I consider it, then shrug and find my phone in my bag. I don’t expect this guy to really get it, let alone care, but I show him the videos for the hell of it.
“My mountain man taught me to do that,” I say when a wood-chopping interlude flies across the screen. “Chase. He’s amazing.”
The man looks up. His lips are slightly pursed, like he just ate something and can’t tell yet if it was bad.
Not a fan, I guess.
“Well,” I say, grabbing the phone back. “That’s my story.”
I look back over the pool, and something about the moment hits me.
I don’t want this. Not really. I still want to do my work, and I think people like Jules the Himbo are amazing and inspiring, but I don’t want to spend all my time at parties like this one. I don’t want palm trees and social climbing and guys in speedos who judge my videos.
I want Chase. I want that place that already feels like home.
I want us.
It’s not a failure to admit that. I don’t have to abandon my dreams. My dreams just need to grow to include Chase and the life we’re going to make together, because there is no way in hell I am letting my mountain man get away.
The man clears his throat loudly, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re very good,” he says, studying me. “You’ve got the spark.”
I’m caught off guard, certain I must have misheard him. “Spark?”
“I’m Rex, Jules’s agent.” He fumbles around beneath the chair, then hands me a business card. “Your ideas are fresh. I don’t usually take on new clients, but have you considered representation?”
