Free Dancing With Danger (BWWM 2015) (BWWM Billionaire Romance) by Cristina Grenier

leaned in, peering at her screen with a frown on his face. “Hollybrook Grounds. Coffee shop?”
    Andrea nodded. “And Hartwell Diner speaks for itself, I guess.”
    “It certainly does.” Dorian shook his head and looked at her. “I don’t see why you should keep either of those jobs, personally.”
    “Well, I do have to work,” Andrea explained. “I mean. It’s hard enough for me to accept that I live here and don’t pay any rent and eat your food. I need. I have to be able to buy things for myself, you know. And I have bills to pay. That kind of thing.”
    The conversation had barely started, and already it was abundantly clear that the two of them were from different worlds. It was like a chasm had opened up between them and on one side was Dorian, who had likely never had to do a real day’s work in his life, and then on the other was Andrea, who was used to working her fingers to the bone for no thanks at all.
    “Well, yes,” Dorian allowed, voice soft and slow as if he were speaking to a child. “But no one said you have to keep working jobs like this.”
    And yep. That was a definite red flag and a sign that she needed to end this conversation. It was clear that Dorian had no idea where she was coming from, and continuing like this was probably only going to make things harder than they had to be.
    It was going to end in a fight, more than likely, and that wasn’t what she wanted.
    But, of course, her temper had a mind of its own, and so she drew herself up as much as she could and narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? What’s wrong with my jobs?”
    “They’re menial. Service positions.”
    “And you look down on people in service positions?” she fired back. “People like Carlos and Anita? The people who clean your house? My brother?”
    “That’s not what I said. And it’s not the same, anyway.”
    “How is it not the same?” Andrea demanded. “They serve you. They work for you.”
    “Yes, but only for me. They don’t have to cater to anyone who walks through the door. They have autonomy and get paid a fair bit more than any coffee slinger could ever dream of.”
    The words hit her like a slap to the face, and she jerked back, astonish that such words had come out of Dorian’s mouth. “ Excuse me?”
    He had the good grace to wince at her tone. “That’s not. I didn’t mean offense. I just think that you could do better than either of these jobs. That’s all.”
    “And how would you know?” Andrea snapped. “You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know if I went to college or if I finished high school. Maybe this is as good as I can do. Maybe I’ve had to sacrifice and scrape by for the last several years of my life, so this is as good as it gets for me. Not everyone can waltz into a room and start writing checks to get what they want. Not everyone has the same opportunities that you have!”
    Dorian looked a bit shocked, and Andrea was breathing hard after her rant. She didn’t want to have an argument with him about this because she knew that it was going to be one of those things where neither of them could understand where the other was coming from, so they were just destined to be on opposite sides.
    It made her sad and pretty much ensured that even if they were to give in to the sparks that had been flying between them, it wouldn’t end well.
    “I am well aware of that,” Dorian said, and his accent was sharp enough to cut glass. “But I also know that privilege isn’t the only thing that can get people places. Hard work can do that, as well.”
    Her eyes widened, and her face flushed with fury. “Don’t you dare talk to me about hard work!” she practically shouted at him. “You don’t know the first thing about hard work. Hard work is taking care of your mother while she drinks herself to death and calls you names. Hard work is working two jobs and keeping the bills paid for someone who never says thank you and continues to