Four Of A Kind

Chapter 86: [2.61] My Real Interview is Happening Over an Appetizer

The silence stretched between us for a moment. Vivienne set her phone face-down on the table, which felt significant somehow. She never put her phone down.

Ever.

I took a sip of water. The glass was heavier than it needed to be. Probably crystal or something equally unnecessary.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

Vivienne’s expression shifted. Not quite guarded, but close. Like a door that had been open now standing slightly ajar. Still accessible, but you’d have to make an effort to get through.

“You may ask,” she said. “I reserve the right not to answer.”

Fair enough.

“Why did you actually hire me?” I leaned back in my chair. The leather was soft enough that it didn’t creak. “And don’t say it’s because I interviewed well. We both know Harlow made that decision before I even showed up.”

She studied me for a long moment. Her fingers traced the stem of her water glass in slow, deliberate circles. It was the first time I’d seen her fidget. The movement was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. A crack in the polish.

She was actually thinking instead of delivering a pre-programmed response.

“Dr. Reyes recommended you,” she said finally. “She said you were intelligent, hardworking, and desperate enough that you wouldn’t quit over minor inconveniences.”

“Wow. She really sold me.”

“She also said you were raising your sister by yourself.” Vivienne’s gaze stayed level. Clinical. Like she was reciting a report. “That you worked forty hours a week while maintaining a 3.94 GPA. That you were the kind of person who would do whatever it took to survive.”

She paused. Her fingers stopped moving.

“I wanted someone like that,” she said. “Someone who understood that work isn’t supposed to be comfortable or easy. Someone who wouldn’t fall apart when things got difficult.”

I could read between the lines.

“You mean someone who wouldn’t quit when Cassidy tried to make their life hell?”

The corner of her mouth twitched. Almost a smile.

“Among other things, yes.”

Marco returned with our appetizers. Some kind of seafood thing that looked like art on a plate. He set them down gently, asked if we needed anything else, and disappeared when Vivienne shook her head.

I picked up my fork. The food tasted expensive. I wasn’t sure how food could taste expensive, but somehow it did. Like every ingredient had been individually interviewed and only the most qualified ones made it onto the plate.

“Can I ask you something now?” Vivienne said.

“Sure.”

“Why did you actually take this job?”

The answer was obvious. “Money.”

“That’s the surface answer. I want the real one.” She set her own fork down, folded her hands in front of her. “You could have found other work. Easier work. Work that didn’t involve managing four girls with enough collective dysfunction to fuel a reality TV series.”

I set my fork down too. This felt like one of those conversations that could spiral into uncomfortable territory fast if I wasn’t careful with my words.

“My sister deserves better than what I can give her on my own,” I said slowly. Testing each word before I committed to it. “She deserves to go to a good school. To have actual opportunities instead of just survival options. To not wake up in the middle of the night worried about whether we can afford groceries that week.”

I met Vivienne’s gaze. Her purple eyes were focused on me with that same evaluating intensity she’d used earlier.

“Ten thousand a month means I can actually give her those things. So yeah. Money. But not for me. Never for me.”

Something in Vivienne’s expression softened. Just for a second. Then her mask slid back into place.

“That’s why Dr. Reyes recommended you,” she said quietly. “She knew you’d understand what it means to sacrifice for someone else.”

The weight of that statement settled between us.

We ate in silence for a while. The food was good. Really good. The kind of good that made me understand why people paid absurd amounts of money for things that weren’t strictly necessary for survival.

“Your sister,” Vivienne said. “Iris. What’s she like?”

I hadn’t expected that question.

“She’s fourteen,” I said. “Smarter than me. Funnier than me. Better at basically everything except making terrible life decisions.”

“You make terrible life decisions?”

“I’m eating lunch with my boss in a VIP room we obtained through fraud. You tell me.”

That almost-smile appeared again. “Fair point.”

“She likes manga,” I continued. “And anime. And giving me grief about literally everything I do. She’s the reason I’m still functional most days.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It is. But it’s good exhausting. The kind that means something.” I paused. “Do you have that with your sisters?”

Vivienne went very still. Her fork stopped halfway to her mouth.

“Sometimes,” she said carefully. “When they’re not driving me insane.”

“Like yesterday? When Cassidy stormed out of dinner?”

“That was Cassidy being Cassidy. She has feelings. She doesn’t know what to do with them. So she throws tantrums and expects everyone else to deal with the fallout.”

“You went after her though,” I pointed out. “All three of you. You could have let her deal with it herself, but you didn’t.”

Vivienne set her fork down. “We’re sisters. That’s what we do.”

“That’s not what all sisters do.”

“Well.” She picked up her water glass. “We’re not all sisters.”

Marco returned to clear our appetizer plates and deliver the main courses. Mine was some kind of pasta with seafood that looked like it belonged in a museum instead of on my plate. Vivienne got fish with vegetables arranged in patterns that probably had names I’d never heard of.

We ate quietly. The pasta was incredible. I tried not to think about how much it cost per bite.

“Can I ask you something else?” I said after a while.

Vivienne sighed. “You’re very curious today.”

“You’re paying me to be here. Might as well make it interesting.”

“Fine. Ask.”

I chose my words carefully.

“Do you actually want to run Valentine Holdings? Or is that something you’re doing because everyone expects it?”