“I’m glad you see it that way. I didn’t make you the offer because I want an investor. I wantyou, Youssef. I’m...Well, I’m just going to come right out and say it. This business is what I leave to this industry, to the world. You know Liza and I don’t have kids, and I...Well, I...”
He clears his throat and stuffs his mouth with a huge forkful of beef, probably to assert that he hasn’t gone soft, but it doesn’t stop me from sitting there in stunned silence.
In a weird way, I’ve always thought of Jacob as a kind of second dad to me—a really grumpy dad who threatens me far too often, but a dad nonetheless. He’s been one of the steadiest things about my adult life, and he took a chance on training me to master when he could have hired plenty of people with actual experience. He showed me things about myself I never knew were there.
“Jacob, that’s—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He waves me off before I can keep going. “I just want you to know I’m not taking some smooth operator corporate guy coming in here on your behalf. I’m selling toyou. Better the devil you know, eh?”
He chuckles at his own backhanded compliment.
“Wow, Jacob. Thanks.”
I get up and start washing my mug, my mind still racing with the possibilities—and the consequences. I know I could still gig in Montreal if I was running this place, but the thrill of the big crowds, of knowing my music is creating a storm to be remembered in the places I can only reach by leaving this city—I’d be losing that. I’d be losing all the things I spent years dreaming about just when they’ve finally dropped into my hands. I’d be losing everything the people I love cheer me on about every day. That weight alone is heavy enough to make my shoulders slump.
“It’s just a lot to sacrifice, you know? I’ve been working for years on my music, and now with this EP—”
Jacob scoffs loud enough to fill the room. He’s about the only person in my life who makes his disdain for my EP clear—other than Paige, although she’s more subtle about it.
“Sacrifice is a strong word, Youssef.” I look over and see him waving his fork at me. “But who am I to tell you what’s a sacrifice and what’s not?”
I almost wish he would, but I know he’s right. That’s something only I can tell myself.
* * *
Paige meetsme on the sidewalk outside her building later that evening, just as dusk is starting to fall. She’s wearing a baggy, grey long-sleeved zip-up that almost reaches the knees of her black leggings. Her right arm is crossed over her chest in its sling, and she’s chewing on the nails of her left hand when she spots me.
It’s pretty adorable.
She’spretty adorable, and I get to take her out tonight. I don’t even know what we are to each other yet, but as that same buoyancy Jacob made fun of fills me up all over again, I don’t really care.
“Hey, wounded soldier,” I call as I jog the remaining few metres between us. “How is your ailing limb today?”
She fiddles with the edge of her sling. “I can’t wait to get this fucking thing off.”
“I don’t know. I think it’s a cute look for you,” I tease, knowing just how much she hates the word ‘cute.’
Sure enough, I earn myself a death glare. I raise my hands in surrender.
“Kidding, kidding. Forgive me for this grievous sin.”
She keeps glaring. “I’ll think about it.”
“So...” I lean my body in the direction we should be heading up the sidewalk. “Shall we?”
I start walking, but when I look back, I find her rooted to the spot.
“Paige?”
“Yeah, uh...” I watch her take a deep breath and close her eyes for a second. “I’m coming.”
She catches up with me, and I steal a few glances at her as we walk. Her mouth is set in a tight line, and I can practically feel the nerves radiating off her.
“You okay?” I ask when we’ve made it a block up towards Avenue Mont-Royal. We’re going to Taverne Toulouse tonight, since Nabil’s lady friend is meeting us after her shift across the street.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
She does not sound convincing.
