“Tonight? Why? Please tell me it’s not the woman from the spa you met months ago. If it’s her, I’m…busy.”
“Don’t you dare act like you have plans beyond going home, turning on a movie, ignoring your art, and jerking off to free porn on your neighbor’s internet. Do not leave me hanging, James ‘JimJam’ Barton.”
“Ouch. Only Coop gets to call me that.” I pretend that I’m hurt, putting a hand on my chest and spinning on my heel dramatically as I back away. “Besides, I don’t need free porn tonight.” I spread my arms out wide, spinning in a circle as I yell back, “I have the cafe goddess of my dreams who will probably never say anything beyond ‘thank you’ to me. That’s all I need!”
“Gross, Barton!”
I’m not completely jaded. I could stalk the cafe for a month and I’d never go beyond admiring her from a distance. I’ll never again work up the nerve to approach her. I’ll have a million excuses lined up before she walked in the door. With my luck, she’d walk in on the arm of some buff movie actor boyfriend. Fuck, she’s probably already dating Chase Cooper somehow.
“So that’s yes?”
I walk back over to her desk, pretending I’ll turn her down and knowing I likely won’t. “Possibly. Let me see how this meeting with Sam goes and if I can somehow avoid telling you her name.”
“You have her name?! What is it, you fucker?” She leans over her desk, trying to grab for my tie, but there’s not enough showing and I dodge her.
“And that’s why I wear a vest. To thwart your grabby hands.”
She huffs at first, but it’s followed by a cackle of a laugh. “You and your poetic bullshit. I promise it will be worth your time tonight. Meet me there; I’ll text you the address. We’ll talk about your boba girl.”
“She’s so much more than a boba girl, Dani. She’s my muse.” I stop, cognizant of the idiotic grin on my face. “My damn fingers are itching for my sketchpad. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to make something, but now? I can’t shake it!”
“This is why I told you to carry that thing with you. You’re a terrible artist, dude.”
“Hey! I left it in the damn Jeep. I didn’t think I’d need it for a drop off.” I check my watch. “Shit, I really need to get back there before Sam hires someone else.”
“Sam wouldn’t do that to you, dummy.” She rests her hand on my arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. I love Dani, and in another life, we could have been fun together—under extremely different circumstances. But our friendship is still pretty special. She’s like a sister to me now. An annoying, nosey, matchmaking sister.
“Grasp the opportunity, Jamie! You really should ask him about a full-time spot. I get that you’re worried about the design programs, but he wouldn’t hire you for that. Plus, we have all these great people here who would absolutely help you if you wanted to learn them.”
“Yeah, I’ll think about it, Dani.” I lean in and give her a quick peck on the cheek.
“Barton code for not going to happen. What about tonight?”
I back away toward the elevators, “Can’t really go out drinking if I’m broke.”
“Free drinks till eleven! It’s a creative mixer, so plenty of people to help you find more work.” She leans around the corner and shouts, “Plus, Sam is extending your contract, you idiot! So you better come out and live a little, loser!”
“Thanks, jerk!” I disappear around the corner with a wave before she can yell anything else.
* * *
“Jamie, you good, man?”
“Huh?” I glance up from the check in my hand. I wish I knew how he did that. Considering I never got the chance to ask for more money. It’s like he knows, and I’m now sure he has my house bugged.
“I asked if you had any issues with the list of shots they wanted to get. I’m well aware it’s a bit scattered, but this is LA, baby, and it’s the right time of year. A few hours in either direction and we can go from sunsets on the beach to snowboarding. Right?”
“Oh, yeah.” I stare down at the piece of paper in my hand. Beach Daytime, Beach Early Morning, Aquarium, Wild Marine Life, Mountains Distance, Mountain Road, Rivers, City Life Daytime… the list continued on and on. Stock photography sites would have plenty of these images, but they want original. So, who am I to argue? “I, uhm, I might need to travel overnight for a couple of these so I can get to multiple locations in one day.”
“No worries, we’ve got that covered. You can book the hotels in advance, have Dani book them, or you can always invoice me after.” Sam laughed. “Don’t forget to make sure you book two rooms. I want Lex to go on some of these trips with you to get a solid appreciation for these places. I’m looking to make these mood boards more than pictures on a wall for this, and she’s got a great eye for interactive elements. It’s got to look better than a google search, more authentic.”
My brain has done about fifteen record scratches DJs do.Did? I’m not sure that’s even a thing they do anymore. Outside of a wedding or two, I try to avoid places with DJs.
Sam expects me to work with someone? Shit.
“Fantastic.”
Sam goes over numbers with me; I’m not listening, already lost. Sam has become accustomed to me phasing out during the budget discussions. I’m not a numbers guy, and I’m not a negotiator. It’s why I’m a terrible freelancer and can’t make ends meet. A job I should charge two grand on will lowball me at five hundred, and I’ll shake their hand and fucking thank them for it. It wasn’t always like this, but working a job to make ends meet as an artist takes a toll. Like most things in my life lately, I’ve given up the fight.
