Page 75 of Stick to the Deal
“Two-Fifty. We still have the budget for a second edition and marketing as long as we hit two-hundred, though.” Daniel doesn’t even look up from his refreshing.
I grab for my coffee. The paper cup is lighter in my hand than I expected. The four more cups by it are equally empty. With a sigh, I slump back in my chair and massage my eyebrows. If this doesn’t work… Ok, in all reality I’ll be fine—I married an heiress, after all, with a booming career. But if this magazine isn’t a success, I don’t know what I’ll do next.
It will be something, though. I will not be a trophy husband. I finally escaped my parents’ noose of obligations and expectations to do something with myself, and it will not be rounds of golf and tanning on the penthouse deck.
The front door opens and closes with a bang. I lean back in my chair and see Nic with a stack of packages in her hand, and rush over to grab the pile.
“Thanks.” She leans in for a kiss and I follow her to the kitchen. “Any word?” she asks.
I shake my head as I unstack the boxes and lay them out one by one on the counter.
“Well,” she holds up two bottles, “I got champagne if it’s good news and vodka if it’s bad. And before you start pointing out that it’s not even ten a.m. yet, I also got orange juice.”
I laugh at the reminder of our first meeting and pull her in for a kiss. Having her against me heals more of the hole in my heart. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“Um, put up with years of abuse from your aristo-asshole parents so you’d have baggage that matched mine?” She tilts her head to the side with a mock thoughtful expression, but her eyes dance with humor. “Too soon?”
I growl at her and capture her smart mouth until she’s panting. My own lips smirk in masculine satisfaction at the effect I have on this magnificent woman.
Nic shakes her head as if clearing away the lust. Too quickly, she’s back to business. “Right.” She marches out to the dining room and claps her hands, startling the half awake people at the table. “Ok, you both need showers to wake you up. Tyra, I’ll grab you a clean shirt, dear. Bagels and pastries are in the kitchen and I’ll put a fresh pot of coffee on.” They stare at her, confused. “Well, go on then.”
As usual, Nic is right. The break refreshes us from the all-nighter staring at screens. There’s a renewed air of excitement as we sit back down.
“I, for one,” Nic says around her bagel, “think the edition came out great.” She holds up the glossy magazine with the other hand, the photograph I bought from her show on display.
“You’re on the cover,” Daniel points out. “You’re biased.”
She laughs. “Normally that makes me hate a magazine, but in this case, I’ll make an exception. I love the story about the dog shelter. Nothing like photos of needy dogs to get people to spend money—remember that commercial that ran for years!”
“My favorite was the interview with Lord Firth about their environmental changes. Especially the way you tied it to steps people can take at home,” Tyra says.
Daniel eyes the pastries before grabbing a cheese danish. “The Global Good News and Unsung Heroes posts have been trending well online. We could do more of those.”
“Let’s see how this edition goes first.” My phone beeps. I flip it over to see a message request on social media. I’m about to ignore it when my gut tells me to check. It’s from the absolute last person I expect—Kenzo.
Kenzo
Well done, mate. I’m serious.
What the bloody hell does that mean? I’m still squinting at the words when Tyra squeals across the table, nearly flipping her chair.
“Tyra, you alright?” Daniel looks as puzzled as I feel.
“Kenzo Star just posted a photo of him reading the magazine. The caption says, ‘this is the type of journalism we’ve been missing. Positivity. Honesty. Heart. How do I sign up for an interview?’”
Daniel and I share a shocked look.
“She’s right.” Nic holds her phone out to me with the post up. “It’s already at a thousand likes and dozens of comments asking where to find it.”
Daniel dives back to the laptop. “We have over a hundred subscribers, and it keeps going up.” His wide eyes meet mine. “We did it.”
Nic grabs me in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
It might be the first time I’ve heard the words before, and damn, they feel good. Especially from this self-made woman.
The champagne flows.
Nic slips into the kitchen and returns with a sheet cake that says ‘Congratulations’ on it. “Come on everyone, group photo. Stand in front of the bookcases with the magazine held up.” Nic poses us in groups and solo photos. We smile and laugh until our cheeks ache.
