She swallowed, unsure why the question hit harder than it should have.“You don’t measure it.You create the conditions where it happens naturally.”
“Spoken like a scientist,” he teased.
“Spoken like someone who’s seen what happens when you don’t.”
That quieted him.He leaned back on the stool, considering her.“You ever been in love, Carlene?”
She froze, pulse leaping.“That’s not relevant.”
“It might be.”
Her fingers tightened around the coffee mug.“This isn’t about me.”
“Maybe it should be,” he said, voice low.“You can’t sell what you don’t believe in.”
She set the mug down carefully.“I don’t sell love, Jami.I create a narrative, and this one is about connection.”
“And what’s the difference?”
“Connection doesn’t break your heart.”
He nodded slowly, the faintest shadow crossing his face.“Yeah, it does.”
For a long moment, neither of them looked away.Something electric pulsed between them, unspoken, unexpected.
Carlene stood abruptly, gathering her papers.“We’ll start slow.Some soft interviews, maybe a behind-the-scenes piece.The goal is to show warmth and accessibility.We’ll...”
“Carlene.”
She stopped.
“Take a breath.”
She realized she had been holding it.Her shoulders sagged a little, and she gave a small, self-conscious laugh.“I don’t do slow well.”
“Figured that out already.”He smiled, gentler this time.“You don’t have to prove anything tonight.Tomorrow’s soon enough.”
She hesitated, then nodded.“Tomorrow, then.”
He picked up both mugs and started toward the door, then paused.“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re wrong.Fans need to believe in something.I thought it was enough that I smiled at them once in a while.They all squeal when I do.”
"Eventually, they'll see you're only smiling to make them squeal.It means so much more when you smile because you're happy."
"I'm not unhappy."
She shrugged slightly."But you aren't as connected as you used to be.I've looked back on old videos of your performances.It's clear the excitement you used to feel has diminished."
He took a deep breath.After a long pause, he nodded slightly and turned again to leave.
Her voice came out softer than she intended.“And what do you believe in, Jami?”
He looked back over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
The door closed quietly behind him.
Carlene stood there for a long time, staring at the empty space he’d left behind, the faint aroma of coffee and cedar still hanging in the air.
When she finally sat again, she opened her laptop and clicked on a blank document.
