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Josh was still buzzing from the weekend. It was like it used to be, but better. He was still having a little trouble believing it, but it had been incredible.
“Mr. Hunter. My office, now.” His mother’s sharp tone as she strolled by his desk caught him off guard.
Whatever she was upset about wasn’t going to ruin his morning. He grabbed a pen and notepad and followed.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked the instant the door swung shut behind him. She set her coffee mug on her desk and her purse in its assigned drawer, never making eye contact.
“Do you want a list, or is there a specific offense I’ve committed?" He kept his tone light.
She unpacked her laptop and set it on its docking station. “Aaron forwarded me an email this morning. A response to a Cease and Desist on the Changelings and Caravans game.”
How did he have that already? Josh had only forwarded it to his friend yesterday. Actually, why did Aaron have that at all? Josh kept the question to himself. Admitting he knew anything was a confession of guilt. “Okay?”
“I’ve been reading your papers since you were old enough to write. I’ve read a number of your legal briefs and letters. Her lawyer is one of your frat brothers.” She finally sat and fixed a glare on him.
All circumstantial evidence. But also, fuck. “And?”
“Are you an idiot? You can’t do things like this.” The tight edge that wove though her voice spoke to every time she’d lectured Josh throughout his life.
He wasn’t letting it get to him, and he wasn’t admitting guilt. “Like what?”
Laurie Hunter scrubbed her face. “I’m not in the mood to play games with you. Let’s assume you’re going to continue to deny this and that I’m going to continue to not believe your bullshit.”
Lovely. Not. Then why pretend? “Why does Aaron have a response sent to someone who isn’t related at all to this firm?”
“Our client is licensing rights to publish a product someone else is making a claim on. This has everything to do with us.”
“It doesn’t.” Josh didn’t like this. “Sydney is handling it. It’s not a legitimate claim. Why does Aaron have that letter?”
“Even if you don’t care how this reflects on our firm, she’s dating your roommate. It’s time to move on.”
“Right.” Josh should counter her complete and total deflection of his question, but she’d tripped him up. He hadn’t considered the fallout of their relationship this weekend. If they kept going long term, all three of them, how was he supposed to explain it?
“Right? Is she or isn’t she?”
“She definitely is. Dylan is absolutely devoted to Sydney.”
“Good. Great. Let her ruin his life instead of yours.”
Anger surged inside, white-hot and obliterating any reason in its path. “Excuse me?” He didn’t know what made him more furious—the comment about Sydney, or the complete disregard for Dylan. “Sydney is talented and creative and brilliant, and Dylan is one of the best fucking junior attorneys you’ve ever had.”
His mother’s eyes narrowed. “And here’s the problem. You should be one of the best I’ve ever had. But that girl got under your skin and fucked with your head. She almost talked you out of law school.”
Josh didn’t try to suppress his growl. “No. I almost talked me out of law school. I didn’t know if I wanted to spend another three years in a classroom, for something I wasn’t going to use.”
“And she left, and you figured out you were wrong.”
“I wasn’t wrong. I just had the wrong goal in mind.”
She twisted her mouth in that sideways irritated way that meant this argument would only get worse. “And what goal is that?”
Working here. “Did you know she was the other party in this negotiation?”
“Yes.”
Josh clenched a fist. “Is that why you pulled me?”
Now his mother was smiling. That eerie, cold kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. When he was younger, it would have chilled him. Now it cranked the heat another notch higher on his anger.
“I’ve done everything to prepare you for this job. And that includes keeping her out of your path,” she said.
The late nights of work emergencies. The missed, super important dates. No. She couldn’t mean that.
“You could have trusted me to decide on my own.”
“Not if that decision included throwing away your future for something frivolous. I’ve done all of this for you. We’re having this conversation for you. So that you don’t destroy your legacy.”
Josh had been hearing that all his life. He’d taken it to heart. Sydney’s voice echoed in his thoughts—For a job you don’t even want.
But he’d done what he was supposed to. Gone to law school. Passed his bar. Put in the hours. Surrendered the woman he loved...
Sydney was right. It was all for something he didn’t want to be doing. Not here. Not like this. “No. This wasn’t for me. It was all for you.”
His mother’s face contorted with rage, and her skin was blotched and red. “You ungrateful, selfish—”
“No. I’m not.” He stood. “I appreciate everything you’ve given me, and I agonize over every single decision I know will disappoint you. I also don’t work for you anymore. Consider this my resignation.” His thoughts fluctuated between anger and apathy. He should be nervous or scared by what he was doing. Instead, calm was settling in. “And not that it’s ever been your business, but I am seeing Sydney again. So’s Dylan. And we’re all okay with that.”
An icy mask slid into place, more concerning that her fury. “Clean your desk and get the fuck out of my office. Now.”
“Of course, Ms. Hunter. Have a lovely day.” Josh didn’t slam the door. He let it swing shut softly behind him as he strolled away.
He didn’t know what to make of his thoughts...Which feeling to focus on. He could scream—at himself or his mother—or laugh at the sense of relief that threatened his thoughts. Cry. Curse three years in law school just to wind up here.
He swallowed it all for the moment. Any reaction would wait until he left the office.
Josh was shoving the last of his belongings into a box, when Dylan approached.
“What are you doing?” Dylan’s voice was low.
Josh shrugged. Could he talk without unleashing the flood of confusion that roared inside? “What’s it look like?”
Dylan furrowed his brow. He liked it here. There was no reason to drag him down.
“I’ll text you.” Josh grabbed his stuff and walked toward the stairs.
He was shaking by the time he slid into his car. The yell he expected to tear free wouldn’t come. He pressed his forehead into the cool steering wheel and took several deep breaths.
The action didn’t help him sort out his head, but it helped him unclench his fists.
Now what?
Go back upstairs and apologize? Beg for his job back? Reach out directly to the publisher and ask for a chance to work for them, despite the way he left his last job?
Start drinking at eight in the morning?
Josh didn’t know. And the thing that scared him the most was he wasn’t worried about it.
*
SYDNEY WAS DOING HER best not to fidget, as she waited to be shown into a conference room.
She shouldn't be as nervous as last time—Dylan and Josh went over the entire contract with her yesterday. Not that she’d tell anyone about their help. That wasn’t a relationship line they’d completely obliterated.
None of what they told her was unexpected. The offer was an advance against royalties, to distribute her game. It was a good advance, too. Enough to keep her solvent for a couple of years, and hopefully give the game time to earn out, and maybe she could pitch them her next idea as well.
And this was the big day. She was surrendering some of her control to this publisher. It meant more money, more support, and with a little luck, more contracts in the future. It was still new and scary, though.
Sydney wanted to wander by Dylan’s and Josh’s desks while she waited. Say hi. Chat for a few minutes and maybe take her mind off the morning.
She wouldn’t put them in that position. They’d be available after work.
“Ms. Brimhall? They’re ready for you.” A man about her age showed her back to the same conference room they’d been in before.
She resisted the urge to crane her neck for a glimpse of either of her guys.
Her guys. The phrase was enough to let a tiny smile poke through the tension. This weekend had been incredible. In some ways, she had a hard time believing it was real. If she could keep the memories hovering in her mind without blushing through this meeting, it would help her stay calm.
Dylan wasn’t in here today. Not that she was surprised.
After a round of handshakes and polite conversation, they got down to business. Aaron Jorgensen handed her the contract and a pen, and asked if she had any final questions.
She tried to read everything though again, telling herself Aaron’s fingers drumming on the table had nothing to do with her going slowly. Her eyes glazed over after two or three pages.
She settled for skimming the rest, mostly for show. It made her look more professional, didn’t it?
And then it was over. Weeks of stress and worrying, just to be done with the final step in less than half an hour.
She shook everyone’s hands again. Josh had told her that while it wasn’t in the contract, and she didn’t hear it from him, that she should drop the hint that she had more ideas.
She reached their art director. “I’m looking forward to discussing future ideas with you.”
“That won’t be necessary.” His tone was cool, and his expression cold. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
Oh. Sydney’s smile froze in place, and a response stuck in her throat. Was that a brush-off? From the company who was distributing her game?
“Thank you again for coming down here, Ms. Brimhall.” Aaron showed her from the room and walked her to the elevator. “Have a wonderful day.”
Why did she feel like she’d just been pushed aside in a not-good way? Was the clenching in her gut the tail end of nerves?
She checked her messages as she rode the lift down to the parking garage. One from Dylan said Congratulations.
The other, from Josh, said, Call me when you’re done. We’ll get late breakfast.
Shouldn’t he be working?
She settled into her car. The churning in her gut was worse now. Something was wrong. Josh would have to wait a few minutes.
She pulled the contract from her briefcase.
The first few pages were what she expected. And that eyes-glazing-over feeling was back. This time, she was reading the whole thing.
When she got to the section about rights, her gut sank. Work for hire. The phrase glared at her like it was written in neon. She read the section over and over. There was nothing in here about an advance. About royalties.
If she was reading this right, it said she’s just surrendered her game and its characters in their entirety to the distributors.
This wasn’t what she’d reviewed with Josh and Dylan. She had to be reading it wrong. She wouldn’t have signed this. She’d turned down similar offers in the past.
It didn’t matter how many times she read it. It still said Work for hire.
This was bullshit. Confusion and doubt gave way to anger. They had her sign a different contract than the one she’d reviewed.
Sydney needed to undo this. She headed back upstairs.
“May I help you, Miss?” The same man who had shown her to her meeting was working the reception desk.
She’d be polite and cool about this. She wouldn’t freak out without proof. “I think there’s an issue with the contract I just signed. I’d like to speak to Aaron Jorgensen or someone else who can help me.”
“I see. Are you a client?”
“No. But I was just here. You saw me.”
He shook his head. “We can’t offer legal advice to people who aren’t our clients. I’m sorry. You’ll need to speak with your own attorney.”
“My attorney didn’t prepare this contract.” She struggled to keep her frustration from bleeding into something more intense. “I’d like to speak with the person who did.”
“We don’t do that. I’m sorry. You can have your lawyer schedule a time with someone here if there are concerns. We can’t help you if you’re not a client.”
Was she not making herself clear? “This doesn’t have anything to do with whether or not I pay someone here. I just want to speak with one of the people who prepared this contract.” She could ask for Josh or Dylan, but she didn’t want to get them in trouble.
“We can’t help you.” He turned back to his computer.
She slammed her palm on the reception counter. “Just let me talk to someone!” The shout came out without her permission, but she didn’t want to take it back.
“You need to leave.”
“You pulled a fucking bait and switch.” Now that she was yelling, she couldn’t stop. “I need to speak with someone here, or I’ll sue your asses off.” Which she couldn’t even begin to afford, but it sounded good.
“Then your lawyer can call us.” His voice wavered.
“Is there a problem, Ms. Brimhall?” Laurie Hunter’s voice drew Sydney’s attention. She stood a few feet away, watching Sydney with a venom-filled glare.
Sydney swallowed the impulse that was always there to cower in front of this woman. “This contract isn’t the one I was given to review. It was swapped for a bullshit version I never would have signed if I’d known.”
“Did you read this one before you signed it?”
Sydney clenched her jaw and struggled to ignore the embarrassed, awkward girl who wanted to emerge. “I glanced at it.”
“Then you knew what it contained. We’re not responsible for seller’s remorse, especially when you’re not our client. You need to leave.”
“I just want you to hear me out.” Sydney’s retort came out as more of a plea than a demand.
Someone loosely grabbed her arm. A man in a security uniform had stepped up next to her. “Miss, please come with me.”
Humiliation mingled with her fury. She wanted to break away and throw a tantrum until they listened. It wouldn’t do her any good. “Fine. But we’re not done.”
“Yes we are, Sydney. Don’t come back here. Next time, I’ll call the police.” A strong threat wove through Laurie’s reply.
Sydney blinked back the tears that pricked her eyelids as she stepped onto the elevator for the five-billionth time that day, this time with Security by her side.
Josh wanted to meet up. He could help her figure this out.
Unless he was in on it.
She growled mentally at the doubt and refused to give it any attention.
Because you know it’s possible.
No. She wasn’t listening. La la la la.
They reached her car, and the security guy waited near the hood. Was he going to stand there until she left?
He crossed his arms.
Apparently so.
She was going to cry. And then be sick. And then cry some more.