When I get to work, an email from Nero awaits me. He wants me to research a pharmaceutical company before the end of the day. No hint of the Jubilee, and no hint of our new Mentor/Mentee relationship.
Why am I not surprised?
Since I’m scheduled for my restaurant gig tonight, I give the manager a call, but I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth—that I’m done with performing forever. Instead, I say that I have a month-long work trip and that they should give my spot to another magician. I even recommend a guy.
The whole thing hurts almost physically, and I feel even worse once I start researching the company Nero requested. I see my whole life becoming a constant stream of stock research, without the glimmer of hope that the restaurant gig had always given me.
By lunch, I have my rec
