Page 75 of So Not My Thing
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. But the business stuff...”
“He gets a commission.” I was beginning to understand their dynamic now.
“Bingo. And I don’t mind,” he hurried to add as if to head off any of my objections. Which to be fair, I had. Loads of them. “It’s an easy way to take care of him without either of us feeling like it’s charity. But when he tells you that I shouldn’t be distracted, it’s because he misses the LA scene, the power players, and the lifestyle. I don’t. He doesn’t get that. He thinks it’s a phase I’ll get over. I won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Is loving the Bywater a phase for you? Or doing commercial real estate?”
“Of course not.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I—” But I shut my mouth. How did I know? “I have roots here. Helping this city become the best it can be is my passion. It’s not the kind of thing you grow out of.”
“Neither is music. My style and taste may change, but the need to be around it?” He shook his head. “That never changes. And don’t forget, my roots are here too. Why else would I have felt called back to it?”
“Point taken.” It was true; I could sense in him the same love and connection I felt for the city, and I had no reason to doubt him except Aaron’s words.
“Ignore Aaron.” He leaned forward, his eyes now searching mine. “If it weren’t for him telling you to stay away, would you still be coming by to offer opinions?”
The honest answer was that Aaron had done me a favor, and even though every day felt incomplete when I didn’t see Miles, I needed that distance. When I didn’t answer immediately, Miles leaned closer. “Ellie?”
I couldn’t tell him any of that, but I also didn’t want to tell him why I needed to keep my distance. “That was the only reason,” I lied.
His face relaxed, the faint lines around his eyes smoothing. “Cool. You definitely get the Bywater, and I feel like you get me.” My heart gave a traitorous lurch as he continued. “It’s been so useful having you double check me on stuff. Or put me in check when I need it.” He shook his head. “Faux exposed brick? What was I thinking?”
“You panicked. It’s fine. You made the right choice.”
“Thanks to you.”
