Page 16 of Fierce Love
“Government grants and rich partners is the short answer,” Posey says. “I’ve also been told that Interflix is interested in possibly picking the show up for their streaming service, which would obviously be huge for Bellerive, and for us, personally.” Posey sets down her fork and takes a sip of her latte before giving me a sly smile. “Reyes and Cruz would be lucky to have you back, if you wanted to return. Rich people want famous people. They love the power of having a famous person working for them.”
She’s not wrong. A few of my colleagues are famous in certain design circles, and they never lack for wealthy clients. But the opportunity she’s dropping in my lap still feels like a huge risk. Right now, my life with Kinsley works in New York. I’d never say that it workswell, but we’re not drowning in debt, unable to eat. Kinsley hasn’t been forced to get a job just to help uskeep our heads above water. I’ve committed myself to working unsustainable hours so she doesn’t have the upbringing I did.
If the producers like me, if the show is picked up, if it somehow catches on in America… if, if, if… and if not, then I could be giving up the stable life we’ve built to chase something I don’t even want.
But I can tell from the energy vibrating off Kinsley beside me that shewantsthis chance. I don’t know if it’s the island calling to her or the carrot of a work-life balance that doesn’t exist for me right now, but she’s probably literally biting her tongue to keep from begging me to take a chance. She doesn’t understand what’s on the other side of risks that don’t pay off or pay off in ways you never anticipated and definitely didn’t want.
“How long?” I ask, swirling the last bite of my food around on my plate. “How long is filming?”
“Three to six months. We’re guaranteed six shows, but they’ll stretch it to twelve if the first few episodes test well with audiences.”
For the first time, I turn my attention to Kinsley. “You’ll be away from your friends. Formonths. You’ll have to attend high school here. You won’t know anyone.”
“I don’t care,” Kinsley says in a rush.
“We’ll have to move apartments. I can’t afford to pay rent here and there.”
“You could probably negotiate that into a contract,” Posey says. “They haven’t been able to find anyone. You’ve got the upper hand, if they like you.”
“Right,” I say, trying to digest that information. Power, any kind of power, isn’t something I’m used to holding. Normally, I’m grateful for whatever comes my way, not demanding more. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Hope shines out of Kinsley’s eyes, and I feel a twinge of guilt that leaving everything behind is preferable to returning to our life in New York.
“All you ever tell me is that ‘we can’t, we can’t, we can’t.’ But maybe wecanhere. Even if it’s just for a little while,” Kinsley says, a hint of pleading in her voice.
Her argument hits me right in the heart. While I haven’t given her the upbringing I had—financial instability, absentee parents in and out of jail—I’m suddenly uncertain about whether I’ve given her something better.We can’tis a phrase I say far too often, and most of the time, what I actually mean is thatshecan’t. That I don’t have the time to spend with her, to get her to the activities she’d like to do, the events she wants to attend.
As a kid, what I wanted more than anything was money. Money seemed like the key to happiness. Maybe that was a false desire because even though I have some money now, it never feels like enough. I don’t even know whatenoughis. But in my pursuit of it, it’s becoming crystal clear that the one thing Kinsley would do anything for is my time.
“Okay,” I say to Posey. “I’ll audition or whatever it’s called. When?”
“No time like the present,” Posey says. She grabs her phone off the table, and her fingers fly across the screen. “I’ve got two out of three producers who can meet in thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes?” I pick up my phone and I text one of my aunt’s best friends, Shannon. At the funeral, she offered to help out in any way she could, and she lives only a few blocks from my aunt’s apartment building. “I’ll have to drop Kinsley off first.”
“Drop me off?” Kinsley says, a touch of panic in her voice.
“At Shannon’s,” I say as the answering text comes through agreeing to keep Kinsley for a few hours. “Aunt Verna’s best friend. You met her at the funeral home. I’ve known her since I was a little kid. She’s good. I promise.”
“I want to stay with you,” Kinsley says.
“I need the space to concentrate,” I say, glancing at Posey, who is now talking quietly on the phone across from us. The reality is that I’m worried I’ll be pressured into saying yes on the spot if they offer the job and Kinsley is there. I need to be sure that this job, this opportunity in Bellerive, is the best one for her but also for us.
There are things on this island, people, I’d rather not face. Staying here might solve one problem, but it could create a whole host of others.
“You’ll come get me right after?” Kinsley says.
“Right after,” I say.
“We’re all set,” Posey says. “I can’t get the one producer to answer, but we’ll record the chemistry test for later viewing. Two out of three will work.” Posey slides out of the booth. “How’d you get here?”
“Public transit,” I say.
“I’ll drive,” Posey says. “Come with me. I can take you wherever you want to go.”
I just hope I end up wanting to go where both Kinsley and Posey so badly want me to end up. When faced with a sure thing or a risk, I’ve rarely been one to take the leap into the unknown.
Chapter Eight
