12. Chapter Twelve
Cole gets home a few minutes after two. I’ve spent the last hour pacing around my room, trying to calm my nerves about this meeting. It’s only Cole, but it’s a good way to practice my professionalism. If I go into this thinking he’s a client, and not my best friend’s dad, it’ll help me tomorrow when I speak with other people. Freelance isn’t easy, but it’s my best shot. Trying to get something long-term is going to take more time. If I can do a bunch of quick jobs while actively looking for something permanent, it’s a step in the right direction. Not only is it income, but it’s practice and adds experience to my belt. More things I can put on a resume.
I spent the morning brainstorming ideas for Cole and drew up a logo I think is suited for him. Hopefully he agrees.
I give Cole a few minutes to get settled before I bombard him. When I head downstairs, I find him in his office, sitting at his desk. I knock on the door, and he looks up.
With a smirk, he says, “You’re late.”
“You were late first,” I retort.
He chuckles. “Come in. Have a seat.”
He gets up and points to his chair, which is the only chair in here. I sit while he leans against his desk in front of me, crossing his arms. The muscles bulge and I stare for a second too long, and when I pull away, I feel his gaze on me.
Ignoring it, I wake up my tablet and put in the password.
Stay professional, Bryson.
“So, this is what I came up with so far,” I say, turning my tablet around to show him what I did.
Cole takes the tablet from my hands, his brows shooting to his hairline. He points to it, looking at me with wide eyes. “You did this?”
“Yeah,” I say carefully.
“All by yourself? You did this on Photoshop or something?”
I huff out a laugh. “No, I drew it in a drawing program.”
“Drew this…”
“Like you would draw on paper with a pencil?”
He whistles. “Damn, Bryson. This is good.”
Cole has seen some of my work over the years. I’m not sure why he seems so impressed with this.
“Thank you,” I say, ignoring the fact my face is heating. I didn’t expect his approval to be so fulfilling. Seems praise and approval from Cole is my favorite thing.
“I didn’t realize you could draw something like this on a tablet. It looks amazing.”
“Technology has come a long way, old man.” It’s quiet as he stares at the logo. His eyes move over the entire image multiple times, like he can’t believe what he’s looking at. It’s honestly pretty simple compared to some of the other things I’ve drawn. He’d probably have a heart attack if I showed him what I do for fun nowadays. “So, what do you think?”
“Right—shit. Sorry, I’m just blown away by this. Um, so I like the slogan. Crafted with harp-like precision. Love the play on harp for Harper. And though the drawing is amazing—really fucking amazing—I’m not sure the guys will like a grown man in a diaper.”
I furrow my brow as I shift so I can look at the logo. “Does it look like a diaper?”
“No, no! It doesn’t. It’s done really well, I just don’t remember what they’re called.” He chuckles nervously, handing me the tablet back.
I take it and look over what I did, making sure it doesn’t look like a diaper.
“It’s a chiton. Or tunic, as it’s more commonly referred.”
“Yeah, that. Definitely doesn’t look like a diaper, I swear. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
I take a breath, allowing my nerves to settle.
“It’s okay. I get it, trust me. I want you to like what I come up with for you. So if you aren’t honest, this won’t work. This is only one option, and it was without talking to you. I’m not offended. What are you thinking?”
I open up the program I drew the logo in, copy the image, and put it into a new file.
“Could you do just the harp, no man? But still in a circle like it is now.”
“Yeah, I could do that. What about a harp made of stone?” I start the new drawing, pulling the pieces from the old logo that I can use—the circle, the slogan beneath it, and I copy the harp and make it bigger to fix up.
“Hm, maybe? Yeah, that could work. Is it too much trouble to do it up both ways?”
I give him a quick smile. “You’re a client. It’s not too much trouble.”
“You’re right. Meaning we should talk about payment.”
“Payment?” I question, pausing what I’m doing to look up at him. “You can’t pay me for this.”
He frowns, shifting his stance. “It’s work, Bryson. Of course I’m paying you.”
I shake my head, dropping the tablet to my lap. “You’re letting me stay in your house for free. Eat your food. Use your truck. You’re not paying me, Cole.”
“I’d feel better if you let me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t,” I say adamantly.
“What if I pay you a small amount?” he hedges.
“Absolutely not.”
“Pretend I’m not letting you stay here and eat my food and use my truck. What would something like that cost?”
We hold each other’s stare for a long time. I let out a sigh, knowing he isn’t going to let this go.
“Just the logo?” He nods. “Couple hundred. Usually comes with one or two revisions. If you want more, it’s extra.”
There’s no point in lying to him. I wouldn’t put it past him to figure it out on his own. Picking the tablet back up, I continue on the drawing while we keep up the conversation that I don’t want to have.
“That’s fair. And the website stuff?”
“Hourly rate. I’d probably start with $100 an hour.”
“So it’s possible this whole thing could cost about a thousand? Maybe more?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s right.” I do the final touches on the sketch and hold it up for him to see.
“Damn, Bryson. You know your shit, huh?” He grabs the tablet and looks it over. The look in his eyes is nothing less than awe. It feels so good to have someone look at my work like this. No one ever has. I mean, not since I was younger and Chris was impressed over my drawings. Then Mila, Mark, and Onyx too, but it didn’t last forever. I can’t remember the last time someone looked at my stuff like this. Especially after being in college, where all they do is pick it apart. I get they’re trying to help you improve, but someone being impressed by something I’ve done feels pretty damn good.
I can’t help but grin. “After four years of college, I like to think I do.”
“I like it. It’s perfect.” He hands me the tablet back.
“You sure?”
“More than sure.”
“I can change it. Draw up more options?”
“Trust what comes out of my mouth, Bryson. It’s perfect.”
I nod, knowing he’s chastising me for doubting myself.
“When do you want the website stuff done?”
“Soon as you have time, I guess.”
“You have the login and password?”
“Sure do. It’s saved on my phone. Give me your number and I’ll send it to you.”
He takes his phone from his pocket and hands it to me. I pull up the app to add my name and number in his contacts, then hand it back. A moment later, mine is dinging with a new message that also pops up on my tablet. I hold it up to show him.
“Got it.” I get to my feet. “If you change your mind about anything, let me know. I’ll clean this up and get started on the website.”
Cole nods, and I turn to leave but he grips my wrist, causing me to stop. I turn toward him, looking at where his hand is holding me, then up to his face.
“You’re doing amazing, Bryson.” His voice is low, his fingers are searing my skin. “I’m proud of you.”
Emotion clogs my throat, but I manage to croak out a “Thanks.”
I swear he runs his thumb along my skin, but obviously I’m crazy because why would he do that?
When he drops my arm, I give him a smile and leave the room, my heart pounding as I hurry up the stairs. I jump in the shower, change, and text Chris to let him know I’m on my way to Mark’s. I don’t get an answer, and when I show up at Mark’s, I find out why.