If I had the energy right now I would write the actual fun “Tony working on Pepper for a job while she gives him a makeover so that he looks as smooth as he tries to act” but this’ll have to do for now.
“Look, I know it’s a lot of hard work, I’m not saying MBAs aren’t hard working or very intelligent people,” a voice said, and Pepper could literally feel her blood pressure rise. The sensation was new, for now, but in years to come, the voice saying those words, triggering an immediate reaction of frustration, would become so familiar as to be intimate. For now, all she knew was that someone who was definitely too young to know anything was talking about something he knew nothing about.
“It’s just,” the voice continued, “I think business school is kind of a waste of time.”
“You’re literally never going to have to work for a living,” another voice said. Pepper, under cover of checking her very new, very expensive cellular phone, turned her head to identify who was speaking. One table over, in a bar too swanky for MIT students, a dark-skinned and extremely good-looking man in an MIT t-shirt under his blazer was talking to what looked like a literal child, wearing clothing that should have gotten him bounced from the bar if his fake ID didn’t.
“What’s that got to do with the price of a Harvard MBA?” the child asked.
“Pepper, don’t,” Melanie, who had made them come to this bar in the first place, clearly saw the expression on Pepper’s face.
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