When I reach the end, I set my phone on my nightstand.
“I’ve never had a real job. Is it a good deal? It seems like a good deal,” Ever asks, and he’s so sincere it makes me laugh.
“What do you mean you’ve never had a real job? I beg to differ. You’re a fucking rock star; that’s a real job.”
“You know what I mean. I’ve never had a traditional job, how’s that?” he corrects.
“Better. Yeah, this is dream deal territory,” I answer honestly.
“If it’s that good, it’s a no-brainer, right?”
I roll on my side so I can look at him, and he does the same.
“Let’s say I take it. The pros are?” I ask.
“That.” He points at my phone.
“Sure, the money would be nice. Lo and I wouldn’t have to worry about rent. I could buy a newer car because mine’s always in the shop, and I could put more money in Benji’s college fund.”
“You set up a college fund for Benji?” Ever asks.
“I opened it when he was a baby. There’s about thirty grand in it now. I’m hoping by the time he graduates, there’s enough to pay for an in-state public university. I don’t want him to have to take out loans or for Lo to worry about paying for it.”
“You have a good heart, Soph.”
I tuck my arm under the pillow and snuggle my head in. “Benji deserves it. If anyone has a good heart, it’s him. Lo always says he’s a cross between Taylor Swift and Keanu Reeves. She’s right.”
He cracks a small smile to agree.
“And the cons?” I ask.
“I see a few, but they’re just me being selfish.”
Taking his hand, I thread my fingers with his. “Being away from you is at the top of the con list. Then there’s the frequent travel. I’m still not in love with the magic of flight. I’d also be immersed in the corporate world again, and that feels claustrophobic as hell because I’ve had a taste of the alternative. The hours would be really long, and the stress would be doubled. Because here’s the thing, I’d be thinking about you and what you’re going through the whole time. You know me, I’d want to hear all about your day, and the minute you said something was wrong, I’d jump in and want to fix it. I am who I am—I can’t change that. So, I’d basically be doing two jobs.”
He squeezes my hand. “Same. Back when we were only talking through DMs and you told me about your old boss, you have no idea how badly I wanted to look him up, drive to his house, and tell him what a piece of shit he is.”
“Would you have done like the guy inChristmas Vacationdid when he screwed Clark out of his bonus and brought him back to my house, gagged and ready to apologize?” I tease.
He laughs a little. “Nothing less for you.”
“Pros of sticking with my current gig?” I ask.
He points at his face with his free hand.
“Given,” I answer with a smile.
“I know I need to put together a contract for you and Thicker Than Water does too. I’ve already talked to Ms. Banks about that. But I’d like to pay you a salary to act as my manager for residual Treachery’s Riot work, and then we can work out your Thicker Than Water pay based on a percentage of any contracts we sign to begin with and then a salary in addition after there’s steady revenue and/or an advance, which could be as late as mid-next year. You’d have freedom to be creative within your role, because I trust you, obviously. And I think you shouldkeep doing photography as another creative outlet and revenue stream. You’re so damned gifted; it would be a crime to waste it. On a personal note, I’ll cover our living expenses: housing, food, travel, etc. If all goes to plan, we’ll tour and you’ll get to see the world. I know you’re not a fan of planes, so maybe that goes on the con list?”
“Planes don’t suck as much when you’re on them with me,” I concede.
“What about the cons?” He pauses and then lists his, “It’s a lot of fucking work, and headaches, and stress, as you already know. You live the job. I can match this other offer’s pay at first, but if Jess and I can make this thing work, since I think a contract is a sure thing after talking to Scout last night, it would be a lot more. Full disclosure, my last manager made seven figures off me every year. And he did fuck all.”
My eyes bulge. “You’re kidding?”
He shakes his head.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” When the words are out of my mouth, I want to take them back.
