Page 54 of Animal Beats

Her mouth opens several times before she speaks. “Because you don’t think twice about how much things cost, you simply buy whatever it is. A plane ride, a hotel night⁠—”

“A dress.”

“A pricey dress from a European boutique,” she corrects. “In my life, every penny is counted. You live a different lifestyle.”

How can I make her understand? “Listen to me, Babysitter. I’m in a profession that rewards me very well. You came with me to an awards ceremony, where I received a Lifetime Achievement Award for playing drums. I love what I do and don’t consider it to be work, so I know I’m blessed. But playing drums for three hours, minimum, night after night is taxing. Always being on for fans is taxing. Keeping in shape at the gym is taxing. I don’t take any of this for granted.” My explanation lingers in the room.

“You know, you’re right. I was basing my decisions on the value I’ve assigned to money all my life. In your job, you make a lot, so why not spend it?”

I push her hair away from her face. “I’ve saved a big chunk. Plus, donated a good portion. I’m not a spendthrift”—that title was earned by 007 following our original keyboardist’s death, but I don’t share this truth—“yet I have no idea when this gravy train will end. I thought it was over when Darren died, but our fans wouldn’t let us disappear. I’m grateful to still be playing big stadiums, but I’d be just as happy at smaller venues.”

“For me, money has always been tight. With my sister’s, uhm, requirements, any excess funds went to her schooling or doctors. My parents scrimped to put me through a local college. I was supposed to use my degree to help pay back some debts.”

“Hey.” I place my hand on her thigh. “I’m sorry they were in that accident. It’s so unfair.”

She swallows. “It is. They left a small life insurance policy, which is basically all gone. Mila’s next semester’s tuition is due soon, which is what Mrs. Smitty wanted to discuss with me.”

If she needs money, I can cover her. I open my mouth, but she continues, “I told her I’ll pay the bill on time. It’s what comes after Mila graduates that scares me.”

“Can’t she stay at Haverford?”

“No. She’s aging out next semester. There’s an affiliated group home where many of her friends transition to next, which is where she wants to go.”

“Can you swing it?”

Hayden blinks. “I believe so. Now you know why I’m always so careful about money. Mila comes first.”

Hayden’s situation is different from mine. Despite everything, Pop made a lot of money so I never had to wonder if we had enough. I hate that money is her biggest worry. On the other hand, love is not. This emotion is something she wins over me in a landslide. Her sister clearly adores her, and from what she’s shared, she had a wonderful relationship with her parents, too.

I bump her shoulder. “Trade you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Money can be made like this.” I snap my fingers. “The love you have with your family cannot.”

“I never thought of it in these terms.” Her body turns toward me. “I’ve been so busy worrying about money—saving it, not spending it, earning more—that I’ve never considered anything else.”

“You have a terrific job doing UC’s PR. You’re well respected by the band. Hell, Jenna can’t stop singing your praises.”

“She’s great. She’s also downplaying how much she put into the media plan. Don’t let Jenna sell herself short.”

I can’t help myself, but I lean forward and kiss her. “Another reason why you intrigue me, Babysitter. You always allow others to take credit for your work.”

Her cheeks pinken. “I’m telling the truth. Jenna only needed a few pointers.”

“Which you expertly provided. Bennett told us what you did for her physical therapy clinics. You should be proud.”

“I was pretty excited at how the strategy worked.” She shifts in her seat. “Thank you, Mr. River.” She smiles. “For opening my eyes to things I’ve been ignoring. Money isn’t everything.”

Her phone lights up, drawing her attention away from me. “What’s up?”

“A few more comments on the post I put up yesterday with the cheesesteaks.” She turns her screen toward me.

I ignore the comments, but concentrate on the photos instead. “These are good.”

“What?”

“Your pictures. If you want to make a few extra bucks, you could offer your photography skills on the side. Once UC’s PR is under control, of course.”