The Fine Print (Dreamland Billionaires #1)(10)

Claire covers my mouth with her palm. “It was a rhetorical question!”

I raise a brow. “Why are you pushing me so hard to apply?”

“Because that’s what friends are for. We need to push each other out of our comfort zones. Because if you’re not afraid—”

“Then you’re not growing.” I smile back at her.

“So what do you say?”

I pull out my phone from my pocket and open an email I received last week. “Speaking of comfort zones…I wanted to bring this up to you, and now seems like the perfect time. Because if you’re not afraid…” I tease.

“Oh no.”

My grin widens. “If I’m submitting a proposal, then you’re applying for the apprentice position at The Royal Chateau. They have an opening in the kitchen that has your name written all over it.”

Claire’s smile drops. “This wasn’t supposed to be about me.”

“We’re a duo. If I’m pushing myself to my limit, then you’re coming along with me.”

This is my chance to help Claire out. She never wanted to permanently stay at The Magic Wand Salon, but she never worked up the nerve to apply for the position she was initially rejected from.

“I can’t apply there. They have a Michelin star!”

“All the more reason to apply to the very best.”

“But I don’t have a culinary degree from some fancy French school!” She jumps up from her spot on the couch.

“No, but you have a degree and heaps of experience working at restaurants during high school and college.”

She throws her arms in the air. “Last week I burnt a batch of cookies.”

“Only because I forgot to set the timer.” I laugh.

“The entire building had to evacuate because of the fire alarm. There’s no way anyone would trust me in a kitchen after that.”

I laugh. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

She plops onto the couch and lays her head on my lap. “You weren’t supposed to blackmail me.”

“What are friends for?”

“Oh, I don’t know, anything but felonies?”

I smile. “Come on. What do you say?”

“I say you’re annoyingly chirpy for someone who was against this whole idea only five minutes ago.”

“I’m taking advantage of an opportunity.”

“Just so you’re aware, I’m only agreeing because I’m okay with being rejected if it means seeing you chase after your dreams again.”

My smile wobbles. “Sure thing. Just like I will only agree to your plan because I’d rather see you try again. If not, you’ll end up like Mrs. Jeffries, working at the salon until you retire at ninety.”

Her lips purse. “Now you’re just being intentionally cruel.”

Together, we laugh up to the ceiling before shaking on our agreement.





Sifting through the weathered pages of my idea notebook hits me with bittersweet memories. I trace over Brady’s cursive handwriting covering the pages where we brainstormed what Nebula Land would look like if it became a new land within the park.

He and I spent weeks on it after he rejected my initial submission and told me I could do better. The catch? He would be the one to guide me. Together, we formulated a proposal while developing a brief mentorship.

Nebula Land was supposed to be the project that turned me into a Creator. But after Brady’s accident, it felt wrong to submit it, so I held off. I was surprised to read about my idea in the company newsletter after learning Lance stole the main parts I had shared with him in private.

What would Brady think of Lance manipulating our idea? The ride looks nothing like our original plan. My lungs burn with the heavy breath I let out, and my eyes become watery as I run a finger across a sketch Brady did.

Critiquing Lance’s idea isn’t going to get you anywhere closer to submitting yours.

I turn on my laptop, sign in to my employee account, and open the annual Dreamland submissions portal. The blinking cursor in the empty text box mocks me, but I refuse to give up. Claire believes in me, and maybe it really is time I stop letting Lance get in my way of believing in myself.





This was a very bad idea. After my first failed draft, I decided wine and a broken heart were a good combination for my second attempt.

Update: It was not.

I’m still nowhere close to having a submission ready. Everything I write about seems too underwhelming and lacks my usual passion. I take another swig of wine straight from the bottle in a way that would horrify my mother.

What if working through your negative feelings about the Nebula Land ride helps open up your mind to more creative ideas?

Yes! Maybe that’s what I’m missing. I delete everything from the text box and restart. At the top, I write The real Nebula Land that would make Brady Kane proud. My fingers fly across the keys as I let out every single thought I have toward the project. I’m done staying silent and pretending the ride doesn’t bother me.

When I was with Lance, that’s the kind of person I became comfortable being. The silent, demure type who didn’t want to make any waves because I prioritized his happiness. In the end, it was all for nothing. I gave up the person I was for a man who couldn’t handle the woman I was meant to be.