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“I will need the money,” she corrects herself. “Eventually. After I run through the money I’m making offyou.”
“That’s what, two, three years away? Why not use that time to focus on writing your next novel?” I prompt. “Then, if it doesn’t sell, you can go back to helping people write their memoirs.”
She hugs herself. “But what if this opportunity doesn’t come again? And I turn it down to write another novel no one wants to buy?”
“What if this is your chance to finally focus and write the novel every publisher’s going to clammer to buy?” I counter. “But you pass it up in favor of a career path that won’t actually make you happy?”
Hazel makes a frustrated sound and buries her hands in her hair. “It sounds so simple when you say it like that. But...”
“But what?”
“But what if I’m not good enough?”
“Hey.” I take her by the shoulders and turn her so that I can look her in the eye. “It’s true, you can’t control whether or not some publisher decides to buy your next book. Sometimes people tell you no.”
“You suck at pep talks,” Hazel huffs.
“The point is, if you’re so scared of rejection that you say no to yourself, that you take yourself out of the game before you can even write the damn book...well, I guess you protect your heart.” I shrug one shoulder. “Some people need to play it safe. But I don’t think that’s you. I think you’re hungry to take the risk.”
She’s searching my face, like she wants to believe what I’m saying but is scared to.
“I mean, you already faked a marriage to buy yourself the resources and time you need to write your novel,” I remind her. “Are you really going to flush that all down the drain by taking a job that will keep you too busy to work on your own dream?”
Still, she hesitates.
“Ok.” I release her and step back. “I obviously think you deserve to take a risk on yourself. But this is your decision, not mine. Here’s what you’re going to do. Close your eyes.”
She looks at me suspiciously. “Why?”
“So I can put a worm in your hands,” I say sarcastically. “Come on, just do it.”
She sighs but follows my directions.
“Ok. Imagine that you lost out on the opportunity to become the biggest thing in celebrity autobiography writing.”
She snorts out a laugh.
I grin. “Good. Ok. Now imagine you lost out on the opportunity to write a novel you’re going to absolutely love. It’s the kind of thing that fulfills you creatively and takes your writing to the next level. But you missed out on writing it because you were too busy.”
The smile falls from her face.
“Which opportunity would you be more upset about missing out on?”
When she opens her eyes, I know she has her answer.
On impulse, I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know careers can get complicated. But as long as you’re married to me, you don’t need to be practical. You can go after what you want.”
For a second she just stares at me.
And then she launches herself into my arms, burying her face in my chest. “Thank you. No one’s ever...no one’s ever given that to me before.”
“I mean, you’re earning it,” I joke, because it feelswaytoo good to have her in my arms. “I intend to be a demanding husband. I’ll need you to dress up in my favorite team’s jersey and serve me and my friends buffalo wings while we watch the game.”
She pulls away and whaps me in the shoulder. “Asshole.”
I grin, unrepentant.
“I’m going to go text Sarah I don’t want the job before I lose my nerve. Then I’m going to turn off my phone so she can’t talk me back into it,” Hazel says.
