“Safe,” I said. “I don’t want to cross any lines or tread into territory that’s off limits. We all have things we don’t like to talk about.”
Gabi nodded. “Fair enough. Well, where should I start? I feel like there’s not much to tell, really. I’m not a particularly interesting person.”
“I disagree.”
She smiled, shyly this time, and twirled a strand of hair from her ponytail around her finger.
She needed a jumping-off point—something to get her started. So, I nudged her along. We’d discussed her brother briefly before, but she hadn’t wanted to get into it. But that was then, and this was now. Maybe we could try again. “What was it like growing up with a brother like Beckham?”
“Normal,” she said, “until it wasn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, when we were kids, we were blind to all the crap that comes with wealth. Growing up at my parents’ estate was normal to us. Having money was normal. Going on lavish vacations was normal. But by the time I was ending high school and my brother was graduating from college, things were beginning to become strained. I’d realized once I became a teenager that parents were never truly unbiased, and that mine had a favorite. Beck. I mean, I couldn’t blame them. He was freakishly brilliant. Motivated. Disciplined. He could achieve literally anything he wanted, and he did, and they were always there cheering for him, which sometimes meant they weren’t there cheering for me.”
Ouch. “That sounds tough,” I said.
She nodded. “It was. When he started taking over my father’s business, I felt even more ostracized and like I didn’t belong. I was desperate to find my path. My passion. Eventually, I figured I’d find something that called to me the way tech and science called to my brother. But, as you can see, that never happened. I am officially the younger sibling that my parents now think they have to worry about and keep tabs on.” She laughed bitterly. “They offered me a lump sum of money a few weeks ago because they were worried I couldn’t afford my mortgage. They’re so out of touch with reality, they have no idea how affordable my mortgage payments actually are, especially with my new salary. Thank you again, by the way.”
“Don’t mention it.”
She sighed. “They think I’m struggling, and I’m not. Their definition of success is private gated properties with huge mansions and lavish parties, but that isn’t my definition. Sure, it was a total blessing growing up that way, but I want to make my own way, and that means giving up those things until I can earn them for myself. And if I can’t? Well, I’m content with that, too. But always having them thinking I’m failing is kind of… embarrassing.”
I stared at her.
How did she manage it? How did she pour all of that out so effortlessly? I never could have spoken so candidly about my own father and all our issues. I’d have flipped the table in a fit of rage.
Gabi winced. “I’m sorry. That was a lot all at once.”
“No, don’t be. I’m glad you shared.”
She gave me that private little smile of hers, one I’d seen more today than in all the months I’d known her. “One day they will accept that my dreams don’t have to be the same as their dreams for me.”
“And what are your dreams?”
She shrugged. “I’m still trying to figure that out. I think I just want to follow my heart. Not the money, expectations, or societal pressures. I just want to listen to me.” She put her hand over her heart. “What about you? What are your dreams?”
I stalled. Dreams?
Gabi continued smiling at me, waiting patiently for my response. When one didn’t come, she cocked her head to the side.
“Don’t tell me you’ve achieved everything you’ve ever dreamed of at the young age of thirty-three.”
“Thirty-two,” I corrected.
“You have so much time left! Do you want things to stay the same forever? Where do you see yourself in ten years? Do you want a family? What about hobbies? Are you really going to just continue to grind until you’re retired? Wait,” she added, her eyes widening. “Do you even want to retire?”
“I never really think about all that, to be honest.”
She shook her head incredulously. “Okay, well, you obviously exercise, so you do something other than stay up in your office all day. What sort of exercise do you like?”
“CrossFit, mostly. It simulates the sort of movement I used to do when I was younger and growing up on my family ranch.”
Gabi didn’t let my slip up go unnoticed. “You grew up on a ranch?”
I nodded. “In Texas.”
“I knew it.”