“Yup, different genres. Romance, sci-fi, mysteries, stuff like that. These—” I tapped the paper next to where his own finger was “—are the ones I did for rom-coms.” I couldn’t help smiling at the swatch with a pink background and featuring my favorite tropes.

“Don’t think too hard there, bud,” I teased, when his forehead scrunched up in concentration as he studied my sketch.

“So in romance there are tropes, like a shorthand for the dynamics of the romance,” I explained. “Like this one.” I tapped a fingernail on a couple staring at each other from either side of a bed. “That’s only one bed.” I’d drawn the figures in a way that their heads were turned in the direction of the headboard. There I’d added three big heart-shaped cushions. One had the word only in a loopy cursive, the other the number one, and the third read bed in big block letters.

“That’s really cool.” He grinned. “It’s cute but the style is really elegant.” I knew he was just talking out of his ass, but I appreciated the effort.

“That’s enemies to lovers,” I explained, flipping to the next sketch of two figures standing with their backs pressed together, glaring over their shoulders as winged golden hearts floated over their heads. “That one is my favorite.” He looked intensely at it for a bit, his face serious.

“This is genius, Alba.” He sounded sincere, but I never let myself get too excited about people’s opinions of my work. One person liking it, even loving it, didn’t mean that a corporation would think it could appeal to a larger market.

“It’s just a concept, doodles, really,” I told him, while he examined my mystery line sketches. “I have to get them much more polished to present them to Smithson-Napa.”

“There is no way they won’t love these.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said, revealing more than I wanted to in that moment. But Theo was no dummy and he probably detected the worry in my voice.

“I’ve never seen you doubt yourself like this.” He sounded genuinely surprised. “Besides, even I can see these are amazing.” I didn’t think he was joking, but there was more to this than Smithson-Napa appreciating my style. To my surprise, I told him what was really bothering me. Something that so far, I hadn’t confessed to anyone.

“The thing is, Bookish Boudoir is my baby and working with clients... Of course I have to accommodate what they love, and that’s fine because it’s theirs. A line like this would have my name on it, and I don’t want my name on something that isn’t my vision. Or on a watered-down version of it.”

“Do you think they’ll ask you to do that?”

I lifted a shoulder, not wanting to go down that particular rabbit hole.