Chapter 37
thirty-seven
“You guys are getting mail delivered here now?” Lola asks Ever.
She’s holding a small stack of envelopes in her hands. We got home from the airport about an hour ago, and she must’ve checked the mailbox.
“No,” Ever responds, and his eyebrows pinch together the way they do when he’s confused.
“Huh, wonder how they knew you were here?” She hands him the envelope and then says, “There’s one for you too, Soph. It looks official.”
And now I’m the one who’s confused.
Ever’s opening his envelope while I take mine and do the same.
“It’s from the label.” Ever sighs and rubs his forehead. “Jesus, they just won’t give up.”
I read through my letter quickly, and the panic that sets in is immediate. I’ve never been threatened with legal action before, but my reaction is visceral, like my body is trying to purge the news. “Can they really do this, Ev?”
He walks over and takes the letter from my shaking hand.
After he reads it, he blows out a breath.
“I’m sorry, Soph.” The letter crumples when his hand balls up in a fist, and he takes a few steps away like he needs distance to vent.
“Goddammit,” he growls. He’s trying to hold in his frustration but physically can’t do it.
When he turns to me, the anguish in his eyes is heartbreaking.
“Fuck these guys!” he yells. “Threatening me, I understand, but this crosses the fucking line.” He shakes the paper in his hand.
“What does it say?” Lola asks, and she sounds as worried as I am, which takes a lot.
“They’re threatening me with a lawsuit, saying I’m part of Ev’s breach of contract. They’re also claiming rights to all photos I’ve taken of Ever and Thicker Than Water and want to sue me for damages for distributing them without permission.”
“They can’t do that,” Lola says, the anger switch in her has been flipped.
I shrug, because I’m at a loss. “Can they do this, Ev? I can’t afford a fucking attorney. I have three thousand dollars in my savings account. What do they think they’re going to get out of me?” My legs are unsteady, so I make my way to sit on the nearest chair. “What’s yours say?” I ask him.
He walks to me, prompts me to stand, sits, and then pulls me down on his lap.
When his arms come around me, I can feel his chest rise and fall against me.
“Don’t worry about the attorney, I’ve got you.
This is all bullshit. They’re bullies. By threatening you, they think I’ll fold and go back to them. This is them tightening the screws.”
“What’s yours say?” I repeat.
“Threatening a lawsuit for breach of contract and suing for loss of profit to include everything related to Thicker Than Water: ticket sales, merch sales, song royalties, which there aren’t any, and social media revenue, which would never be theirs anyway.”
I take a few deep breaths while I bite the hell out of the inside of my cheek.
He releases me and flattens the letters out on the table next to us, trying to work out the wrinkles with his fingers. “I need to scan these and email them to Ms. Banks.”
While he’s scanning and emailing, I call her office and leave a message with her assistant about the development. She assures me they’ll call back shortly because Ms. Banks already had Ever on her schedule for the day. It’s only one o’clock now.
Less than five minutes later my cell rings, and I answer it on speaker without looking at the caller. “Hello, this is Sophie.” My heart is racing.
“Sophie, hi. It’s Nate Garcia with Noble Insurance.” His friendly voice is incongruous and so wrong that I almost hang up.
Instead, I close my eyes, tip my head back, and take a deep breath.
“Sophie, are you there?” he asks because I’ve been quiet so long.
“I’m here. Sorry, Nate. What can I do for you?” I ask, on polite autopilot.
Ever and Lola are both watching me, listening in on the conversation. I don’t mind.
“Well, as you’ve probably already deduced from this call, you’re missed.”
All I can do is shake my head, because of all the calls to receive in the middle of a crisis, this is the last one I was expecting. “Umm, okay.”
He laughs his lighthearted laugh like I’m joking and continues, “Omar asked me to give you a call and ask for your personal email address. Mark was fired immediately after your interview. Omar has been assessing staffing needs, shuffling personnel, consolidating departments, and held off replacing him until he was sure he needed to. He’s eliminated three Manager positions and created a new Director position to oversee project management and research and development, and he would like to hire you. ”
Lola’s moving closer, lured in by the drama.
“He wants to hire me?” I’m bewildered. Completely and utterly.
“Yes. That’s why I’m asking for your email address.
He would like to send you a formal offer letter.
As well as a letter of apology for the events that took place during your interview.
He felt horrible.” Nate sounds so sincere that it takes me out of the moment and back to that day, which was only weeks ago but somehow feels more like years.
“The scene wasn’t pretty after you left the meeting.
Mark was escorted out and fired, and within the week every department under Omar went through training on recognizing sexism and discrimination in the workplace. ”
“Wow,” I say, shocked, because this is all a bit overwhelming.
“You rocked the boat. It’s been a long time coming, so on a personal note, thank you.”
I sense that he’s dropped the friendly facade, and this is Nate being vulnerable and real, so I agree wholeheartedly, “It was a long time coming.”
“I should also share that every department you worked with is very vocal about being Team Sophie. You made an impression. They miss you.”
“I just did my job,” I say, dumbly.
“I’ll say,” Nate agrees. “I know Omar really wanted to make this call himself, but he’s out of the country attending a family wedding and doesn’t have cell service. He prepared the letters and asked me to contact you the moment HR approved and confirmed the re-org.”
Ever’s cell ringing from the other side of the room pulls my attention from Nate. Our eyes are on each other when he answers, “Ms. Banks, thank you for responding so quickly. Can you give me a few seconds? I need to go somewhere I can talk.”
“Sophie? Are you there?” Nate asks, because I’m quiet again.
Ever walks to me, rubs my arm with his free hand, and presses a kiss to my forehead that he holds for a few seconds before he pulls back and locks eyes with me.
“Give him your email address. Take a look at the offer, Soph. You deserve to know what your options are.” His face doesn’t suggest sadness; he’s advocating for me because I’m failing to do it for myself.
When he steps out the back door to rejoin his call, I do the same by giving Nate my email.
“Great, I’ll send it over right now. Thanks, Sophie. Please let me know if you have questions. Omar will be back in two days.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Nate. Bye.”
“Bye.”
When I set my phone down and turn toward the back door, Lola stops me. “Soph?”
Turning my head, I look at her.
“I know this is all a lot. And I don’t know what it’s like to be in your shoes, but please know that there’s no wrong decision here.
That man,” she points at the door Ever walked through, “will love and support you no matter what you decide to do. He’s different than anyone you’ve been with before.
They used you. He just wants you to be happy.
So, when you go to overthink this decision, don’t.
Set the pessimism aside and use that big, beautiful, annoyingly analytical brain of yours to weigh your options.
You’ll kill it either way.” Her eyes are glassy, but she’s wearing her proud Mama smile that she usually saves for Benji.
“Thanks, Lo. I needed that.” God, do I ever.
Before I make it to the door, Ever walks back in.
“You okay?” he asks, as he walks to me and wraps me up in the kind of hug I only associate with him.
He is my safe harbor.
I catch Lola out of the corner of my eye, and she mouths, “Told you,” before disappearing downstairs to join Jesse and Benji, who are playing a video game.
“I’m okay. I think the shock has passed.” Hugging him, I believe it. “How about you? What did she say?”
He ignores my question. “You gave him your email?”
“I did.” Why does my chest hurt saying those words?
Still in his embrace, he rubs my shoulders.
“Ms. Banks was pissed. God, she’s terrifying.
She said you have nothing to worry about, and threatening you was a flex to get a reaction from me.
She’s going to make a few calls and get back to us tomorrow with a plan of attack. Wanna go lie in bed and talk?”
I nod against his collarbone, because it’s like he read my mind.
Kicking off my shoes in front of my closet, I shut my bedroom door.
Ever’s on the bed already, lying on his back watching me. The tension is melting away for both of us.
“I’m trying to figure out how to tell you to take their offer,” he says.
Slipping my socks off, I crawl onto the bed and lie on my belly, propped up on my elbows so I can look him in the eye. “Why?”
One of my favorite things about Ever is how logical he is. One of my other favorite things is how considerate he is. As always, I’m curious to hear his reasoning.
“Stability. Job security. Benefits. Networking. Hell, just being able to leave work at work when you clock out and not bring it home at the end of the day would be huge.”
“Health insurance and a salary are nice, I’m not gonna lie.
” He nods and opens his mouth to say something, but I continue, “But there’s no such thing as job security.
I used to think there was, but that was just me being na?ve because an unforeseen layoff hadn’t come for me yet.
And a director-level job would be demanding.
You know me, I don’t stop thinking about whatever I’m working on because it’s five o’clock. ”