“Her name’s Cordelia, and she’s the co-owner of the agency.”
“Well, she’s awful, and she’s enough of a reason for you to quit.”
“I can’t quit, Chase,” he says, now sounding exasperated. He pulls back again but doesn’t go far this time.
The way he looks up at me, open but already drifting away somehow.
It makes me blurt out something that I probably should keep quiet.
“It just doesn’t seem like a great situation to me. You have to consider that I’ll be your client whether you work for them or not, and from the little I know you...” I pause to tap the tip of his nose, which scrunches up adorably at the contact. “Your other clients would probably say the same thing if you’re as diligent with them as you’ve been with me. I haven’t even formally signed on and you’ve already gone above and beyond for me. I don’t believe for a second I’m the only one you’ve done that for.”
He hums in response, almost like he’s actually considering it, but then he lowers his gaze and his shoulders drop with a heavy sigh.
“There’s no way I could make it work with five clients, Chase. I’m sorry but there’s really no way that we?—”
“What if I invest in your agency?”
There it is.
That thing I shouldn’t have said, and yet...
Of course Noah takes two full steps back this time, looking up at me with his mouth open and eyes harder than I’ve ever seen them.
It’s a bit unnatural.
I regret everything immediately, but also not.
Because . . . that’s actually not a bad idea.
Knowing firsthand what it’s like to have Noah as my agent, I know what he’s capable of, and that’s even before we’ve gotten to negotiate contracts with publishing houses.
I need to do some research on profit margins, industry growth expectancy, maybe some quick interviews with other agencies or even authors.
“That’snothappening,” Noah says, bringing me back to the present where I royally fucked up. “You can’t just offer that up to someone, Chase!” he whisper-shouts. “Especially not someone who you’ve shared only one kiss with. Jesus!”
“Okay, let’s get one thing straight.” I’ve had enough of this. “You can be mad all you want about me offering to invest in you and your future, but no more of thisonly, andflingbullshit, okay? I understand this is new,of courseI do, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be serious. I’m taking this seriously. I want a committed relationship with you. If things work out. In the near future.”
It doesn’t come out as smooth as I’d have liked, but at least it gets Noah to snap out of that mindset.
“Monogamy would be new, but I suppose I’ll try anything once,” I add lamely.
For a moment neither of us moves or talks.
We simply stand awkwardly in the silence following that confession.
“You’ve never been one to have relationships,” he says after a minute.
I sigh.
“I get it, there’s no social proof that I’d be a good partner or whatever, but I wasn’t going to start a relationship just because. For me it’s always been about doing things the right way and for the right reasons. I think I’ve lived a pretty good life with that mindset, and though yes, I have been feeling the need to find a life partner more keenly in the past year orso, it wasn’t until I sawyouat that damn bachelor party that I took the thought seriously.”
My chest heaves as the last word echoes in the big library.
“Okay, okay,” he says placatingly, once again holding a hand up. “I doubt we’ll get anywhere if we start this conversation.”
I disagree but he won’t let me get in a word.
“So we’re going to finalize this idea of what you’d do if you lost all your money. We’ll work on it for today, and I’m leaving tonight.” He brings his other hand up as well when I open my mouth to protest. “First, because I feel like you’re the one who’s going to write this, not a ghostwriter, which means you’ll need some serious focus time. And second, because I need to think about...” He waves an arm in a wide circle. “All of this, and there’s no way I can do that here.”