I wait for him to ask why, to question why I’d partially put my faith and future in another person’s hands—much the same way I’ve questioned it every minute of every day since I walked in on Paul and the bimbo—but Jase doesn’t.

“Okay, well, I might have a way, an opportunity, for you to earn what you need to help you stay afloat.”

“That sounds shady as shit. ‘Earn what I need’ spoken from a man I just met.”

He barks out a laugh. “You sure don’t disappoint, do you?”

“What . . .” Does that mean? That I don’t disappoint? But the thought dies because I’m still trying to focus on the opportunity he’s hinting at that will allow me to earn what I need.

And this is where my brain needs to take a rest. I’m a baker. He’s a famous musician. The man is calling you for cookies. Probably a lot of cookies. That’s the only reasonable answer for this very bizarre, flirty, and coded conversation.

“How big is the order?” I ask.

“Order?”

“Yes. How many cookies do you need? I’m short on staff and supplies—hence my off-the-cuff comment about needing money,” I say to simply save face. “So it just depends on the timeline and quantity needed if I could take your order.”

“I don’t want your cookies, Hendrix.” The way he says those six words sounds like the most seductive refusal I’ve ever heard. He laughs. “Yes, that sounded just as bad as we both think it did.”

“Glad I wasn’t the only one thinking that. But I am wondering if I should be offended that you don’t like baked goods.” I pause.

“Something tells me that no single cookie order will net you the kind of cash you muttered at the coffee shop.”

“Oh. Okay. So no cookies then?”

“No.”

“Then . . . what?”

He clears his throat. “I can’t exactly tell you.”

“You’re offering me an opportunity to make a considerable amount of money but you can’t tell me what that is? You do realize that’s—”

“Weird. Strange. Yes. And totally not my idea, but Legal says in order to talk about it, they’d need you to sign some documents first to ensure confidentiality is kept.”

“A non-disclosure agreement?”

“Yes.”

“Just to talk about whatever it is you want to talk about?”

“Yes.”

“Again . . . you’re aware how odd this sounds?”

“I am. But I’m also aware how easy it is in my line of work to discuss something with someone and then have it splashed all over the internet because the best gossip goes to the highest bidder.”

“Like I’d even know who to or how to sell your juicy story.”

“You’d be surprised how quickly people come out of the woodwork and what they offer when they know you’re associated with me.”