Haze - By Andrea Wolfe Page 0,50

business hat, the hat that seemed more appropriate for signing contracts than giving advice.

"I guess," I said weakly.

"Do you want your job or do you want Jack?" Jesse's tone led me to believe that I was legitimately being interrogated. If I had smelled cigarette smoke and coffee, it wouldn't have felt out of place at all.

"Why can't I have both? I want both." I felt super exposed, but it was of my own doing entirely. There was a tiny bit of red wine left, so I poured it in my glass and eagerly took a sip.

"A job's a job," Laura said. "If you like Jack, then you should stay with him. Sam sounds like a creep."

"But you moved here to make it on your own. That means something." Jesse seemed to be unhappy with Laura's encouragement. Based on the hours he put in every damn week, I knew he valued hard work presumably more than anything else. At least he was being consistent.

Honestly, I felt like I had one of those cartoon devils on one shoulder and an angel on the other. I was still just as confused as I had been when I began, maybe even more so now. The thought of a career based on my own hard work felt good, but then again, so did a relationship with Jack.

They were drastically different scenarios. Just because something felt good didn't mean you could compare it to other things that felt good. I couldn't help vacillating.

"But these two things aren't mutually exclusive," I pleaded. "Jack doesn't have to sign with MCI. It's his choice. We don't even talk about it." It seemed like perfectly sound logic to me, like it was the loophole that would save me in the end.

"He's in a bad position," Jesse said firmly.

"Who? And why?"

"Sam. Well, you kind of are, too."

"Why do you have to be so dramatic, Jesse? She's having a hard time with a hard decision." Laura stood up and walked to the bathroom, leaving the two of us there.

Jesse paused, seeming to catch himself. "Do you want me to continue, Effie? I'm sorry. I forget where I am and get carried away sometimes."

More than anything, I wanted something I could deal with, something almost tangible. Up until now, I was entertaining every possibility, and none of them made complete sense. Hiding felt good, but then again, so did proper confrontation.

It was easy to hide from what scared you, and I knew that too well. Real growth came from approaching fear head on and embracing how it made you feel. These were just words, right? I wasn't bound by blood or anything just from internally considering something.

"Just spill your heart out, Jesse. I'm braced." My hands inadvertently tightened around my thighs as he began.

"If he signs and people find out about you—an employee of the label, might I add—and Jack, it could wind up being a controversy and generating bad PR. If he doesn't sign, Sam will probably get fired if what you keep telling me is true. And if Sam actually knows anything and fails to succeed for the label, you'll probably get fired too, unless he keeps his mouth shut. It sounds like he's mad at you, so your chances aren't so..." He trailed off, knowing damn well that I already knew the end of the sentence.

My head started spinning. I hadn't considered any of this, just rolled with Jack's punches and had a good time. It was bliss and it was fucking powerful. I felt it; I didn't think it. Despite my several glasses of wine, I felt dreadfully sober and I just wanted to hide from everything.

"But Sam doesn't know anything. He thinks he knows, but I haven't admitted anything, even with his incessant prying." I nervously fingered the empty wine glass in front of me, wishing it would magically become one of those stress balls like my mom used to have around the house.

Jesse looked away, his focus on Laura, who was strolling back into the room. "Hey, don't feel like you need to explain yourself to me. If you're happy, that's great. I'm just trying to be realistic. We both pay the rent here."

"You and being realistic," Laura complained. She took her seat next to Jesse again and rubbed his shoulders. "What about having fun?"

"I said it's fine if she wants to keep seeing this guy. You missed that part, sweetheart." He played with his phone, perhaps because he was nervous about making a snide remark, or