Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I let out a breath. I haven’t admitted it aloud, but maybe I owe it to Nolan to be honest. “I haven’t felt the same passion for this I used to. We’ve already made fortunes. More than we can spend in a lifetime, unless we try to beat Elon in a mega yacht competition, at least. Or if we start our own spaceship company… Actually, maybe we should earn some more cash.”
Nolan is frowning straight past my attempts to lighten the mood. “What are you saying?”
I slide my tongue across my teeth. I’m not usually at a loss for words, but I’m not finding the right ones for my friend. “I’m not sure,” I say. “That’s part of it, I guess. I feel like some part of me that used to burn with never-ending energy for this stuff has dimmed or started to sputter. Some days, I have it. Some days, I don’t.”
He sits down in the chair across from my desk. Okay, it’s more like he falls into the chair. Seeing what my words are doing to Nolan makes me feel like shit.
“Don’t you ever look around and wonder, ‘is this it’?” I ask.
“No?”
“I mean, we’ve got money. We succeeded. So are we supposed to… what, just keep doing this until we’re too old to get out of bed in the morning? Is this really the life everybody thinks they want? Work all day. Push away anything outside work because it might interfere with our focus. Grind and grind and grind until there are so many zeroes in our bank accounts that we lose track. What kind of life is that?”
“We do it because we love it. The challenge every day. It’s the fucking challenge, man. That’s why we get out of bed–because this is hard, and we’re uniquely made to do it better than anybody else. It’s like art.”
I grin. “Art?”
He throws up a hand in annoyance. “What made you do it for this long, then?”
I consider. “I like that I’m good at it. Everybody always told me I was a fuck up. When we started from our apartment and got our first authors published and those first checks came in? It was like a big ‘fuck you’ to all the people who told me I’d never accomplish anything.”
“See? There’s your ‘why’.”
“And,” I continue. “I’ve very thoroughly told everybody to go fuck themselves. I’m thirty-seven. I’ve spent my adult life telling women that work comes first. I’ve always picked this over them, and I end up back at my big, empty apartment.”
Nolan’s eyes narrow. “This is about women?”
I groan. “I open all this shit up for you and that is your analysis?”
“It’s the author girl, isn’t it? Push, don't pull girl.”
“No.”
Nolan deflates a little in his seat. His eyes go distant like they do when he’s about to piece together the solution to a tricky puzzle. “That’s it. You weren’t yourself the last few months because you’ve been lonely. Then this girl comes along and you’re telling yourself she’s the perfect fit.”
“Okay, hold on. I’ve never been lonely in my life. I can walk into any building and walk out with the hottest woman on my arm.”
“Then why haven’t you been doing that?”
“Because what’s the point?” I snap. “It’s just catch and release fishing. I spend so much time here. There’s not enough of me to go around, even if I find the right one.”
He nods slowly. “Look, man. I need your help here. That much is true. But you’re also a brother to me. I’m not going to force you to keep at this if it’s making you miserable. If you need a break or some time off, that’s alright. Or…”
He trails off, probably because he doesn’t want to officially open the door to me leaving for good. I’m not sure I want to open that door, either. All I know is something isn’t working. Landmark is grinding our faces into the dirt with more and more force every year. Unless we want to dump our own savings into playing their game back, I can’t see a clear way out.
“Alright, alright. I’m sure your knees are getting sore from being down there sucking me off for so long. I’m not quitting or retiring, okay? I just wanted to tell you where my head was. Besides, I’ve got an ace up my sleeve.”
Nolan hesitates. If I know him, it’s because he’s probably sensing I’m changing the subject on purpose. If he’s in a really perceptive mood, he knows I’m not anywhere near as sure that I don’t want to leave the company as I’m letting on. “An ace up your sleeve?” he asks.
“Push or pull girl,” I say, eyebrows raised suggestively. I can feel my mouth moving ahead of my brain, and I already hate myself for what I’m doing. But I can’t stand seeing my best friend so down. I’d do just about anything to cheer him up, and I have a sinking feeling I’m going to regret what I’m about to say.