Page 147 of Fake As Puck
“Thank you for the grand gesture.”
We’re being overly polite, dancing around the fact that in a few hours I’ll be on a plane back to LA and he’ll be back to Seattle, and we’ll be starting this long-distance thing we’ve committed to.
“I have something to tell you,” I say as we’re finishing our coffee.
“Tell me.”
“I got an email this morning. A freelance offer. It’s big. It’s two months of work, August and September, really good money, excellent exposure.”
“That’s great,” he says, but I can hear the careful tone in his voice. “What kind of work?”
“Same as what I’m doing. Content strategy for another fashion brand’s fall campaign. It would mean traveling, attending fashion shows, working with influencers. It’s exactly the kind of opportunity I’ve been hoping for.”
“That sounds perfect for you.”
“It is perfect for me.”
“But?”
“But it’s also two months where I’d be completely unavailable. Working eighteen-hour days, traveling constantly, no time for anything else.”
“Including us.”
“Including us.”
He’s quiet for a moment, staring into his coffee cup.
“When do they need an answer?” he asks.
“End of the week.”
“And you want to take it.”
“I want to take it. I need to take it. This could change everything for my career.”
“Then you should take it.”
“West—”
“No, I’m serious. You should absolutely take it. You’re moving in, right? I’ll be busy with hockey. Once the season starts, babe, you won’t be seeing much of me anyway. So, take it. We’ll figure out our schedules. And luckily phones were invented.”
“It’s the best invention ever.”
“Or the worst,” he says, “depending on how you look at it.”
I smile. “True.”
We take a few bites of our food.
“Okay, I’m taking the job.”
He smiles. “Congratulations.”
“And we’re going to figure out how to do this long-distance thing.”
“We are.”
“I love you,” I say, reaching across the table to take his hand.
