I shift my weight from one foot to the other. "Why are you doing this? Putting me on the spot? Pushing me?"
"Because you need to be pushed."
"Wrong answer. This is not your call to make. I am not ready."
"Bullshit. You've been working on this for more than ten years. The best things happen when you get out of your comfort zone."
"Gah." The nerve of him! "You say that because you always had a cushion to fall on."
Jesus, I didn't mean to raise my voice.
"I know that. Don't think I ever take my privilege for granted."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to attack you. I just...I'm not ready," I repeat.
Blake closes the distance between us. Brave of him, since my anger is still alive and simmering-coming close to a boil.
"You don't see what I see." He puts his hands on my shoulders, looking me straight in the eyes.
"Enlighten me. What do you see?" I challenge.
"A strong, hardworking woman who is afraid to put herself out there. You think your dream is safe as long as you keep it to yourself. You're afraid that you'll lose your safe haven if you get criticized."
Wow. Wow. I couldn't have put this into words any better.
"So, if you know all this, why push me?"
"Because you want to make this step, you're just afraid. What's the worst that can happen? Charlie says you still need to sharpen your skills. Your confidence will take a hit, maybe you'll even stop illustrating for a while. But then eventually you're going to start it again. If you don't, I'm going to nag you until you start again just to shut me up."
Poof, there's my anger. Vanished into thin air. My current predicament revolves around having a knot in my throat, and if I try to form words in spite of it, they might come out mushy and emotional. Blake moves his hands from my shoulders to hold my face.
"You have no idea how amazing you are, Clara. But I do." He presses his thumbs gently against my temple, the rest of his fingers splayed wide at the sides of my head. "If you really don't want to show him your work, I'll go down alone and make up an excuse."
"Look at you, all democratic. Giving me a choice."
He smiles, kissing my forehead.
"I'll show it to him. I feel particularly brave. Will you stick around while he's looking over them? Just in case my bravery deserts me and I try to make a run for it?"
"I'll be there. Told you I have your back. I believe in you."
***
A few minutes later, the show is on. I shove what I think is the collection of my best works under Charlie's nose, and he's inspecting every page, hmming and aaaahing. I can't tell if they're good or bad sounds, but if he doesn't form actual words soon, the tension rising inside me will choke me.
"Charlie, how about voicing some of that feedback?" Blake asks eventually. The two of us are standing around one of the small round tables, and Charlie is the only one sitting. Kind of wish I'd perched up on a seat too because my knees feel like they're about to give away, and not in a good way. As if sensing this, Blake brings his hand at the small of my back, moving it in small, soothing circles, as if saying, I'm here for you, and I'll be here no matter what Charlie says. I'll have your back, always.
Charlie snaps his head up. "Sorry, I tend to lose myself in illustrations. These are very creative. What's your background?"
"I took a class at a community college, but mostly I'm self-taught."
Charlie nods. "How many illustrations do you have in total?"
"Lost count a few years back, but the number is in the hundreds."
"No better way to hone your craft than by continually using it. Our imprint is company-fresh talent. We're looking to bring on board three full-time illustrators, with a two-week training period right in the beginning. The recruitment process is just about to start. Would you be interested?"
Woooooooot! Hell yes! Breathe in, breathe out, Clara. Sound polite. Do not let your crazy come out right now. You can do a happy dance later. It might involve Blake, and we might be naked.
"Yes, very interested."
"Excellent. I think you'd be a match for us. Go on our homepage, you'll find the job posting there. Apply and you'll hear from us. Best of luck."
I'm still dizzy when Charlie leaves, which is when I unleash my crazy, smothering Blake with kisses.
"Congratulations, babe," he says when I give him the chance to breathe. Then I attack him again.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
Oh snap. I'm in love with this man. Head over heels in love, earth-shattering love, and any number of euphemisms are appropriate to describe what I feel. The more exaggerated the more appropriate.