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“So what?”
“Fitz—”
“Look, how about this? You work on building some buzz around your group—get the tastemakers and Instagrammers and bloggers there—then put together some videos, a good business proposal, and I bet I can help you get investors. You don’t have connections, but I do,” he said, dropping the statement like it was a nothing sentence when it was, in fact, a big, whoppingsomething.
“What? Why would you do that?”
Fitz swigged his coffee again and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? You were cool to me when everyone else treated me like I had a disease. And foster kids have to look out for each other. We don’t get the benefit of family connections.” He set down his cup. “Plus, my clients are people our age who are looking to invest in start-ups. Some of them are locals who want to be part of the city’s new scene. It could help me, too. I can’t make any promises, obviously, but if you can build some buzz and put together a business plan with some numbers, I could pass it along to a few people.”
Numbers. Business plans.Those words sent shudders of dread though Jasper. He stared at his friend. “Fitz, you’re insane.”
“And?”
Jasper groaned, the look on his old friend’s face too Labrador-retriever-eager to shut down. “And I’ll think about it.”
Fitz lifted his arms over his head like he was calling a successful field goal. “Awesome. Jasper Anderson is in the house.”
Jasper choked on a laugh. “It’s Jasper Deares now. And you did not just say I’m ‘in the house.’ I no longer feel comfortable working with you. I’m sorry this partnership must end before it begins.”
Fitz flipped him off. “Go to hell, Jas. You’re going to love me by the end of this.”
“Aww, Fitz, don’t sell yourself short. You don’t have to buy my love with favors,” he teased. “Straight-up cash is so much easier.”
Fitz put his hand in his pocket and then dropped two quarters and a cough drop on the counter. “That should cover what that’s worth.”
“Ha.” Jasper nodded approvingly at the quick comeback. “Be careful. If I see that you’re any good, I’ll pull your ass up onstage with us.”
“Hell no. That improv shit is terrifying.” Fitz grabbed the sugar canister and dumped more into his coffee. “But I do want tickets to a show so I can see your group in action. I need to know what I’m helping pitch. If you suck, I’m out.”
“I’ll text you some dates and leave your name at the door with an open invitation.”
Jasper needed to shut up. This wasn’t happening. Fitz was selling him some oceanfront property in Arizona. Who would want to invest in him? Pay a few bucks to see him act like an idiot onstage and make people laugh? Sure. That, people would do. Convince businesspeople that the hyper dude who dropped out of college because he couldn’t pass a math class was capable of handling their money and running a business? No freaking way.
Hewouldn’t invest in him. How could he ever expect other people would?
Hell, he couldn’t even get the woman upstairs to trust him to make her coffee.
He promised Fitz that he would text him, but when he ended his shift for the day, Jasper vowed to put the ridiculous idea out of his mind.
He was done going down dead-end roads.
