Page 96 of Thirsty
There were frowns among the group. “Well,Ilike it,” Gray said, “but—”
“Not lupines like wolves,” Lorenzo said. “The purple flower. The Lupines.”
“Works for me,” Roberta said. She lifted her glass. “The Lupines.”
The rest of them toasted. From the back of the room, Maggie smiled at him sadly.
Chapter 30
Eventually, Charlie started reading his emails again. A few days later he video called Ava. “Hey stranger,” she greeted him, looking happy and a bit surprised. She was at home, in her Brooklyn brownstone. “Thanks for taking the call.”
“Is this real?” he asked her. She snorted.
Apparently, while Charlie’s life had been crashing and burning,Wise Old Cronehad been doing so well that Advance Media had bumpeduptheir initial offer. Just as Ava had predicted, they wanted to buy Charlie’s column, along with Charlie and Ava to run it. They’d have much more editorial control and the kind of money he’d thought was a typo at first. It was in every way his dream job.
“Yes, it’s real,” she said, beaming. “And you deserve it. Congratulations, Charlie!”
“Thanks.”
She sat forward, her forehead filling up the screen. “Thanks? That’s all the reaction I get? I thought you’d at least scream, or throw up, or something.”
He tried to smile. “It is a lot of money.”
“Yeah,” Ava said, looking increasingly concerned. “It is.” When Charlie didn’t respond, she said, “Okay, what’s wrong?”
He rubbed his face with his hands. He hadn’t showered in days, and he was suddenly regretting taking this call in the first place. “Uh, nothing. I met someone while I was living here,” he said. “And it...it didn’t work out.”
“Oh,” Ava said softly. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay, well,” she said, “let’s sublimate the heartache by focusing on work. Like, talking about this amazing deal!”
Charlie rubbed his eyes. He felt numb. “You’re sure it’s real?”
She laughed again. “Yes, and I think we should move quickly. You’re overdue with yourCronecolumns, and I want to close this thing before we get any pushback from management here.”
“Right,” he said, more out of muscle memory than anything else.
In his peripheral vision, he could see Ava staring at him through the screen, trying to puzzle him out. “You and me running the whole thing,” she said. “It’s going to be amazing. Independence, status, and—y’know, the money.”
He sighed. “I don’t know, Ava.”
“You don’t know what?” she asked. “Do you want to counter? Are you worried about their ownership of your work—”
“No,” he said, “I don’t know if I want to do this anymore.”
“This,” she asked, “like...write?”
He put his head in his hands, feeling like he was collapsing inward. “I don’t know.”
“Charlie, babe,” Ava said softly, “I’m sorry for what you’re going through right now, but that’s nuts! You’re a great writer. Look at what you’ve accomplished! You took what theydid to you—and you thrived.Wise Old Croneis doing better than ever! You’re a total Cinderella story!”
“So I should be proud of this?” he asked sharply.
