“Nell. I’m an agent. Art would be new to me, but I could represent you. You don’t need to resort to working with that guy. He’s—”

  “Is that what this is about? At least before I thought you were jealous because you liked me. So, which is it, you like me? Or you like the idea of taking advantage of—” I looked toward the giant, penis bush and almost laughed despite everything. “You know, I’m not even going to get mad about it. I’m just done. So thank you, seriously, for everything. I wouldn’t have had this opportunity if you hadn’t. But as far as everything else goes? I’ve got to look out for myself and take advantage of this opportunity, no matter how ridiculous it is.”

  “Nell. Wait—”

  I waved over my shoulder and left before he could say more.

  Once I got into my car, I laid my head on the steering wheel and groaned in annoyance. I knew I'd been unfair. I could've at least let Harry try to explain himself without cutting him off, but that was also precisely what I'd always let Chuck do. I'd let him talk until he was blue in the face, until he could wear me down and convince me everything had just been some huge mix-up, that it would never happen again. Being a little unfair was a small price to pay. I didn't want to let another Chuck into my life. I could handle the failures I seemed to attract like a magnet, but I couldn't give up on my self-respect. If I respected myself, I'd do every last thing in my power to avoid a guy who wanted me for the wrong reasons.

  I pulled out the card Damian had given me and chewed my lip. I wondered what Harry could possibly know about the guy that would make me want to steer clear. What Damian said had made sense. I knew nothing about the art world, and if anyone could find a way to screw this up, it was me. I did need his help. But what was with all the unspoken tension between the two of them? Had they fought over the same girl in the past? Was this just a power play by Damian to steal me out from under Harry? I decided I didn’t care what it was. I needed an agent. Damian was an agent. I had no romantic interest in the guy, and it was that simple.

  I looked toward the party one last time. I saw the silhouette of a tall, broad man standing on the driveway. I was almost positive it was Harry, and I was sure he saw me. But why wasn’t he coming closer? Chuck would’ve been yanking on the door handle by now. He’d pull me out of the car by my arm and scold me for embarrassing him. So why was Harry just standing there?

  I almost got out of the car and went to talk, just to explain why the way he acted had been such a big deal to me. Except that’s what the old me would’ve done. She would go out there and try to fix everything. As much as I wanted to know what was going through Harry’s head, I couldn’t let myself get out of the car, because I knew my resolve would break.

  8

  HARRY

  I closed the folder on my desk and slid it across to Hailey Chamberson. “That’s everything you asked for. Release date, promotion dates, potential secondary contracts, and what we’re doing to pursue them.”

  Hailey smiled. “Thank you. I’m sorry to be so needy. I’m honestly just so excited about this whole book thing. I want to know every little detail.”

  William was standing in the corner of the room with his arms crossed. Hailey got up to leave, but William nodded for her to go on without him.

  Great, I thought. The last thing I needed right now was alone time with William Chamberson. I’d always been bigger than most people, so it was unusual for a man to be my physical match. William was at least as tall as me, even if he was built a little leaner.

  The door closed, and William walked up to my desk, planting his hands on the wood. I had the urge to stand up. William was somebody I considered a friend, but we hadn’t known each other for very long. My brother’s wife was friends with a friend of Williams, which had eventually led to Hailey asking me to represent the launch of her book.

  “You know if you screw this launch up,” William said. “We’re going to have a problem.”

  I knew William well enough that I shouldn’t have let his comment offend me. Normally, I would’ve smiled it off. Except I still felt sour and bitter after everything that happened with Nell last night. The more I thought about how I’d left things, the more I felt like an idiot who had tried to hold on to a fistful of sand by squeezing tighter.

  I met William’s eyes. “If I screw up the launch of her book, it’ll be the first time I’ve screwed up a book’s launch in years.”

  William’s serious expression melted into his usual, laid-back smile. “I was going to keep taunting you for fun, but… You look like somebody just told you bananas are going extinct. Do you want to open up, or should I employ persuasion tactics to get it out of you??”

  “Bananas are… what? Are you making that up?”

  William gave me a smug little shrug. “Guess you won’t know until you look it up. But I know somebody who is going to be super pissed if it’s true.”

  “Do you have a point you were planning on making?”

  “Just that I’m an easy guy to talk to if something’s on your mind. Oh, and that people should stop taking things like bananas for granted. You never know when they could disappear.”

  “Right… You’re a lot of things, but I don’t know if easy to talk to is one of them.”

  "Ouch," William said. "Well, your choice is to spit out what's wrong, or I'm going to start guessing. I'm not going to stop until you tell me I've got it, and I'll warn you—I'm a shitty guesser, so this could take a while."

  I leaned back in my chair and glared at him.

  “Have it your way,” he said. William started to pace around the room while stroking his chin theatrically. “You were actually born to a convent of nuns, but you had a sex change and escaped years ago. Now they’ve found you, and they’re coming for your penis? Pun intended,” he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

  “That’s…” I closed my mouth and shook my head. “What kind of person even comes up with something like that?”

  “No? Okay, I got it. Hold on. You witnessed an alien abduction when you were a kid. Up until yesterday, you thought it was all just some weird dream induced by the aggressive case of chronic diarrhea you suffered from—and still suffer from to this day. But yesterday, those little green men came back, and now your world is shaken. Why? Because you’ve secretly harbored romantic feelings for them this whole time, and now you’ll have to face your budding sexuality for the first time.”

  “Are you seriously going to keep this up unless I tell you?”

  "Hmm. Not right, either? Okay, this time I really have it. It all started in the African jungles seven years ago when you found yourself trapped deep in the wrinkly clutches of an elephant's rectum. With no hope of escape, you realized the only choice you had was to go deeper. Only you went too deep. You dreamed too big, and now you can't—"

  “I give up,” I said. “I’ll tell you because I don’t think I can survive much more of this. I’ve been in a little bit of a dating rut for the past couple years, and—”

  “Let me stop you there, partner.” William held up his left hand and pointed to his wedding band. “I’m flattered. Really. But one, I have a strict no sword crossing rule. And two? I’m spoken for.”

  “Are you finished?”

  He took a second to think about that, then shrugged.

  “I invited this girl to a party last night. An old… acquaintance of mine ended up offering to represent her. Except he’s a piece of shit, who uses his job like a pick-up service. All he cares about is sleeping with his clients and employees. His father is also one of the most powerful men in the industry, and he could ruin my career if he wanted. He actually took the opportunity to remind me of that fact, too. He said if I so much as breathed a word of the truth to her, he’d ruin me, and everything I’d ever touched.”

  “Can I guess again?”

  “Is it going to matter if I say ‘no’?”

  William resumed pacing the room. He stopped and pointed at me. “Got it. Instead of doing the logical thing, which would be explaining to her why she shouldn’t work with this goon, you just vaguely implied she shouldn’t. In the process, you looked like a jealous asshole.”

  I sighed. “Not exactly. I just didn’t get to the point fast enough. She cut me off and stormed away from the party. Now she wants nothing to do with me, and after having some time to think it over, I’m not sure I can tell her the truth. I was ready to last night, but shit. It’s not just my ass on the line, here. Your wife, my brother… everybody I represent. Besides, she made her choice, and I need to respect that.”

  “I may not know you that well, but you remind me a little of my brother. Not as bad as him, obviously, but a little. You know what Bruce’s problem was? He nearly let the best thing that ever happened to him slip by because he was too worried about how it could go wrong. Just something to think about. And I’ve got Hailey’s back. If needle dick comes after her, he’s going to realize real fast that his daddy’s big, scary dick in the publishing world is nothing compared to my big, scary dick.”

  I squinted at William. “What?”

  William cleared his throat. "Yeah. That didn't come out exactly how I intended. The point is not to worry about Hailey. You do what you have to do."

  "I'm not worried. I'm realistic. I screwed up, and I blew my chance."

  “All I’m saying is you’re making a classic mistake. It’s a simple misunderstanding. You find a way to explain to her why you were acting that way, and who knows, she might forgive you.”

  I sighed. "Thank you, William. I think if I dig through the stupid, you actually make some good points. Except the truth is going to be a lot less convincing now that I've waited this long. It's going to look like I made it up because I'm jealous. And it's not quite the classic mistake. The reason I can't explain the misunderstanding is that a narcissistic daddy's boy is threatening to destroy me if I do."

  “You know the funny thing about truth is that it’s like raw chicken. You can hide it. You can freeze it. You can bury it, but eventually, that shit starts to smell. Bad. One day the power will go out, and that frozen, nasty ass chicken will stink up the house. Your girl will come home and want to know what the hell is with that stench. And you’ll be standing there like an idiot, twiddling your thumbs, saying you just didn’t get around to putting it in the trashcan when you should’ve, five years ago.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “The truth is like raw chicken…”

  William looked impatient. “You’re stuck on that part? I thought you were supposed to be a smart guy.”

  “I get it, I just…” I sighed. “I think I’m just offended that what you’re saying makes sense. Kind of.”

  “Yeah,” William said. “I get that a lot. Anyway. Throw that chicken out, or it’s going to stink. I promise you that.” He winked, then left, closing the door behind him.

  I tapped my fingers on my desk in annoyance and started toward my door. I hated to admit it, but William’s words kept ringing in my head—the idea of getting so fixated on what could go wrong that I could let something good pass me by. He also had a point about hiding the truth from Nell. Except, I could only see two outcomes. One was telling her the truth too soon and looking like the jealous asshole she already assumed I was. That path almost surely would be the end of my chances with her, if I still had any left. The other option was holding the truth back until the right time—only as long as it took to regain her trust enough to survive the backlash from the truth.

  Damn it. I’d never made a habit of doing stupid things, but I had a feeling I was about to set out on a path that was lined with stupid decision after stupid decision. I straightened my tie and got up to leave.

  9

  NELL

  I met Damian at his offices in downtown New York. I’d been expecting an art agent to work in some dingy, small building. Instead, I found myself looking out the windows of a skyscraper that had amazing views of the city. The decorations were very modern and… artsy. There was a giant, metallic jelly bean by the elevators, a hanging arrangement of something that looked like ramen noodles, and countless eye-catching pictures on the walls, one of which appeared to be a vagina that was also a doorway to another dimension full of vagina-shaped galaxies.

  Apparently, my big green penis was right up the art world’s alley—like the perfectly shaped key to open all the vagina doors in this business. How poetic.

  I felt a slight pang of sadness to actually be in a place like this under the circumstance. I thought back to that day in high school, when my art teacher had almost thoroughly convinced me to give up that particular dream. I'd still guiltily held a fragment of it inside, like a little ember that I was careful not to let it catch and grow into a flame. It was a silly, stupid dream, but it was the one I'd never completely let go of.

  And now I was here, except it was because of a fluke instead of somebody actually appreciating my art.

  The room itself was extremely open, which let me immediately see that Damian only shared the floor with a couple of other people. Judging from the way his glass-walled office was tucked in the corner and everybody else was scattered across the open space at white desks, I assumed Damian was in charge here. That was also a slight surprise. I'd been expecting him to be one of many people manning a desk, maybe in a cubicle.

  He came out to greet me a few moments after I left the elevator. He reached to shake my hand softly but cupped it in both of his big hands and smiled warmly. “Nell. I’m so glad you decided to come.”

  “Thanks,” I said a little sheepishly. “Me too.” In reality, I hoped I’d be glad that I came. The jury was still out on that one. All I knew was that my little blow up last night had probably cost me my shot with Harry. I just needed to make sure I remembered that it was likely for the best. Even if Harry was an upgrade on Chuck in the looks, personality, and money departments, I needed another jealous boyfriend in my life like I needed a pair of testicles. For the record, testicles seemed to require way too much adjustment and scratching to be worth all the hype, so, no, I did not need them.

  I also needed to remember that Ashley’s future was more important than some romantic fling I might be missing out on. I could do this, if not for me, then for her.

  “Come on, we can talk in my office.”

  I caught the brief look he threw to the rest of the floor, where his staff—predominantly young, pretty women—were shooting me death glares. That made the second time in two days that I’d suffered from a group glare. Once had been at Harry’s party when every woman there seemed to assume I was trying to seduce or manipulate him. Now here? I’d understood the party, but I thought it wasn’t a good sign if Damian’s employees were looking at me like I was competition—and maybe not in a business sense.

  He closed the door of his office. Considering the walls were completely glass, it just meant we couldn’t be overheard. Damian leaned against the front of his desk and gestured for me to take the chair that was uncomfortably close to him.

  “I know this is all really new for you,” Damian said. “But I had an idea for how we could make the transition easier.”

  “Okay,” I said. I awkwardly slid into the chair, which involved arching my back a little so I didn’t brush against his legs. Once I was in the chair, I tried to quietly scoot it back, but the metal legs made a loud, screeching noise against the floor. I cleared my throat and folded my hands in my lap.

  Damian smirked, then continued. “We’ll skip the contracts and fancy paperwork for now. How about you just let me coach you up for this gala and represent your best interests. We won’t even talk about a contract unless I get you an offer you like.”

  “Really?” I asked. “Do you do that for all your new clients?”

  “Only the pretty ones.”

  I felt myself blushing. My emotions were more than a little conflicted. I had no reason to feel like I “belonged” to Harry Barnidge in any way, but whatever was happening with Damian felt wrong. It felt like a betrayal. I wasn’t sure if the compliment was his attempt at hitting on me, or if he was just doing the typical salesman thing and trying to be charming. Whatever it was, I decided the smartest move was to show no reaction.

  “Sorry,” Damian said with an easy chuckle. “I have a bad habit of speaking before I think. Won’t happen again, I promise. This is strictly business, and I don’t need to give you any reasons to think otherwise.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Where do we start?”

  “Image,” he said. “If you were born a few hundred years ago, you could sell your art based on the art. Today, though? You’re selling the idea of yourself almost as much as the art. The bright hair is a nice touch, but I think something even bolder might work. After all, you’re the cockitecht now, and we need to convince people you’re ready to make a statement.”

  I frowned. I hadn’t expected the strategy to go in that direction. “I’m not sure I really feel comfortable changing the way I look to…” I shook my head. “I don’t know. It just seems so fake.” Then again, what had it been when I bullshitted my way through the conversation with Maya North back at the party? It wasn’t even really that different from what Harry had done to sell books for his clients. If anything, it was worse. And would I be able to look Ashley in the face and tell her I could’ve got the money to put her through school, but I was too stubborn to dye my hair?

  “You’ve got to decide how you want to tackle this,” Damian said. “It’s your choice, at the end of the day. But I will tell you this much: if success were easy, everybody would do it. You’re at the beginning of a new chapter in your life. The only thing I can guarantee you is that the fastest path to failure is choosing the path of least resistance. Easy doesn’t make winners, Nell. Winners do what it takes, especially when it’s hard.”

 

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