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Eli: …I’m going to bed.
Liz: Before you do, I’m forwarding a proposal. And don’t say no immediately! I know you prefer lone wolf dev life, but this opportunity could be life-changing. For both of us.
That was enough to pique his interest, so he opened his laptop and skimmed through the documents.
Dear Ms. Fielding,
As Mr. Reese’s legal representative, we hope you’ll facilitate a meeting between us. We’re looking to enter the social media market, and to that end, we’ve researched the best possible candidates to head up this project. We love what we see in What’s Cooking and feel that Mr. Reese could provide exactly what we’re looking for. I have attached a project overview and look forward to discussing the matter further.
Sincerely,
Kelsey Grant
Executive Assistant
Eli clicked through the attachments, and when he saw the proposed budget, his eyes widened. This wasn’t just an app; they wanted a whole new social media platform with cross-compatibility and the potential to change how people spent their time online. It was an ambitious undertaking but also a risky one, as there was no guarantee a new platform would take off.
Liz was right, though. He loathed the idea of working for someone else, but it felt wasteful to trash this opportunity without even hearing them out. Before he could change his mind, he texted her.
Eli: Fine. I’ll talk to them.
Liz: Awesome. I’m raising my billable rate when you start making Gates money.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Iris woke at 9:23 a.m.without needing an alarm.
She was sleeping well these days, comfortable in a way she’d rarely been anywhere else. Both Eli and Henry Dale were good housemates so far; they never left dishes in the sink, and they didn’t scatter their belongings in the common area. If everyone else was as conscientious, this would be a successful endeavor.
Without a schedule, she’d taken to showering at night since Henry Dale used the bathroom practically at dawn and Eli went in a bit later. Iris didn’t mind either way. Really, she needed another bathroom with a shower, but in a house this old, she was lucky to have even a half bath on the first floor and the full bath on the second.
She put on comfy clothes that would serve for the trip to the hardware store and for painting afterward, then she headed to the kitchen for more oatmeal. This bowl she topped with frozen berries, making the flavor a little different at least. She didn’t mind eating the same food every day, especially if it meant not telling her family that she was having trouble making ends meet. Iris would rather eat oatmeal three times a day than get in touch withher family. But of course, as if she’d manifested the call, her phone rang anyway before she finished eating.
Her dad sounded perpetually vague, untethered to reality. Instead, he lived in the past, forever buried in texts from ancient Rome. “I haven’t heard from you in a while, flower. Your mother said you’re sulking over that boy Lily is dating. Is there something I should know?”
She stifled a sigh. “I was dating him first, Dad.”
“Oh! Well, that’s not right. Is that why you boycotted Rose’s party? I do understand where you’re coming from, but…as your mother says, aren’t you punishing Rose for something Lily did?”
She wondered if anyone would ever take her side unconditionally. “I’m not even living in Ohio anymore, Dad. I inherited Great-Aunt Gertie’s house in St. Claire.”
There was a significant pause. “Hmm. Did your mother tell me that?”
“How would I know?” she asked with gentle exasperation.
“Then if I understand correctly, your mother and sisters are making mountains out of molehills again.”
“In my opinion, yes.”
“I’ll see if I can smooth things over then. Do you need anything? Is Gertie’s place in livable condition?”
The offer was so tempting because her dad would send her money if she asked, but he’d go through her mother since she controlled the purse strings. Dad didn’t earn a whole lot writing scholarly articles about ancient Rome and Greece, and he’d lost his professor post due to a lamentable tendency to forget that he was supposed to be teaching and giving lectures.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“Love you, flower. Sorry you always end up in the center of all the drama.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
