Jennifer resisted the urge to shake her head. Connor had always had a tendency to be snobbish. It was one of the things she liked least about him, the thing she had tried to pull him up on, or ignore, but it seemed to have got worse since he had been at Harvard, where he had worked hard to befriend the grandest students.
‘Maybe you should get to know some of them. Maybe you need to know a few more people other than your Harvard lot and your sailing buddies.’
‘What do I want to know these people for?’ he asked with genuine bemusement.
‘You can be friends with people, Connor, for reasons other than what they can do for you.’
‘Your idealism is very sweet, but increasingly naïve.’ He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
‘Naïve?’
‘You think that you have things in common with Jeanne just because she was in the same class as you for five years. You think that British guy isn’t on drugs just because he has a fancy English accent. You think you can walk out of an extremely prestigious internship in New York just because you didn’t like it.’
‘I knew something was bugging you.’
‘Well, we need to talk about it.’
‘OK, let’s talk.’
He took a pause for dramatic effect.
‘Look, my parents are incredibly disappointed. They might not have shown it on Monday, but they were so embarrassed by what happened.’
‘It wasn’t my proudest moment, Connor, but it was hideous. No one spoke to me, the other interns were bitches. You know, they pulled a sixteen-foot papier-mâché vagina out of storage, dusted it off, hiked the price up by seventy-five per cent and sold it to this Hong Kong couple. They were laughing even before the couple had left the gallery. It was the only time I saw any of them raise a smile.’
‘I agree, that was very unprofessional. But my parents buy a lot of art from Lucian, which is probably why he’s agreed to have you back. A proper assistant’s job this time. Turns out they actually liked you. Thought you looked the part.’
Jennifer took a deep breath, knowing this was the time to tell him.
‘I’m not going back to New York, Connor,’ she said.
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s not for me.’
‘Not for me?’ His brow furrowed in bemusement.
‘I know it’s the thing we are all supposed to do. Move to the city, make our name, fame, money. But why? We live in one of the greatest cities in the world. It’s beautiful, it’s always warm, our friends, our family are here . . .’
‘Friends? We’re in a basement bar surrounded by losers.’
‘You love i
t too, Connor, or else why are you here?’
‘Because I live here. For now,’ he added pointedly.
‘You love Savannah as much as I do. I know you’re hungry to succeed, but your father built a fortune without going further than fifty miles out of the city.’
‘He’s in finance,’ Connor said in a measured and level voice. ‘The money markets are the new gold rush. My father’s done well, but to achieve my potential, I have to be in the financial centre of the world, and right now, that place is New York.’
The passion in his eyes made her smile. If his snobbery was something she disliked, his singular confidence and self-belief had always been attractive.
‘You can’t sail in New York,’ she said playfully.
‘Manhattan is an island. Besides, I’ll be too busy for hobbies. Do you know how hard they work you at Goldman’s?’
‘Life isn’t all about work,’ she sighed. She’d seen it with friends at her own college. Sucked into a cycle of thinking that achievement was everything, they had left Wellesley straight for New York without even considering other options.