"What?" I ask, taking a sip of water.
"Foundry emailed me. Foundry!"
I cough on the water. Foundry isn't simply a podcast network, it isthepodcasting network. They sign big names, bring in smaller shows, nurture careers. "What did they say?"
"They want a meeting! The email says 'We'd like to discuss Case Files and the future it could have at Foundry.' Mallory, this is it. I can feel it!"
I sit back on the island stool, rub a hand over my forehead.
"Where did you go?" Jolene asks.
"I'm still here. Just in shock."
"I should respond, right? Do you want me to set up a meeting?"
"Of course. Why? Don't you want a meeting?"
"More than anything, but, Mal..." Jolene sighs. "You've been really on top of getting Cecily everything she needs, and turning around our social media game. But when it comes to Simon De la Vega and creating new episodes? You're kind of failing."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's hard to explain."
"Let me give it a shot," Jolene says, clearing her throat. "You fell in love with Simon's son, found what you've been looking for since you were fourteen, and no longer feel the same urgency."
Hugo chooses this moment to come around the corner, fresh from his morning workout.
Sweat beads at his hairline. He's shirtless, covered in muscle. A male smoke show.
I blink hard a couple times before saying, "Bingo."
Jolene has no idea Hugo has walked into the room, and keeps speaking. "Mallory, if we take this meeting with Foundry, we need to come to it with future ideas. They need to see a podcast that is not in short supply of episodes. And, not to sensationalize what happened, but this cold case would be an incredible pitch. Hugo was an Olympian. There's rich backstory, personal interest."
My forearms press the edge of the island, and I survey Hugo's response to Jolene's words.
He works his lower lip between his teeth, nodding slowly.
"What's Foundry?" he asks.
"Hugo?" Jolene says, volume raised. "Is that Hugo?"
"It's me," he answers, crossing the kitchen. Coming closer. Quickly, I explain Foundry, and their email.
"Hugo, I'm sorry," Jolene says. "I don't mean to make this awkward. For you, or for Mallory."
"It's not awkward," he answers, stepping in to me. He grabs the stool, turns me toward him. Leans down, and now we're eye to eye. "Mallory has a job to do, if she still wants to do it. I gave her my blessing months ago, and it still stands."
"Are you sure?" I ask, forgetting Jolene's listening. "Once it's done, that's it. It can't be taken back."
"When you first came here, I said yes because it felt like even though I didn't want to heal, I should. Now I'm saying yes because it feels like the right thing to do."
"So, we're saying yes to a meeting, then?" Jolene's voice interrupts the moment.
"Yes," I agree. Hugo brushes a kiss over my lips. He smells like salty sweat, and whatever it is that makes him so delectable.
"Your appointment is in an hour," he reminds me.
"Twenty-eight weeks," Jolene reports. "Are you free next weekend? I need to put my hands on my best friend and her preggo belly."
"We're free," Hugo answers for me. "You can stay here, with us."
