Fuck.
“I have conditions,” I say, cutting right to it as I slide into the seat next to Eric at the bar inside Pour, a quaint little restaurant and bar in town. It’s busy for a Wednesday night, but Eric sits alone, which surprises me. With the album and news of the tour blowing up all around us, I half expected him to be surrounded by people bugging him for selfies and autographs.
Either everyone in town has incredible manners tonight, or it all happened before I arrived.
“Hello, Ty,” he says, hiding a smile behind his glass of what looks like Coke before taking a sip. “It’s nice to see you again, too.”
“Sorry,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Hi, Eric. It’s good to see you. I have conditions.”
“Anything you want,” he replies, setting his glass down and turning in his stool to face me. His knees touch mine, but neither of us moves.
“I need my own bus,” I say, and he winces.
“Okay,almostanything you want,” he says. “We do RVs, not busses, which are around two million each. I don’t have it in the budget to get you your own, but I can agree to you having the bedroom and I’ll take one of the bunks.”
“So…we’d be alone? Together? For six months?”
He laughs. “Is that a problem?”
Yes.
“No,” I say. I was really counting on having some space between us over the duration of the tour, but if he’s not lying about what they cost, it’s not like I can offer to pay for my own RV.
I can be professional. I’ll just have to pivot and think of something else to ensure I don’t end up doing something stupid. Again.
“I also need one hundred thousand dollars up front to cover my expenses while I’m gone.”
“Done.”
Wow, andthatwas the one I’d been worried about.
I take a deep breath, ready to pivot.
“If we’re sharing an RV, under no circumstances will we be having sex.”
I study his face. Watching for any sign that he wants to negotiate the no sex thing, and a tiny part of me wants him to.I want to know that he’s been as hung up on me these last three months as I’ve been on him, but his face remains neutral.
“Fine. Anything else?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, laughing nervously. “Why are you doing this? Why…me?”
“Assuming you weren’t lying to me the night we met, you’re looking for your break. Well, here it is. People have been on me to write this thing for years, so it won’t be a hard sell. I assume it’ll go to auction and fetch well over seven figures like Josh’s did.”
It’s a good thing I’m sitting down this time, because I feel as if my world is tilting on is axis.Seven. Figures. One million dollars, at least.
“I need everything in writing,” I say.
“It’s already being drawn up. I just needed your list of demands.” He winks at me and takes another sip of his soda. He extends a hand, and I look from it to his eyes, and back again. “So, Tyler Rose Norris, do we have a deal?”
EIGHT
Eric
? Just Pretend – Bad Omens ?
The contract from my lawyer hits my inbox a month later, and I skim it, making sure Tyler’s requirements had been entered as requested, my eyes locking on one section in particular.
3. Non-Sexual Clause
