over his face. “Have I done something wrong? Because you’re avoiding me, and I’m not sure why.”
What was I supposed to say? Yes, I’m avoiding you so I don’t catch feelings. No. No way. “I’ve been busy. I have sales goals to meet, and that means hustling.”
“So busy that you don’t have time for me now that I’ve signed on the dotted line?”
I blinked at him, a rapid flutter of lashes while I tried to process what felt like a punch in the stomach. “I’ve given you more time and attention than I do most clients after they’ve bought or leased properties. But that’s mainly because they don’t ask for as much.” It wasn’t fair to criticize my professionalism when I’d gone above and beyond for him.
He took a swallow of his coffee and set the cup back down, wrapping both hands around it and keeping his eyes on the lid like it held deep secrets. Then it was his turn to sigh. “Sorry,” he said, flicking his gaze up to me. “You’re right. Low blow.”
I nodded and said nothing else. I didn’t understand the currents swirling around us.
He rubbed his hands down his thighs. “I’m going to be completely honest with you.” He flicked another glance toward me, like he was checking if that was okay. I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure I could promise the same thing in return. He bit the corner of his lip, then forged ahead. “I moved to LA for the show, and I’ve lived there ever since. I didn’t keep any of my high school friendships, so when I come back to visit, it’s to see my family. My cousins. I don’t have a lot of other friends here. I mean, there’s Jordan. But we work together, we don’t hang out together. And even though that’s you and me too, somehow...I don’t know. Somehow, I guess it started feeling different? Maybe it’s the shared history thing, and the fact that you forgave me when I didn’t deserve it. But I’ve started thinking of you as a friend, only now you’re ghosting on me, and I’m wondering why.”
He didn’t look at me once the whole time he said it, just played with his coffee cup. Maybe that was what did me in. I couldn’t leave him sitting there looking awkward and stressed out. I wanted to reach out and still his hands, hold them and promise that he had me, no matter what. But I couldn’t do that, so I did the only other thing I could think of to reassure him and threw Aaron under the bus.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was Aaron.”
His forehead wrinkled, and he finally met my eyes, his full of confusion. “Aaron?”
“Yeah. He told me I shouldn’t encourage you with this club because it was costing you more than you could afford. Said you needed to get it out of your system and get back to your career.”
“Aaron.” He repeated it in a way that made me glad I wasn’t Aaron.
“He made it sound like you’re having a quarter-life crisis.”
He took a big swig of his coffee, his face tight. “Aaron thinks that anything I do that isn’t exactly what the record label wants me to do is a quarter-life crisis.” He looked at me again as he set the cup down. “Aaron is very good about certain things. He’s taken over the roles of people I lost when I left the label. He’s my manager and publicist, sometimes my stylist, and every now and then, on a bad day, he’s my punching bag. Metaphorically speaking,” he added, like I thought he might be beating up his cousin.
“But he’s not great at other things. He came on board at the beginning of my career and got used to all the perks right away. He liked taking late meetings at expensive restaurants, and he’s never adjusted back to the everyone else’s nine-to-five ethic. He’s not even that involved in the business details anymore. He’s excellent when it comes to promo and image, but the nuts and bolts? The business stuff? He understands it. But it bores him. So I handle most of it with my dad’s help.”
“Then why not fire him from that and let him do the parts he likes?”
“Did I mention he’s my cousin?”
I shrugged. “Not sure what that has to do with keeping him for one job and not the other.”
“Because the promo and image stuff, that’s a flat salary if you hire someone.