“You don’t actually have to adopt the kids. You just have to act like you’re with someone you’d think about adopting the kids with until we get you a new deal,” Astrid said. “World’s cutest Instagram romance. Maybe we can even find a party or two to show him off at or something. Introduce him to all your friends.”
I was pretty sure all the people I could genuinely call my friends knew Ward already. Astrid was talking about former colleagues.
“I mean, you’re never making another cutesy made-for-TV romantic drama where you can’t say damn or hell, but you didn’t want to do that forever anyway. This whole gay thing could really work for you, people are into that right now. You’ve already got the adorable boyfriend in place, this is perfect. We can work with this. I can work with this. This could be the thing that really launches your career.”
“But I don’t want—”
“Let me be clear,” Astrid interrupted. “This is a good plan. This is theonlyplan to stop you from looking like you’re spiraling out of control. This is the plan that keeps you on my books. You can go along with it, or we can part ways now.”
“I—”
I looked to Seth, who must’ve overheard everything, hoping for some kind of sign about what to do, some helpful wisdom from someone I trusted to think more clearly than I was right now.
He tapped his wrist.
I frowned at him, confused, until he pointed to the wall clock hanging behind me.
Time. Ask for time. Obviously.
“I need to think about it,” I said. “I can’t just—no, wait,” I added as I heard Astrid take a breath. “This is going to change my life for good either way. Give me…”
How long could I ask for to make a decision like this? I wanted maybe twenty years, but I knew I’d be lucky negotiating for more than twenty seconds.
“Until this afternoon,” I said. That was reasonable, it had to be reasonable. “That’s all I’m asking. Then you’ll have your answer.”
“Fine,” Astrid said. “You’ll hear from me.”
My phone clattered on the table as I dropped it, leaning back so I could fill my lungs again.
Dammit. Dammit dammitdammit.
“Dammit,” I said out loud, grabbing for my phone to make sure I hadn’t broken it. That would’ve been just my luck.
“Are you even allowed to say that, contractually?” Seth asked.
“Contract’s been ripped up, remember?”
My phone had survived my frustration, at least. I set it back down on the table, as far away as I could without it being out of reach. Right now, I never wanted to see it again.
“Honestly, I don’t think that’s the worst thing that could happen to you,” Seth said.
“Not you too.”
“Yeah, me too. Your agent was being harsh, but she’s right, you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life making cheap little TV movies, did you? You could do more. Or at least… something else. I know you well enough to know your heart was never in it.”
“My paycheck was in it,” I pointed out.
Seth shrugged. “Paychecks are maybe not the most important thing in the world.”
“If I fail at this then my dad was right the whole time,” I said.
“He wasn’t. You’ve already succeeded, you’vealreadyproved him wrong. This really isn’t the end of the world. And you’ve got a way out, and I think you should take it.”
I blinked at him. “You do?”
“I do.” Seth nodded. “Ward would agree to it, he’d do anything for you.”
“He’d do anything for anyone, that’s not a good reason to ask him for this.”
