“I’m not trying to be combative,” Ava added softly. “If this is what you want to do, we’ll support you. It just seems a little…”
“Out of character,” Bridget finished.
I stared at the half-empty takeout cup in my hand. “Maybe. But maybe it’s also time to try something new.”
I was twenty-six. I’d had one “real” job since I graduated and no significant developments in my personal or professional lifes. I considered blogging my second job, but a lot of people didn’t and I hated how I let their opinions affect the many hours of real work I poured into writing, styling, photography, and social media.
I was basically doing the same thing I’d been doing since college, only I was older and a little more jaded.
Meanwhile, Ava had moved to London (even if it’d only been temporary), got engaged, and landed her dream job traveling the world as a photographer; Bridget got married and became a freaking queen, and Jules passed the bar, became a high-powered attorney, and moved in with her boyfriend.
Everyone was starting new chapters of their lives while I was stuck in the prologue, waiting for my story to be told.
I swallowed the bitterness coating my tongue. If I didn’t shake things up, I’d be an unfinished manuscript forever. A thousand potential words that never made it onto the page. Someone who could’ve been something instead of someone who did something.
“Understandable. Change is the spice of life,” Jules agreed. Her face softened before she added, “Like Ava said, we’re not trying to challenge you on this. We just want to make sure it’s what you really want. If you’re happy, we’re happy.”
“I know.” I cracked a tiny smile. “At the risk of sounding completely cheesy…I love you guys.”
“Did you hear that?” Jules placed a hand over her chest and looked at Ava. “She loves us. She really loves us!”
“You know what that means,” Ava said solemnly.
“You guys—” I barely had a chance to put my drink down before they tackled me in a hug. “Stop!” I laughed, my earlier melancholy melting beneath their affection.
“Don’t mind me. I’m just over here in Eldorra, not jealous at all,” Bridget said.
I raised my phone so we could see her again. She wore a half-amused, half-envious expression.
“You need to visit us soon. We miss you.”
We hadn’t seen her in person since Ava’s birthday last year, when she’d surprised us at the party.
“I will, I promise.” Bridget grew serious. “In the meantime, be careful with Christian. He’s not the type of man who does anything out of the goodness of his heart.”
No, he wasn’t. But I didn’t need Bridget to tell me that.
After my friends left an hour later with promises not to tell anyone, including their significant others, about my deal with Christian, I showered and brewed myself a fresh pot of tea before I finally picked up my phone. I stared at the Instagram icon on my screen and held my breath as I tapped into my profile.
Oh. My. God.
I stared at my numbers, sure I was hallucinating.
Over one hundred thousand likes, four thousand comments, and ten thousand new followers overnight.
I pinched myself and flinched at the sharp burst of pain. Not hallucinating.
I’d expected good engagement on the photo with Christian, but I hadn’t expected this.
Giddiness ballooned in my chest while my mind raced with possibilities.
Would another photo with Christian go viral in a similar manner, or was this a one-off because it was the first one?
There was only one way to find out.
Visions of a million followers, six-figure brand deals, and paying an entire year’s worth of Maura’s care in one go with savings left over danced in my head.
Maybe I’d signed a deal with the devil when I agreed to my arrangement with Christian…
But that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth it.