My jaw drops.
“I could give you cash, if that’s what you’d prefer. But I recommend putting the excess money in a high-yield savings account. Also, you will be provided with travel, luxury room and board, any and all incidentals, per diem, and a substantial wardrobe.”
I lean forward. “Go on…”
“And…” He shifts around in the chair. There’s something he’s been keeping up his sleeve, and here it comes. He clears his throat, unable to curb his grin. That smug, cocky grin. “And as a major donor to the Bay Area Ballet, I would be happy to speak to the appropriate people to ensure that you will be featured next season.”
Whuck?
“You’re a donor? Since when?”
“My company is. Since last year.”
No wonder I didn’t see his name on the donor list. “Wait. Last year? You mean since I started there?”
“It did coincide with your employment there, sure. I’ve dined with Louisa and been to a cocktail party at her house.”
Louisa Boehmer is the artistic director of the Bay Area Ballet. She’s a retired principal dancer and a phenomenal choreographer. I worship her, even though she is not immune to the politics of art and commerce. No one is, apparently.
Apparently, not even me…
“I’m friendly with several board members. Well. Not friendly, but you know what I mean.” He looks at me very seriously. “You should be the Sugar Plum Fairy inThe Nutcrackerthis year. You’d be perfect. It’s a great part for you, is it not? I intend to tell them so when I hand them the next check.”
“Uh, you are correct about that, sir. It is a fantastic part for me,” I say. “I thought you didn’t approve of my career choice.”
“Things have changed.”
“How so?”
“I’vechanged. My perspective on things has changed,” he says. “I wish to support your endeavors in any way that I can.”
“Well. My endeavors would be grateful for your support in many ways…”
“Good. I’ve made a lot of money, Olivia. And I know everyone says they want to make the world a better place, but I do especially intend to make the world a better place for the people I care about, and that includes you.”
Am I going to become the character in the dance movie who gets a hot sugar daddy and learns to overcome her stubbornness while learningshe’sthe one who’s been limiting herself all along?CouldI? Shit.
I cover my heart with my hand, even though I find myself saying, “Thank you, Johnny. I appreciate it, I do. But I don’t know if I can?—”
“You’re used to working hard for your income. I understand.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to be featured—of course I do. I just… I don’t feel comfortable relying on someone else to justgiveme money. I pride myself on being a resourceful moneymaker too, you know. I need my own source of income.”
He nods, as if he expected this. “I understand. How about this? Monty also told me about your YouTube situation.”
“He did?”
“Well, he told me the gist of it based on what your mom told him, and I filled in the blanks. You were making almost two thousand a month, finally getting ahead with your student-loan payments and savings. Then an ad for a certain brand of dancewear came up before one of your videos—with under one hundred thousand followers, you can’t control which ads come up—and brand conflict was cited because the company has a deal with another brand. One of your competitors at the company was jealous…blah, blah, blah. It’s bullshit.”
“Right?! Thank you!”
“However, it’s not the worst thing in the world. Honestly, in a world where so much trauma occurs, it’s barely an inconvenience. But it is bullshit, and it would be better for you if it hadn’t happened, and I’m sorry it happened. We all have to deal with these kinds of things in business. It’s just a matter of reframing and pivoting. You are the CEO of your life. You have other options.”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Great. Thanks.”
“Why are you rolling your eyes at me?”
“Force of habit.”
