and let you help her forget about her troubles while she was stuck on this ship with Bitch One and Bitch Two and a father who has forgotten she exists. Period. You don’t want people to judge you because you don’t have a shit-ton of money to throw around? Then stop judging people who do.”
With that, she turns and heads back to the sliding door, making me feel even worse than I did when I first opened my mouth and spewed my judgment all over a woman who definitely didn’t deserve it.
Brooke pauses with her hand on the glass door, looking back over her shoulder at me.
“When you finally decide to pull your head out of your ass, try using the words ‘I’m sorry, I was wrong.’ Maybe even practice it in the mirror a few times and try not to look constipated when you say them,” she informs me. “Mackenzie is a pretty forgiving person, and I still think you could be good for her once you get that stick out of your ass and actually get to know her. Don’t fuck it up this time or I’ll chop off your balls and make you eat them.”
Brooke gives me a small wave over her shoulder as she leaves, and even though her words make me want to cover my balls and guard them with my life, at least she managed to make me smile.
Formulating a plan that hopefully won’t get me fired, I race out of the main salon in search of Ben and Eddie, hoping they’ll cover for me for a little while so I can make everything right.
CHAPTER 12
Mackenzie
“Excuse me, Miss Talbot? Could I possibly steal Miss Armstrong from you for a little while?”
I refuse to turn around when I hear Declan’s voice behind me, cursing my body for betraying me when it makes a tingle go up my spine. Sitting Indian-style facing Brooke on the huge couch at the front of the ship down below the captain’s wheelhouse, I clutch the playing cards tighter in my hand, concentrating on the game of blackjack we’d started an hour ago instead of the idiot man with the hot voice.
“I don’t know, I’m about to kick her ass with this hand,” Brooke tells him.
I shoot her a dirty look behind my sunglasses for acknowledging his presence after I told her what he said to me, and for assuming she could ever kick my ass in blackjack.
“I promise I’ll bring her back and you can kick her ass then,” Declan replies, and I can practically hear the smile in his voice.
First, he’s a judgmental asshole, and now he’s a traitor. If I hadn’t already decided I was finished wasting my time with him after the pity party I gave myself in my room earlier, this would have put the final nail in his coffin.
“Ahhhhh, grasshopper CAN be taught,” Brooke mutters.