Chapter Thirty-Six
After receiving a late-night email telling me the Sirius execs wanted to see me first thing in the morning, I didn’t sleep a wink.
I knew there’d be backlash after my epic on-air one-eighty, but I just didn’t realize it would come so soon.
The stakes were higher than I’d ever imagined.
This deal wasn’t just a contract, it could be a turning point.
The money alone would be huge, a complete game changer, the kind that reroutes your entire future.
But I knew if I really wanted to change my life, I couldn’t keep walking the same path. Not after everything I’d learned.
The elevator dinged open on the thirty-sixth floor. I stepped out and faced the glass doors of their sleek office space, the word Sirius etched boldly across the surface.
Expelling a heavy breath, I made my way into the hallway, my boots squeaking louder with every step. The receptionist gave me a tight smile as she continued chatting away on a phone call and nodded me toward the open door to the conference room.
I craned my neck inside, spotting three people already seated at the table: Greg, head of programming; Elise, head of advertising; and Lauren, Sirius’s general counsel.
Great. The big guns.
Walking in, I tried to smile to hide my panic, a vicious thunderstorm hammering in my chest and swirling down into my gut. I pulled out the chair they gestured to across from them, but before sitting down, I cleared my throat.
Opening my mouth, I had hoped to offer the team a warm hello, instead I instinctually launched into a mounted defense.
“Look, before you say anything, I know. I went off script. Way off. It was messy, it was emotional, and yeah, completely off brand. But I couldn’t fake it anymore.
I couldn’t keep pretending to be this detached version of myself just because it makes good radio.
When I think about the world right now, all the fear, the division, the loneliness, I realize it doesn’t need any more cynicism.
It needs something to believe in. And I didn’t realize how much I needed that too.
And if it means the deal’s off the table .
. . then I’ll have to live with that. But I’d rather lose it all than keep selling something I don’t believe in anymore. ”
Silence.
Elise leaned back in her chair, a slight smirk playing at her lips. “Anything else?”
I nodded. “Well, yeah. In fact, now that you mention it. Ravi had no idea that I was going to go rogue like that. I’d given him different show notes that he’d green-lit. Please don’t take out any of my missteps, if you’d call them that, on him. He’s really good at his job.”
Greg folded his hands on the table. “Is that all?”
I nodded. “Yeah. That’s it.”
“Well, I think everyone in this room can agree that your show yesterday was quite a departure,” Greg said.
Elise was nodding, her expression tight. “Not exactly what our partners are paying top dollar to be associated with.”
The reality of the situation was hitting me. As much as I’d tried to prepare myself for the very real possibility that they might pull out of this life-changing deal, actually sitting there and watching it unfold was something else entirely.
“No, of course, I completely understand.”
Elise’s disapproval gave way to a smile. “That’s what made the spike in numbers so unexpected.”
My head snapped up. “Wait? What?”
“Why don’t you take a look at this for a minute.” Greg unfolded the cover of his tablet, tapped the screen to life, and spun it around so it faced me.
I leaned over the table studying the screen and blinked at him. “Um . . . I’m sorry, but what is this?”
“These are the numbers for yesterday’s show.”
The screen showed a graph with a very steep, very promising upward arrow.
“Highest ratings you’ve had in two years,” Greg explained. “Social media threads were on fire. The show was trending within fifteen minutes of you going off script. The fan-mail inbox is apparently overflowing. People are calling it the most powerful episode in the show’s history.”
“You tapped into something. Something raw. And you’re right.
Given the current climate of the world right now, people are tired of cynicism.
They want to feel something. They want permission to believe again.
And somehow, you, our queen of detachment and disillusionment, gave them that,” Elisa said, a look of astonishment crossing her face as if she couldn’t quite believe it either.
I stared at them, and it took me a few seconds to collect enough saliva in my mouth to speak. “So wait . . . you aren’t nixing the deal?”
“Hell no!” Greg said, now beaming. “We want more of that. Not the whole show, obviously. We still need the bite and the fire. But now, we know you’ve got layers. And we want the audience to see them too.”
I felt my knees wobble a little as I finally plopped into the nearest chair.
Elise crossed her arms and leaned forward. “We always knew you were good, Elliot. But now? You may have tapped into what people are really hungry for.”
My heart thudded loudly in my chest, the rush of it making my face flush with heat. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t guarded and closed off. And instead of getting punished for it, I was being . . . celebrated.
Lauren slipped a packet from her leather folder and slid it across the table.
Hands trembling, I lifted the pages and scanned the first one.
They were giving me everything I’d asked for.
A three-year contract stacked with more zeroes than I’d ever seen in my life.
The show would have national syndication, a prime-time placement, and best of all, I retained full creative control over Love Is a Four-Letter Word.
For a second, the words blurred. I blinked hard, letting it all hit me. This was everything I’d worked for. This wasn’t just a deal. It was validation. I’d made something that mattered. That reached people. And now, I was being trusted to keep going, on my terms.
“A copy’s already been sent to your agent,” Lauren said, smiling warmly, “but we wanted to make the offer in person.”
“I’m speechless, which doesn’t happen to me often,” I joked.
“Let’s hope not,” Greg said with a smile.
We rose from the table and shook hands, the kind of firm, congratulatory grip reserved for people who’d just sealed something big.
After thanking them for the incredible news, I walked out of the room in a daze, the door clicking shut behind me.
The receptionist gave a polite wave, still mid-call, but I was too stunned to do much more than blink back.
My heels clicked down the hallway toward the elevator, and my hand reached instinctively for my phone. I wanted to call Leo. To tell him.
But he wasn’t in my life anymore.
Still, I didn’t put the phone away. Instead, I opened a new group text and typed in a list of names—Ravi, Mom, Dad, Shira, Keith, Allegra, Cannon, Marin, Jada, Stella, Izzy, and even Matty. People who had been part of the journey, in one way or another.
I did it.
Love Is a Four-Letter Word was picked up by Sirius.
Three-year deal.
Full syndication.
Next stop: everywhere!
Then I hit send.
Marin was waiting at her apartment door with daisies, champagne, and a smile so wide I could practically see her molars. Before I had a chance to speak, she threw her arms around me and squealed.
“Oh my God, El, you did it! You’re going to be like, actually famous. Like famous famous! Promise you won’t forget about me when you’re rubbing elbows with Jimmy Fallon and the rest of the late-night hosts and celebrity guests.”
“Are you kidding? I would never forget you! I may need a plus-one to all the fabulous events I’ll get invited to, so get your party pumps ready.”
“Ooh, I haven’t needed my party pumps in like a decade. Now I’ll finally have an excuse to take them, and me, out of retirement,” she said as she led the way inside. “Jada texted that she’s running a few minutes late, but Stella should be here any second.”
Marin already had the mah-jongg table set up, the tiles all face down, ready to be stacked.
I set my bag on the floor next to my usual seat when Stella burst in the front door, arms full of two boxes of Baked by Melissa mini cupcakes and a bottle of champagne.
“Ahhh! Elliot! That show. I was walking to Pilates, earbuds in, and then your whole on-air love-and-hope confession hit. Suddenly, I’m tearing up in the middle of Madison Avenue.
Oh, and the contract! Sweet Jesus, tell us everything!
” She tossed the goodies on the counter and practically plowed me down with an enthusiastic hug.
Her excitement reignited my own, and I still couldn’t believe it was real.
It was the sort of thing I dreamed about in college while I ate cold, day-old pizza and wondered if my Communications degree would ever be worth anything.
And now? Now it was real. Tangible. The DocuSigned PDF sitting in my inbox like a glittering, too-good-to-be-true plot twist.
“Let’s at least wait for Jada so she doesn’t have to repeat the story a zillion times,” Marin suggested as she popped the bottle of cold champagne she had in the fridge and replaced it with the one Stella brought to chill.
And as if on cue, Jada flung open the door and squealed as she shuffled in with a handful of treats and chucked them on the counter with the others.
She flung her arms around me, jumping up and down until Marin and Stella joined in, and the four of us, entangled in a group hug, bounced like idiots in excitement.
“Okay, so now, tell us everything!” Stella repeated, grabbing the flutes Marin had just poured and handing them out. “But most importantly, what’s the going rate for baring your soul live on air these days? Please tell me it starts with six figures!”
I scrunched up my face and slowly held up seven fingers which caused them to scream like we were teenagers at a boy band concert.