Ah, there it is. This is a lesson I learned the hard way early on. Sponsorships aren’t always the easy money they’re cracked up to be, so I have to be smart about the pay structure and expectations, and that’s after extensively vetting the company. Too many businesses want to only send ‘free’ product and expect you to bend over backward for it like they own you, or they’ll pay well but want you to bring in such a ridiculous amount of traffic that you never see a penny of the promised revenue.
“And the private link and code . . . you’ll be tracking those, of course. If the placements are successful, we’re fine. But what’s the follow-through rate at which you’ll be concerned about the sponsorship?”
We talk business in a bit more detail, but I’m not hearing anything alarming. In fact, it all sounds really good as long as the candles are amazing. I won’t promote something I don’t truly believe in because I won’t risk my hard-earned reputation on shady companies or harmful products.
“I need a few samples to evaluate so I can personally see how they burn, their scents, things like that. But other than that, it sounds like we have a basic agreement?”
Sharon, who’s been looking nervous, sighs in happy relief. “Great! Of course. I already have a six-pack ready to ship to you, if you’d like. And I can email the contract today.”
We wrap up the rest of the call, and I sit back, pleased. Positive Vibe isn’t going to be a huge addition to my monthly income, but every bit adds up.
I make myself a note to follow up on the contract, samples, and dates for possible future posts. That bit done, I look at the clock.
“Oh! Gotta go, Raffy.” He doesn’t move from his place on the couch. Usually, he’s excited for his lunchtime walk, but today, he only opens one eye and it’s glaring at me like, ‘Really? We just came in.’ I guess our morning walk was late . . . and long.
“Fine, be a bag of lazy bones. I have lunch plans anyway, so it was going to have to be a short walk,” I tell Raffy, who’s already closed his one open eye again. Not even the words ‘bones’ or ‘walk’ get him to wake up, so he must really be tired.
I decide to head to my lunch date with Eli a little early and enjoy the beautiful day. I’ve already had three big wins as Riley Sunshine this morning, but a bit of actual sunshine would be nice for me, Riley Watson.
I roll the windows down in my Bug and turn the radio up, singing along as I drive toward Eli’s bank.
As I walk in, Eli gives me a wave. “Hey, Cuddle Fluff, you here to rescue me?” Eli asks, coming over to give me a kiss on the cheek.
“Cuddle Fluff? I think I like Honeychops better. Fluff makes me think of the giant marshmallow monster in Ghostbusters.”
Eli laughs. “You don’t choose the name. The name chooses you. And that was the Stay Puft marshmallow man. Cuddle Fluff is like a cozy pillow you want to curl up with for a Sunday nap while it rains outside.” He pulls his arms into his chest like he’s snuggling himself, or maybe an imaginary pillow, I guess. “Mmm, mmm, mmm.”
I lift one brow, not believing him for a second.
“Lunch?” he asks, wisely changing the subject.
“I’m buying. What’s your fancy today?”
“Hmm . . .” Eli muses before rubbing his flat belly. “Well, my naughty side says we go down to Sharkey’s for fried chicken-topped pizza. But the good boy in me says let’s get some subs at Malone’s. So . . .”
“Sharkey’s?” I answer wryly.
At the same time, Eli says, “Malone’s it is.”
Eli checks in with the assistant manager, who tells him she’s got the bank covered for the next hour while he heads out. Minutes later, we’re seated at Malone’s, an old-school deli with some of the best pastrami in town.
“So, being a good boy?” I ask Eli as I notice that he’s got a double serving of lean chicken breast on his sub and more vegetables than I’ve seen him eat in an entire month. He shrugs, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully.
He’s not as sassy as usual, and I set my own BLT and cheese sub down to look at him carefully. “Eli? Is everything okay?”
Eli sighs, looking at his sandwich with disgust as he sets it down. “You didn’t tell me. I had to hear about it from Arielle.”
It is Noah, of course.
I set my sandwich down too. “Well, we sort of told her unexpectedly, you know.”
“Oh trust me, I know. Actually, I got in a bit of trouble for asking too many pointed questions,” Eli says wryly. “I mean, all I asked was what position you two were in, if the goods were hard or soft, a description of sizes and shapes, and there was something else . . .” Eli taps his chin, looking off like he can’t remember, and I wait for the crazy punchline. “Oh, yeah, if I could watch next time.”
“Eli! That’s his sister. And ew . . . no,” I say with a grimace, even though I’m fighting back laughter. He’s not serious. He never is. He just likes to shock people with the outrageous things he says.
“So what I’m hearing is . . . there’s a chance,” he teases.
“Incorrigible,” I tell him, and he grins. “So, other than hating not being the first to know everything, what’s going on with the good boy act and all that healthy stuff? You’re not exactly known for your good choices.”
That’s mild compared to how we usually tease each other, but to my surprise, Eli flinches slightly. “Damn, right in the feels, woman. I’m definitely sticking with Cuddle Fluff now.”
He’s avoiding the question, so I glare at him, not letting him joke his way out of it. Finally, he says, “I’m just trying to cut some spare weight, maybe put on an extra five or ten pounds of muscle. Be even more of a sex machine than I already am.”
“So . . . what, you’ve found some hot young thing you need to keep up with?” I guess.
A crack starts in my heart for my friends. I don’t know what’s been going on with them lately, but I’d hoped they were figuring it out. I guess not if Eli’s already moving on from their most recent FWB moment.
“More like a classic. I’m trying to gear this engine up for a long drive.”
We are definitely not talking about cars. Eli is a lot of things, and I do mean a lot, but a car aficionado is not one of them.
“Is that so?” I ask, gleeful. “Why, Eli Taylor, are you done drag racing?”
Eli laughs as I awkwardly stick with his metaphor. “Maybe.”
“And does she know this?” I ask, taking a bite of my sandwich.
“Yes, I’ve told her. I’ve . . . let’s just say I’ve surprised myself at some of the things that have come out of my mouth over the past few weeks.” As if afraid of what he’s going to say now, he takes a huge bite of his sandwich, shoving an escaping bit of lettuce into his mouth.
“I see.” I chew thoughtfully. “But you don’t look happy.”
“That’s because I know my past,” Eli admits as he swallows. “I’ve had a lot of fun, done a lot of things. Done a lot of people, too. And I don’t regret it, not one bit of it. Well, there was one time. I’ll spare you the details this time, but it’s a great story. However, it scared the shit out of me. So I got more careful, learned my lesson. I started growing up, I guess you could say. But now, some of that’s coming back to bite me in the ass.”