43. THE ONE WITH THE SIX-FIGURE DEAL
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
THE ONE WITH THE SIX-FIGURE DEAL
HexedHeroine posted a poll to her story: Please help me settle a bet with funny boy West Parker: ice cream in a cone or a cup?
WestParkerComedy shared the poll to his story: Two hands are better than one
I scoop a bite of rocky road into my mouth, pointing at Joey with the spoon before taking another. “I bet it’s six figures.”
She licks her strawberry cheesecake ice cream in the freshly made cone, taking the employees recommendation, and I can’t decide if I like it when she eats cinnamon sugar donuts or ice cream more.
“No way, I bet they countered at sixty-grand. I gave them too many stipulations.” Joey doesn’t want brand trips or to turn her account into a walking ad, and she’s not posting anything as Joey—only Hex.
I bark a laugh, throwing my head back like she told the funniest joke. “No fucking way. You’ve got one of the most popular accounts online right now. I don’t think they’re stupid enough to lowball you when they’re the ones who reached out… Six figures plus. Final answer.”
She glowers at me, reaching for her phone with her free hand. “They’re not going to offer me a six-figure deal, West.”
I return the glower. “Why not?” Sometimes I want to shake her—she doesn’t see her worth, even after the impact she’s witnessed first hand that Hex has on people.
Joey licks her ice cream again. “Because I’m just an online presence, not a physical person with ticket sales and shit.” She motions to me, resting her hand on the table with her phone still in it.
“Says the woman who’s had multiple authors publicly thank her for changing their lives with a single post.” She stares at me, unable to argue as I shovel another bite of ice cream into my mouth like the period of my sentence.
She sighs and lifts her phone, the screen glowing against her face as she taps through to the email. I watch her eyes scan, unable to see any of it from this angle. Sticking my spoon in my ice cream, I lean forward, trying to peek from the top.
Joey’s brows furrow.
“What?” I blurt.
“Shhh.” She shoves her ice cream cone at me, leaning back with both hands on her phone.
I twist in my seat, trying to find a place to put this fucking thing so I don’t have to hold it. “Joey, what the fuck…” I mumble, “See, this is why you eat ice cream out of a cup.”
I glance down, then up at Joey still focused on her phone. She’s not allergic to nuts, so I shrug and flip her cone into the bowl with my ice cream and scramble to her side of the booth. “What does it say?”
She doesn’t push me away when I squish in close. “Six figures.”
“Told you!” I grin, but she shakes her head.
“One year contract. One post a month. Two of the four brand influencer trips.” I see a tinge of disappointment flash across her eyes, and I want to make it disappear immediately.
“Well, I wonder if you can renegotiate and ask for—”
She cuts me off. “There’s a counteroffer.”
I look at her as she drops the phone in her lap and fills me in. “No posting requirements outside of the deal itself. No extended contract. No required trips.” She pulls her legs into a crisscross and rests her back against the wall.
I drop my hand from the table to her calf. I want to touch her at all times, that’s all. Nothing weird. “Joey, baby, please. The anticipation is going to fucking eat me alive.”
“They’ll triple the pay if the deal is between us both.
We agree to either fly out to LA where they’ll hire a crew to film, or they send a small one to us who will set up all the equipment and give us the privacy to record alone.
” We both know which is the better option.
“There’s more money to be made if it’s promoted to both our audiences, especially now that they see how well we work together on camera…
A few hundred thousand dollars is worth the risk that this thing between us doesn’t fizzle out before they can at least make their money back. ”
We sit in the booth together, sharing the mixture our ice cream has become while making a list of pros and cons because I know that’s what Joey needs. I insist she makes one for herself too, considering the deal alone if even for a second.
Any tension from earlier this week is gone by the end, her legs thrown over my lap as she takes the last unmelted bite of ice cream.
We agree to take the deal together, because if not, Joey’s going to turn it down, and no one deserves this one more than her.
Enzo texts me as we’re throwing our empty cup and used napkins away.
Enzo
You two coming back?
Me
Definitely not
When we get back to our penthouse of the week, I toss Joey over my shoulder and haul her into my room.
The little wave she gave like she was going anywhere other than straight to my bed was cute, but I’ve wanted to get my hands on her all fucking week, and now that I have the chance and at least an hour of alone time, I’m going to see how long it takes for her to beg me to stop edging her.
She does try her hardest, but I’m pretty sure she barely makes it ten minutes before I’m worried she might burst into tears from how badly her body needs a release.
We celebrate first, and then Joey sends the email accepting the deal with NBTWN Tequila after we break her orgasm record.
Joey might have said no cuddling, but it’s clear she meant only during the sleepovers she won’t let us have, because after sex, she always tangles into the sheets with me and spends however long she’ll let herself with her head on my chest. The scent of her hair relaxes me to a level I’ve only ever felt with her.
I’m wide awake, but my eyes are closed, and my heart has returned to its slow resting rate.
She’s quiet too, but I know she’s not asleep, because her finger follows the path of a six-inch faded scar on my right ribcage from the accident.
In this state of bliss, and without thinking, I break an unspoken agreement between us, bringing up the last rule Joey made when we started sleeping together in Philly.
“What happens when tour’s over?” I ask, my eyes peeling open.
Joey tenses. “Uh, well…” she starts, her fingers no longer tracing the multiple faded scars along my torso. “We film the end of tour video, tell our fans thank you, and then we—”
“Go our separate ways?” I ask, my interruption causing her to sit up slowly like she’s surprised by my jagged response.
I sit up too, propping myself against the headrest.
“That’s been the plan, yes.” Joey answers like I’ve sat down with HR. “Hex and West Parker’s time on tour comes to an end. I scheduled filming time and already put it in the content calendar.”
I let out a long breath, wanting to tell her how little I care about the fucking content calendar right now. “I’m not talking about Hex and West Parker. I’m talking about me and you, Joey.”
She’s seconds from darting, and I know she wants to… But she doesn’t, and that matters. “I told you it’s just sex.” Joey’s voice is a whisper, one without any confidence in the words she's saying. “That I’d hurt you…” She’s frozen in place, the sheet wrapped around her body.
“Is that really all this is to you still? Because I don’t think it is…
” I’m afraid of her answer. “It’s obviously never just been about the sex for me.
” I can’t take the words back once they’re out, and I wouldn’t want to.
“I know you’re scared, but Joey, I—” I bite my lip, stopping myself before I fuck this all up.
Joey has an almost deer in the headlights look, her wide eyes telling me something she’s not.
She hasn’t gotten another job yet. We’re less than three weeks to the end of this tour, and Joey still hasn’t lined anything else up… And why does she need to right away? She’s got plenty of deals and money coming in from her contract with me.
“We can see where this goes,” I suggest, reaching forward to get her to look at me.
“It’s working really well. What if we just…
try?” When I cup her cheek, her eyes fill with tears, instantly spilling over.
“Baby, no.” I pull her onto my lap, her soft sobs cracking tiny fractures through my heart one by one. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
She curls into my arms, and I sit in the most brutal silence I’ve ever experienced until she puts me out of my misery.
“I’ve been offered a job,” she whispers so quietly I almost think I imagined it.
The room stills, and I’m not sure who moves first, but my arms loosen, and she looks up at me with her pink nose and puffy eyes.
I was foolish to think Joey wasn’t looking for jobs—of course she had been.
As if she can read my mind, she says, “I haven’t applied to a single job since coming on the road.
I knew I needed to, but I was distracted…
” I wish knowing she wasn’t actively looking to get away from me made this better, but it doesn’t, because it feels like she’s one step closer to fully cutting me off.
“You’re the only person who knows.” My entire conversation with Frankie seems null and void because she doesn’t know about this new development.
“I got the first email two and half weeks before we met but never saw it.” She slides off my lap, and when she’s no longer touching me, it feels like she’s a world away.
Joey tells me about the second email she found in Baltimore, and then the phone call on Sunday while in Pittsburg.
“I was offered the position on the spot.”
Her shift in mood makes so much sense now. “Oh,” I say on a breath.
“I haven’t accepted the offer yet.” She says it like there’s hope she won’t.
“But you’re going to?” I need her to say what I know she’s already decided.
Joey doesn’t nod. She doesn’t shake her head. She stares at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s my dream job.”
God, I’m so fucking happy for her, but this is really going to suck for me. This isn’t Joey letting her unhealed wounds get in the way—it’s the job of her dreams, and who am I to come in between that?
I force a smile, even though Joey knows when it’s not real. “Tell me about it.” If she doesn’t distract me, I’ll focus too hard on losing another thing I love… and I can’t do that right now. “I wanna know everything there is to know about the woman who’s stealing my favorite employee.”
I don’t want to think about what this means for my future. I want to live in bliss for three more weeks, continuing to fall more in love with the girl who warned me she’d break my heart.
This is over when tour ends.
But I know I’ll love Joey for the rest of my life.