The Intimacy Experiment (The Roommate #2) - Rosie Danan Page 0,82
wall in the conference room. “Let’s do that and plan to keep one video exclusive for platinum subscribers. Naomi, you’ve been working on a new tiered programming structure, right? Can we review that now?”
Naomi blinked. “Sorry, what?”
Next to her, Josh furrowed his dark brows. “Last week you said you’d review the subscriber analytics and make recommendations on which types of content we should put behind the higher paywall, remember?”
Fuck. Her stomach twisted. Three sets of eyes rested on her rapidly heating face. “I completely forgot.”
“You forgot?” There was no judgment in Clara’s voice, just genuine incredulity. Her co-founder didn’t know what it looked like when Naomi dropped the ball, because Naomi never let herself drop the ball.
“Sorry.” She shoved her chair back from the table, sending ripples across the surface of her coffee. “Shit.”
“Hey,” Josh said gently, more to her than to the room. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
“Of course it’s a big deal.” Her reply was practically spitting. Didn’t he realize what this meant?
Cass and Clara exchanged a look that Naomi didn’t like at all. Worry.
How could she have let this happen? This was how it all started. Something seemingly small, innocuous. But before you knew it, she’d be forgetting to pay vendors or missing a call that led to everyone’s health insurance lapsing. How the hell had she let herself get sucked into someone else’s life? Distracted from her responsibilities. People counted on her here. They trusted her to lead.
“Let’s just plan to review it next week instead,” Clara said, folding her hands in front of her, diplomatic.
Naomi got to her feet, picking up her mug as an afterthought, an excuse. “I need a refill.”
The hallway was cooler than the conference room, at least. The hum of the A/C was stronger in her ears as she leaned against the wall, tipping her head back and taking a deep breath.
Josh followed her out, closing the door behind him with a soft click. “You—”
“Don’t start.” She tried to glare at him, but her aim must have been off, because he kept talking.
“You’re allowed to make mistakes.”
“Yeah? Says who?”
He raised his hands helplessly. “I don’t know. The universe? I’m not personally trying to govern you. I don’t have a death wish.”
She holstered her lethal gaze, staring down at her shoes. “I can’t believe I forgot.”
Josh sighed. “Honestly,” he said, “I can.”
Naomi whipped her head toward him. “Excuse me?”
“You’re fucking exhausted, Stu.”
He was the only one who called her that goofy nickname. A play on her legal last name, Sturm. All the years they’d known each other hung in that word, all the times he’d asked and asked and asked her to tell him what was wrong—first as her co-star, then as her boyfriend, now as her business partner—and she never let him all the way in.
Naomi thought about protesting now, but he was right, she couldn’t even muster up the energy to fight. “I didn’t know it was so obvious.”
“Well, it’s kinda ridiculous that you thought you could add the lecture series and night classes”—he held up a hand, stalling, soothing—“yes, Clara told me, you can hiss at her later—to your already packed schedule, all while starting a new relationship. There aren’t enough hours in the day. Anyone would be struggling to keep up.”
“I don’t wanna—”
“I know you don’t wanna be just anyone,” he finished, indulgent, “but too bad. You messed up, and you’re gonna mess up again. We’re gonna keep on forgiving you, so you might as well just get used to it. The business won’t fold if you’re not constantly circling it like a hawk. It’s time for you to have a little faith in what we’ve built. And in your friends.”
She studied a chip in the handle of her mug, pressed her thumb over the rough ridge of it for a long moment.
“I promised myself when this whole thing with Ethan started that I wouldn’t compromise. That I wouldn’t succumb to the temptation to trade in Shameless for any other community.”
Josh moved so his back was against the wall beside her, and then he slid down until his butt hit the ground, long legs splayed out in front of him. “Come down here.”
Naomi scrunched her nose. She wasn’t in the habit of sitting on floors. But Josh pointed his big dumb cow eyes at her—and whatever—she guessed a tiny part of her was still fond of him or something, because she sat, creasing her pencil skirt.
“It’s not us versus them, you know. No one’s asking you