Businesswoman Chapter 237

Across the table, a long-legged brown skin twenty-five-year-old brown skin lady sat. Her prominent cheekbones and hair cut gave her a regal appeal. Entrepreneur Paul sipped from his wine.

“And that’s what I’m saying. I work.”

“But you don’t have to work so hard.”

“That’s also a point. I work smart,” he corrected.

“Hard, smart…you work too much.”

Atkinson let out a sigh. “I know you work, too. You’re a model. Contrary to popular opinion you have to book events, you have to sit for hours in hair and makeup, you have to don all sorts of fashion pieces. That’s work.”

“But I don’t grind to the bone like you do. Working is so overrated. You Americans think that Puritanical existence is to throw yourselves into your work and then die and rest in paradise.”

“I don’t think so. I’m a proud nonbeliever in the theory of God,” he retorted.

“Either way, on this Earth, it’s about how much you play.” She mentioned this with a blase sound in her voice as if she were picking out what dress to wear. Entrepreneur Paul grimaced slightly at this remark. His hands tightened into fists of rancor but his tone remained even and contained.

“I wouldn’t be sitting at this table facing you if that were the case. I put in work because I enjoy it. The money is residue.”

“The money is all that matters, it's everything,” she voiced with a sense of unease creeping in her words.

“No,” he prepared to correct again, “It is not everything, it's the only thing.”

“Whatever. You have to have fun.”

“Work is fun.”

“You know what I mean. You should be with your friends and hanging out and just being bros.”

“Firstly, I abhor the term ‘bros,’. You don’t get here without work.”