I barely exhale when I make it to the window.
“Personal would be preferred,” Charlie tells Jack, replying to his question.
Window cleared and blinds snapped shut, I face them again.
Jack hasn’t sat back down, thankfully, because I have to return to the front door. “You could use a bigger apartment, Highland,” I whisper to him as I pass again. “You don’t fit in this one.”
The top of his head is barely an inch from the ceiling fan.
He lets out a short laugh. “I’ll take that under consideration. Any other critiques?” His tone is friendly but eager.
Our eyes latch for what feels like the first time tonight. I should ask for my clothes back. But it’s not the time or place and the longer he’s staring at me, the more my stomach knots. I can’t read him. Before, I found it intriguing, now it’s almost agonizing. Unnerving.
“Nope,” I say and break our gaze to head to the door.
I lean beside the doorframe, giving both of them space, but I’m in earshot. Charlie rubs his fingers over his lips in thought.
Jack refocuses on my client. “I’d love to work with you on it, Charlie, but I can’t take on any personal projects right now.”
“I can pay whatever you want,” Charlie says casually like his checkbook is open on the table. Now I’m a little concerned. Again, what in the fuck is he doing? I wish I could ask, but I usually don’t get involved unless his safety is on the line.
Jack smiles. “I appreciate that. But it’s not about the money. I’m busy these days, so I’m only taking on projects that will land me network and cable contracts.”
“So let’s say I want you to shop it to a network. You’d take it on then?” Charlie asks.
Pieces are suddenly colliding at a sharp rate, and I have to cut in this time. Not moving from beside the door, I speak up. “You want Highland to film you?” It’s an educated guess.
Jack’s brows shoot up and he swings his head to me. “He didn’t tell you?”
I go rigid. God, I wish I were wrong.
Charlie twists the gold ring on his finger. A Faust Academy crest of a falcon and crown rest in the center. He never had to tell me, but I know that’s his father’s high school ring.
Charlie’s yellow-greens flit to me. “You know now.”
“You’re already on We Are Calloway,” I remind him. He also barely shows up to gigs. He’ll comply for his segments, but they last maybe two minutes tops. I can’t see him staying in Jack’s orbit long enough to fill up a whole episode.
He shrugs and tilts his head. “Maybe I want to be the star.”
I don’t believe him.
Most of the world truly thinks Charlie Cobalt is as narcissistic and self-serving as his father, but I’ve been around him long enough to know that he has motives. And they’re not always egocentric. But does he have the ability to go there? Yeah. It’s in him, sure.
He’s only twenty-one. He’s so young still. I just don’t know where he’ll really land.
I think on the facts that I do have. “If that were true, Charlie, you would have been the one to bring up the network deal.” He wasn’t. He wanted this project to be personal. Private.
Jack’s brows cinch in worry and he raises a hand to my client. “And I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything for network TV. I have reliable contacts that would be more than happy to take on a personal videography project for you.”
“If you were pressuring me, I’d already be walking out the door,” Charlie says, still rolling his ring absentmindedly. “Let’s do it. Once you have the footage for a pilot, you can shop it to whatever networks you want.”
I grind on my teeth, sawing my opinion down. I have to let him live his life. Make his own decisions without my input. But damn, it’s hard sometimes.
Jack hesitates. “This can’t be like We Are Calloway. If you want to do a show that centers on your life, you’re going to have to stick around for every scheduled filming. I can’t move equipment as fast as you change your mind and run off to Prague.”
Charlie snorts. “You mean we’re not filming a nature documentary? An up close and personal look at the mysterious beast in his natural habitat.”
Jack’s face contorts for a second, empathy leaking out. “I didn’t want to ask, but I feel like I have to…is there a reason you want to do this?” I’m a little relieved Jack is pressing him on this. I know I won’t.
Charlie rolls his eyes. “Do I have to have one?”
“For my moral conscience, yeah,” Jack nods. “I need you to give me one. Because I can’t film you, if deep down, you don’t really want to do this.”
Charlie scoots to the edge of the couch. Elbows to his knees. “Deep down,” he says. “I don’t give a shit if people love me. Or hate me. Or think I’m an entitled, spoiled brat. I’d have to care enough about them to care about their opinions—and I don’t give a shit. You want honesty, I have reasons I want my life filmed, but I’m not going to tell them to you. And if you think I’m going to care about exposing myself to the world—I won’t. I don’t.”
I believe that.
Jack looks him up and down, still gauging. “I won’t air anything you don’t want aired. You can trust me on that, but you’re going to get more shit than you’ve ever received from the public. You’ll be the first of the famous kids to step out with their own show. It’s like announcing to the world you’re going solo.”
Charlie lets out a genuine, heartfelt laugh. “Better, even.” He rises to his feet.
Jack follows him to a stance. “Everyone knows Cobalts run on loyalty,” he reminds him. “To a lot of people, they’re going to think this move is a betrayal
