Page 64 of Only Lovers in the Building

“When did you become so wise?” Kylie teased her. “It seems like only yesterday you moved in with a vlogging camera and a dream.”

“Maybe you should host the podcast,” Lily said.

Sierra slammed down her cup of prosecco. “Are you telling me you have a legit offer to host a podcast, and you’re turning it down?”

“Not a legit offer,” Ben said. “A text. It means nothing still.”

“We’re flattered, obviously,” Lily said.

“Forget flattered,” Sierra said. “You should be interested. Get your social media manager on that text.”

“I don’t have one of those,” Lily said. “I’m a lawyer.”

“I’d hold your hand to say this, but you’re grown-up,” Sierra said. “No one cares. Do you know how much money successful podcast babes make? I would jump on that.”

The more the idea took shape, the less Lily was inclined to accept. “It’s a cool offer, but a silly idea. I love to read and to share that love on social media—and with you guys—but that’s as far as it ought to go. I’m not making a career out of it. Ben is right. We’re professionals. It would only distract us from everything else we’ve got going on and likely be a lot of work. Ben still hasn’t figured out how to apply his grant, and when would I find time to study Spanish? I’d like to return home with some marketable skills.”

“Wow,” Sierra said.

“I’m a chef, and that was a word salad,” Kylie said.

Noah rolled his eyes and sipped his wine.

Ben reached for his phone and dialed a number. “Allison, it’s Ben. So you’re serious? You’d have to get in touch with my agent to make it happen. On our end, we’d request total creative freedom. Okay? Okay. Let’s start there. We’ll wait for your call.”

When he set the phone down, everyone started talking at the same time.

Lily: “Ben, why?”

Sierra: “That’s a boss!”

Noah: “Mec!”

Kylie: “I need another drink!”

Lily: “Why?”

“Because why the fuck not?” Ben said. “I was wrong. Our careers are fine. They’ll survive this summer.”

“Are you sure?”

He covered Lily’s hand with his. “It’s just a call. If we don’t like the terms, we’ll walk away.”

Sierra scoffed. “You people are soft! I’m twenty-two. How is it that I’m the most business-savvy person here? If I didn’t make the most of every opportunity that came my way, I’d still be stuck in Tallahassee working at some outlet mall.”

“She’s right,” Kylie said. “A friend of mine, a chef, was stagnant. His career was going nowhere until he started a podcast. Now he has a book deal and merch. You just never know. The exposure alone is worth it.”

Lily glanced at the others . . . at Ben . . . at his hand over hers on the glossy bar. “All right,” she said. “Why not?”

She was going to make the most of this summer if it killed her.

Everyone cheered. Ben lined up flutes and uncorked another bottle of prosecco. They toasted to the podcast and the books that made it possible.

Chapter Eighteen

The Total Package

The Italian architect, French baker, American rancher, rock star, and prince of some imaginary kingdom—what do they have in common, aside from their height and their sun-kissed skin? These are the romantic leads, the heroes, in novels written by women.