Page 113 of Off the Mark
It might have been new, but I didn’t have another word to describe that our argument had left me feeling hopeless and out of sorts—and that was on top of my genuine panic over my loss of income. But everything Rowan had said last night kept spinning through my thoughts, one of themanyreasons I’d spent it tossing and turning.
It was like we were polite acquaintances at best. It put all this space between us instead of bringing us closer.
I hadn’t been lying about needing to be alone after realizing what was gonna happen to me and my dad. I needed to sit with the news and process, needed to put a plan together so that when I called him, I’d have ideas and solutions.
I also needed a good old-fashioned rage-cry.
Which I did, and it helped, but then after a few hours, I missed Rowan. Was too much of a coward to pick up the phone and say, “I’m sorry I pushed you away again.”
If our argument was any indication, we still didn’t fully trust each other. Andthatwas a whole other complicated knot to untangle if we wanted to move forward.
“It’s new because I don’t usually like guys the way I like Rowan,” I admitted.
Dempsey studied me over her coffee. “I noticed. He’s the real deal, isn’t he?”
I nodded. “He had me over a few days ago to meet his grandmother for the first time, and I got so nervous I brought her, like, seven bouquets.”
Dempsey’s expression was kind, but there was a subtle sharpness to the tilt of her chin. “You know what’s interesting? In the beginning, before I met him, I’d been thinking that your new, PR-friendly boyfriend was a tad…convenient. Timing-wise, that is.”
We entered a mini stare-off—with me trying to project wide-eyed innocence.
And failing horribly.
After thirty seconds, I dropped my head in my hands, too tired to keep up the lie.
“Please don’t hate me,” I mumbled, then lifted my head, “I thought it might help, given how disastrous the situation was. The thing is, the two of us dating was fiction, but the rest of it—the back story, how we met, our long friendship—was true. Until it got slightlycomplicatedwhen all the pretend stopped being pretend.”
“How long ago was that?” she asked.
I blew my bangs to the side. “I don’t know. Five days ago?”
“Huh.” Her smile was secretive. “I would have said way earlier than that based on how you acted around each other. Though I’m guessing that’s the complicated part.”
I dropped my gaze, fiddled with my coffee. “We’ve cared about each other for some time. Cared very deeply. And I knew that going in but didn’t want to admit how many years I’d been pining for Rowan without realizing it.”
I paused and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Dempsey. You’re my agent but more importantly, you’re my friend and I lied to you. It was not one of my better ideas, and now here I am, still about to lose my sponsor, having dragged Rowan into a whole mess.” I reached for her hand and took it. “I should have told you the truth. Asked for help. Something I’m apparently pretty bad at doing.”
“Yes, you should have asked for help,” she said simply. “Iamyour agent and amextremely talented, babe. I’ve got your back even when you piss me off and get your picture taken drunk off your ass. And I know why you did it, why you’d do anything for Malcolm. But it’s worth noting that youdidask for help. You asked Rowan. Not me, not your dad or Penny. You’re better at it than you think. The fact that you chose him is why he’s so special.”
It's always been different between us.
I dropped my chin into my hand. “You’re right. You always are.”
“You should tell me everything so I can fix it before it becomes a problem, okay?” She glanced past my shoulder and grimaced. “Shit, the Bettencourt rep just got out of a cab. What do you want me to do?”
I shrugged, completely unsure. “I need money. A lot of it. But I haven’t thought past panic mode, to be honest. What do you think my best option is?”
She passed a hand over her shaved head. “I can negotiate, see if I can’t wiggle out some extra cash in your last check. We can also go all-out on trying to get them to keep you. I’m not sure I can work any miracles over coffee, but if it’s what you want, I’ll hunt them down at their offices in New York until they give me the right answer.”
I glanced behind me and spotted the guy. My stomach twisted with that same unease I’d felt since the day I signed. The unease Rowan had pointed out the day I’d gotten second place—maybe it’s trying to tell you something.
“Tell me the truth. Is their sanitized, ‘family-friendly’ image being used to hide how ugly they are?”
Dempsey chewed this over for a few seconds—which was already a red flag. “You shouldn’t have to tie yourself to a place that doesn’t celebrate who you are. Or tie yourself to a place where your public image is so heavily scrutinized in such a hypocritical way. And I’m not talking about them being angry at those pictures of you drunk at the bar. Evenexceptionalsponsors wouldn’t be happy about that. But if they’re serious about pulling the plug because you were outspoken and put a man in his place for being a dick…”
She trailed off, and I sensed that the rep was close behind me. Dempsey was standing and re-buttoning her jacket, pasting a fake smile onto her face. “How can you trust they won’t do it the next time you stand up for yourself? The next time you use your voice, and they claim you’re ‘combative’?”
She finished speaking just as the rep arrived—a flashy-looking man in his mid-thirties with an expensive suit and a cunning, blue-eyed gaze behind his glasses.
