“I assumed that would be acceptable.”
“It is,” he said quickly. “It just means I wouldn’t be able to start right away.”
“I’m well aware. We will continue to make due until you’re able to begin.”
He looked relieved. “My internship runs another few weeks, and I can’t start here before that finishes.”
“That’s expected,” I told him, before moving on to the next subject. “You should also be aware that the compensation you receive here will reflect the scope of responsibility.”
His fingers twisted together in his lap. “Okay.”
I named the number.
He stared dumbfoundedly at me.
“No—” He then stopped, shook his head, and laughed under his breath in a way that suggested he thought I might be testing him. “That’s triple the salary I’d make if I stayed at the aquarium.”
“I’m not seeing the problem.”
“It’s just that… That’s just—”
I frowned. “Usually people like being paid more.”
“It’s not that I don’t,” he said quickly, his hands lifting in a small defensive motion before settling again in his lap, fingers still loosely tangled together like he hadn’t decided what to do with them yet. “It’s just… I didn’t expect something like that.”
“That number reflects the scale of the responsibility,” I replied. “Not your expectations.”
He watched me carefully when I said that, as though trying to determine whether there was something hidden beneath the statement that he had missed.
There was not.
“It also reflects the degree of discretion I require,” I added after a moment, thinking that could potentially help him understand. “I’m a very private person, Cove. And private people tend to pay more to ensure that privacy.”
“Oh,” he said quietly, nodding slowly to himself, seemingly absorbing that explanation. “I guess that makes sense.”
We sat for a moment after that, the ocean moving steadily beyond the glass while Cove adjusted, recalibrated, and reorganized the shape of his future around what I had just offered him.
He knew he’d be stupid to refuse.
Still looking out the window, he murmured, “I really am grateful for this.”
“I’m aware,” I answered, to which he smiled softly.
I continued before he could redirect the conversation elsewhere.
“There are several administrative steps that must be completed before your start date,” I said. “A background check will be required for security clearance, and you’ll also be issued credentials for the gate and internal access systems.”
“Okay.”
“And,” I continued, “you should begin considering which guest room you’d prefer.”
He froze, a look of confusion spreading across his features. “What..?”
“The guest rooms,” I repeated. “There are several available. You may choose whichever—”
“I can’t live here.”
The interruption came with such certainty that I stopped speaking.
