Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Well, this and about a thousand other reasons.”
She wraps her arms around my neck. “Better.” She brushes her lips across mine.
I still haven’t told her about my mother, but this was significant for me.
“I need to get ready for my dinner with Eugenie,” she says.
I nod. “I’m sorry I can’t join you.”
“Are you sure? I really want you there.”
“I wish I could, but there’s something that needs my immediate attention.” I’m not looking forward to it, but it has to be done.
She sighs. “Okay, but I have to tell you something first.”
“What’s that?”
“I made a decision about my work with Eugenie and Susie Girl without talking to you first.”
I open my mouth, but she gestures me not to talk.
“Please. Just let me finish. I really wanted to talk to you about all of it, but you’re always so busy, and I think I made the right decision.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“You know what? I know I did.”
“So what happened?”
“Have you been reading Instagram posts lately?”
“I never miss one.”
Her cheeks redden. “Really?”
“Of course not. Your posts are a big part of your life, Skye. I may hate social media, but I love you. I read every one.”
“Wow.” She shakes her head. “Just…wow.”
“I’m not sure why that surprises you.”
“I suppose… I guess it doesn’t.” She clears her throat. “Anyway, I’ve been using these two new hashtags. Susieglow and simplyskye.”
I nod. “I love simplyskye. It fits you.”
“Yeah, I love it, too, and apparently so do Eugenie and the team at Susanne.” She exhales. “They wanted to buy the rights to both of them from me and trademark them.”
I lift an eyebrow. I don’t like the idea of Skye giving up any more of her creative rights than she already has.
“So,” she continues, “I thought about it. They offered me ten grand each, so I had to think about it, Braden.”
I nod. Ten grand is like ten cents to me, but to Skye, it’s still a fortune in her mind.
“By the way,” she says with an eye roll, “Eugenie is simply thrilled that you and I worked things out.”
“Skye…”
“No. It’s okay. I get that being with you helps me as an influencer. I’d be a fool to waste the opportunity, as you always say. But that’s important. I made a decision that I would sell the rights to Susieglow but not to simplyskye. I told Eugenie I’d need to use simplyskye with other businesses and also for my personal posts.”
“And what did she say?”
“She tried to talk me out of it. Gave me a guilt trip about how they’d have to redo all the paperwork.”
“And…?”
“And”—she smiles—“I held firm. She said simplyskye was a gold mine, but I figured it should be my gold mine. I wanted to call you, and I almost did, but then I decided I had to rely on my own instincts for this.”
“Good for you. You shouldn’t sell simplyskye. It’s yours.”
“And Susieglow?”
“I’m okay with that,” I say. “You wouldn’t be using it for anything other than your work with Susanne anyway. Companies pay for creations all the time.”
Skye looks visibly relieved that I agree with her decision. And that’s okay. She’ll eventually have enough confidence in herself that she won’t need my approval.
“How did the rest of it go?” I ask.
“The meeting about the new color campaign?”
I nod.
“It went great. The team is awesome, and I got the final say on the color. It was amazing!”
I give her a searing kiss. “I have to go. I’m sorry. The limo is downstairs and will take you to dinner when you’re ready.”
“I understand. And thanks.”
“For what?”
“For trusting me.”
I nod briefly, and within a few seconds, I’m in the elevator heading down.
I’m not looking forward to this.
But it has to be done.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Sometimes I wish I were still broke, living in South Boston, making an honest living in construction working for my father.
Those times are few and far between, of course, as an infinite amount of money can solve a lot of problems.
However, no amount of money makes dealing with some things any less unpleasant.
I wait in the back room of an Italian restaurant in Little Italy on Mulberry Street in Lower Manhattan. Mama Louisa makes a ziti to die for, and I’m enjoying a hearty portion with a glass of Barbera d’Alba. Seated with me are two men and a woman.
They’re not your typical dinner guests, these three. To my left is Dino, a tall, intimidating figure with a sharp jawline and an even sharper suit. His eyes are a piercing gray with a coldness that could give the Arctic a run for its money.
Across from me sits Frankie “The Fist,” and beside him a redhead from Hell’s Kitchen, Isabella, who cut her teeth in the boxing rings before hooking up with Frankie and Dino. The three, together, are known as “The Unholy Trinity” throughout the underbelly of New York’s finest and foulest. They control everything from the docks to the upscale clubs, and fortunately for me, they love to take down assholes who abuse women.