Page 96 of Beni

And that they couldn’t afford her.

Or she couldn’t afford them.

“They’re not going to use my voice and platform for a good cause,” she said, “and I have to consider if that’s what I want, regardless of how much they’re willing to pay me. You know what I mean?”

“Sort of,” Beni agreed. “It depends on what you want, though, not them.”

“That’s the point.”

“I get it.”

She pulled in traffic. Her words, and articles, and socials gathered more followers by the day. The stats on her online articles were some of the highest the magazine had ever received. They had a place for her on the team.

And yet, she still knew the truth.

They would make final decisions on her work. They would decide what she could and couldn’t write, regardless of her intentions or wants. Her work wouldn’t be used to better struggling communities like she had hoped, and she had the distinct feeling her words would soon become a click-bait mess. She’d be given assignments to write that had little to do with what she wanted to cover, but more about what would draw in traffic—good or bad—for revenue. She understood this was a business, but that didn’t mean it had to skew her morals, too.

Not what she wanted at all.

“You’ll get it figured out, I’m sure,” Beni said. “You’re too driven in what you want to be stuck for too long in one place, overthinking. And if they haven’t figured out they should bend over backwards to give you what you want by now, then they are fucking stupid. Sounds like a them problem, and not a you problem. You know what I mean?”

She did.

Beyond that, August appreciated the effort Beni put in not to pressure her one way or another when it came to her job, the offer in Chicago, or moving. In fact, in all their conversations—a couple a day since she arrived home—he hadn’t once brought up any of those things unless she did it first. And even then, he was very careful about letting her know it was always going to be her choice, and he wasn’t going to sway her one way or the other.

Not that it mattered.

Everything he did swayed her.

“So, next weekend,” he said.

August grinned, knowing exactly what he was hinting at. “What about it?”

“Still catching that flight to see me?”

“I definitely am.”

Unquestionably.

And while there … August was going to make some choices. She didn’t think they would be easy, and yeah, they were going to be a risk.

Was it worth it, though?

She wouldn’t know unless she tried.

Beni hung up the phone, effectively ending his conversation with August, although he had waited for her to end it first. Leaning back in the torn booth of a rundown bar, with what he imagined was a stupid fucking smile on his face—because that’s just what that woman did to him with nothing more than a phone call—as he surveyed his shitty surroundings. The conversation with August was enough to make up for the fact that this building smelled like goddamn mildew.

Well, almost.

He still wasn’t even sure why he was here.

His companion chuckled across the shoddy booth, bringing Beni’s attention to him for the moment. With his booted feet kicked up on the edge of a chipped table, Cory Rossi arched a brow like he was asking a question without saying what it was.

Beni stared back, unaffected. “Problem?”

“Just never thought I would see the day, man, that’s all.”

He didn’t like where this conversation was going, but because he was apparently feeling stupid today, Beni decided to ask.