Cupcakes and Christmas - R.J. Scott Page 0,73
it. By the numbers. One, put the egg in a bowl and whisk. Then step two, and so on. It made sense to me that a child would learn from a numbered list with everything illustrated so they knew what to do. I was lost in thinking about how I’d present this and what it meant for the career I had already. My cell began to dance across the table as it vibrated, and I caught it, call it divine intervention or the worst timing anyone could ever have, but it was Erin calling, and I answered it.
“Hang on,” I told her and indicated to Brody I was taking the call outside. As soon as I was in the corridor, I found a corner. “Hello?”
“Justin, Kleckso have offered a bonus for you to use the creamer in today’s bake—”
“No.” I cut that dead at the knees.
“It’s your last chance to feature them after you get last place today.”
“What? No, it’s not. I could make the final.” Although even then I wouldn’t use that crap because that was what it was. Shit. The guilt at the twenty k in my bank for the exaggerations I’d propagated about that fake cream churned in my stomach.
“That’s very unlikely,” she said and clucked her tongue. “You’ve been very lucky so far it seems.”
“I’m sorry?”
“From your messages to me it would seem that you’ve felt lucky. You said you missed having someone to tidy up your messes.”
“That was last week.”
“And it’s changed this week?”
“Yes.” Yes, it had because I’d opened myself up and become something more. I didn’t need to lie or be something I wasn’t. I didn’t need to have money in the bank that defined me, and I certainly didn’t need someone tidying up my messes.
“I wasn’t that bothered, you know. I never thought I’d make it past round one, and we all know that Brody will win because he’s a freaking genius, but I have a good chance of getting second, and I want to take it.”
“But it would make more sense if you came third and used your time to fulfill some of the promotional obligations I have booked you in for.”
“Cancel them.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” She sounded like I’d told her I was joining a commune and the horror in her voice made me wave. Why was I rocking the boat?
“Nope. Cancel them, cancel everything. Invoice me, and then we need to renegotiate the terms of my contract with you on renewal at the end of December. I’m looking to move into education entertainment, maybe create an online kids show? Or books?”
“That is not our demographic—”
“Then I’ll hire someone else for the twenty-five percent you get from me.”
“What the hell Justin?”
“I respect you, Erin, but let’s be honest. It’s my career, and I’ve lost control of my life, and I want it back.”
She sighed, and I could imagine her expression of distaste or anger or whatever it was she was feeling.
“Okay, Justin, if that is your final decision.”
“It is.”
“We could part company at the end of the year if you insist on doing this.”
“I’m cool with that, and you’ll go on and make some other kid rich, and I’ll move on and do something else.” I very nearly said ‘follow Brody to Corning’, but I restrained myself.
“I think you’re making a mistake. You’re on the cusp of something big, all it would take is one revealing photograph with Brody, and we could triple your followers and there are big bonuses for that.”
“Not interested.”
“You’ll lose money. We’ll lose money.”
“I’m sorry, Erin. I’ve made my decision.”
“Goodbye, Justin.”
She’d ended the call before I could return the pleasantry. I didn’t have a single clue what was coming next, but if the buzz in my chest wasn’t me having an anxiety attack, then I think I was excited.
The photo that appeared on my social media an hour later, a long-distance shot of me and Brody rolling in the snow with all kinds of stupid ass hashtags made my heart fall. He was going to think I did that, and I tried to log in to delete it, but the password wouldn’t work. What the hell?
What did I do now?
Get ahead of it. Make a statement.
I sat on the window seat, turned on the lamp, and set up the phone, all on autopilot.
“Hi, Mallys!” I began enthusiastically. “Just wanted you all to know that the last photo was posted by mistake!” I needed to make sure that I chose my words carefully. “You