CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
R OBERT
“That went well,” I said a few minutes later as we walked down Gwen’s front walk after saying goodbye to her.
“I’m glad we took the time to stop and talk with her about this, and you’re right—it feels a lot better going into this with her support,” Anya replied.
She took my hand, and I marveled at how comfortable that was starting to feel, how much I enjoyed her natural warmth and the closeness of her body. I wasn’t kidding myself—I knew it was normal to feel hot and heavy with someone during the first few weeks of a relationship, during the first few days of a deeper connection, but I had also noticed there was something different about whatever was between Anya and me. She seemed to fit.
And that was something I didn’t want to ignore.
You can’t.
“Do you want to reach out to that producer?” Anya asked when we reached the car. “And I can scroll through the rest of the posts and see if there is anything else we’d like to jump on, or that we absolutely cannot refuse.”
I agreed, and we slid into my vehicle. It was still midmorning, but it was already shaping up to be a memorably humid day. I blasted the air conditioning as we spent the next few minutes working out what the next twenty-four hours would look like. Finally, Anya dialed the producer’s number and put the device on speaker once it began ringing.
“I’m kind of nervous,” she said on the third ring. “What if they’ve changed their minds?”
“They haven’t. And besides, if they did, it would be their loss and not ours.”
I grew more confident the longer this went on and the more time passed. The initial shock about starring in a viral video had subsided, and the reality about our current situation was more real now that we’d shared the news with Gwen. Anya and I were a hot property, there was no denying that, and we were regaining some of that power now.
Sunny answered just before it went to voicemail. “Look through your phone for other opportunities,” Anya whispered, right before she started talking to Sunny.
There weren’t many other decent ones that I could see. Not that we didn’t lack offers. We had plenty of those. Appearances on breakfast shows in Europe, a couple of brands begging for social media collaborations, scam offers to build websites and storefronts to capitalize on our fame, and even a few unsavory pitches from pornography companies wanting to dig deeper into the chemistry we’d shown in the video. I had to stifle my laughter when I imagined what they meant by that.
After reading about a dozen unacceptable ideas, I simply started cleaning my inbox, sliding my thumb back and forth across the screen as I got rid of every email that came even close to sounding stupid.
Want me to endorse your line of pithy T-shirts? Delete. Offer a chance to post on social media about your erectile dysfunction medication in exchange for a few thousand bucks? No way. Pitch me on your ability to increase my search engine optimization for the low price of ten thousand dollars? Hard pass.
But about halfway through the deleting, I paused.
There, in the middle of all the junk, was a name I hadn’t thought of since college—Hudson Louis. Or rather, an email from Hudson Louis at Hudson Louis Tech dot com. I didn’t delete that one. I opened it.
Hey buddy—
Been a long time since we spoke, but I am hoping I have your correct address. I found it on Facebook, and I must admit I was surprised we were still connected there since I never use that account.
Of course, I saw the video on TikTok, just like everyone else! I am sure a lot of people have been reaching out to you since it was posted.
I’m starting a new venture capital firm, and I’d love to talk with you more about what that might mean for you. I think with your background this could be a huge opportunity. We’ve just set up headquarters in Miami, and I’d love to have you down to discuss the potential.
Let me know!
Cheers,
Hudson Louis
Finishing the email, I glanced up at Anya. She was still on the phone, still chatting away to Sunny. When she caught my eye, she winked, and I knew the conversation was going well.
Encouraged, I read Hudson’s email again. And a third time. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Hudson and I had been friends in college, both pledging Beta Sigma Chi during our freshman year, and some of our business classes overlapped. We went to more than one party together and I liked him, even though I wouldn’t have called him a close friend.
Still, venture capital was interesting. More than that, if I was being honest with myself.
During my New York City days, working in that sector had been attractive and always seemed much more fun than the toiling I did in the bullpen at the hedge fund. Working in venture capital meant taking risks. Being bold. And being willing to see things others would not or could not. A couple of key investments could change everything, could make someone millions practically overnight. Better still, the thrill was just as exciting as the money. If Hudson was anything like the guy I remembered, his firm had to be innovative and interesting.
But is finding that out an itch I want to scratch? And what would that mean about my new life in New Burlington?
“Robert?”
I started at the sound of Anya’s voice. “Sorry, what?”
“I just asked if you’re okay with doing this at The Green Frog tomorrow.” Anya held up her phone, which had the speaker muted. “They want us there at seven, and they’re sending a satellite truck and a crew.”
“They don’t want to do it by Zoom?”
“No, they want to make sure the lighting is good.”
“Wow, I’m surprised.”
“So, seven works?”
“I can be there.”
She unmuted the device and returned to the call. I took the opportunity to reread Hudson’s email, mulling over if I should send him a reply or not.
In the end, I simply closed my device. I didn’t have to reply just yet. I’ll let him know tomorrow after I’ve slept on it.