My parents have been married for a long time now, but she’s never stopped staring at that ring.
They have their faults, sure, but there’s no denying they love each other.
That, or she just loves the way it sparkles in the light.
Sometimes it’s hard to tell.
“There’s a gap in the market, and we’re going to fill it. I’m sure we can bring the prices down. Keeping more pets healthy with the good stuff people can actually afford will make everyone happier.”
“Yes, darling, I’ve read your mission statement several times.” She glances back at her tablet and continues, already distracted as Charlie settles at her feet.
To her, my achievements aren’t the important thing and the details hardly matter. She’s too used to snapping her fingers and letting someone else make miracles happen.
But for me, that’s the entire point.
Principles are God.
Adopting a pet for life is fucking hard. Giving them what they need while you’re on a shoestring budget—especially in an expensive citylike Seattle, where food and housing for people is a constant issue—that’s harder.
That’s also why someone needs to make it happen, and that someone is me.
I’ve done my market research. There’s space for high-quality,healthyfood for dogs and cats that doesn’t bleed bank accounts if it’s just sourced right and formulated wisely.
I’m going to prove it’s possible, even if it makes me want to tear my hair out sometimes.
Hell,often.
Mom puts her iPad back down again with a sigh, looking at me over her glasses. “I know you have your heart set on this. But I wonder if dog food is really the right direction for you right now. You could always develop another app.”
“Been there, done that. Key word beingdone.”
I have to fight to keep from snarling.
Being a prisoner of your own success is too real.
My first start-up went terrifyingly well. So well, it’s left everyone who matters staring at me impatiently, waiting for me to work digital sorcery again.
“You have talent. We both know it,” she continues. “You could do something more exciting—and better for your image—than that dating app you sold last year.”
“Something better foryourimage, you mean?”
I know her real worry. I’m practically the face of Pruitt Brands, ever since my father couldn’t be.
“Well ... dog food doesn’t have a whiff of scandal, but it’s simply not”—she pauses and catches herself—“not very dignified.”
My eyes bounce to the clock on my computer. Damn, it’s still not time to head to the clinic yet, which means I’m stuck in this conversation.
This must be the hundredth time she’s brought up my reputation. There’s no denying the app made money and proved I can live off more than the family name.
If it were just about money and success, she’d be thrilled.
In her own way, she is, I suppose. Success is one language my parents know by heart.
What she doesn’t like is that the app revolutionized onlinedating. As far as she’s concerned, it fuels the playboy sins the press won’t let me shake.
She’s not wrong.
Still, I couldn’t give a flying shit about my reputation as long as it doesn’t interfere with what Iwantto do.
