Chapter 22: The Price of Talent
"Oh god, did Young Master just eat a slice of pizza?"
"He’s even drinking soda!"
I could hear the housemaids whispering as Lando and I sat in the dining room. He held my contract in one hand, while the other casually held the pizza I’d given him.
Why were they so shocked just because he ate junk food and soda? Had he really never eaten things like this before?
Thinking about it again ... maybe not. With all the chefs in this house, he probably only ate home-cooked meals instead of processed food. Still, he went out often. Who knew what he usually ate out there, right?
"They’re paying you $20,000?" Lando’s deep voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
I quickly nodded. "Yes! They’ll send half of it as a down payment tomorrow, and the rest after I finish my job." I hesitated for a second before lowering my voice. "Do you think ... that’s too much for me?"
Lando placed the file down and pushed it to the side of the table where no food could touch it. "Too much? That’s actually way too little for you."
I blinked at him, tilting my head as I chewed my pizza. "Mr. Brixton, I’m just a rookie. That pay is already way higher than what most beginners get."
"I know you’re a rookie, but that doesn’t matter." He set his phone down, showing me one of my audition photos I had sent him. Honestly, it was supposed to be private, but since he was my husband, I thought it was fine.
"You have the skill of a professional model." Lando tapped the screen a few times to zoom in on my photo. "You didn’t strike this pose randomly, you paid attention to every detail, and that’s what made the whole shot stunning."
I ignored everything else and clung to just one word. "So ... you think I’m stunning?"
Lando pressed his lips into a thin line, staring at me for a long moment before saying, "Yes. Your photoshoot is stunning." He cleared his throat. "But that’s not what I was trying to say."
I smiled widely at him, feeling satisfied even though he said he hadn’t meant to compliment me. "Then, what did you want to say?"
Lando leaned back in his chair, his long fingers tapping the table as if he was thinking carefully. "What I mean is ... don’t underestimate yourself. That company is lucky to have you."
I leaned forward and asked, "So ... let’s say you were the CEO of the company that wanted to hire me. How much would you pay me based on this photoshoot?"
Lando’s eyes locked on mine, serious as always. "At least thirty-five grand, since this campaign will probably run for months." He paused, then added calmly, "If you were chosen as the face of the product, I’d pay you around sixty grand."
My mouth fell open. That ... that was the exact amount I used to earn back when I worked in the entertainment industry for over four years!
Well, it actually made sense. My skills hadn’t disappeared just because my soul ended up in the body of a rookie. But most companies cared more about a celebrity’s background than the actual talent they had to offer.
"That’s way too high!" I clapped my hands in excitement, unable to hold it in. "Maybe I should just go to a company where you’re the CEO!"
Lando almost choked on the soda he was drinking, probably because I had touched on his real job, something he was clearly trying to keep hidden.
I quickly poured some mineral water into a glass when he couldn’t stop coughing and pushed it toward him. He took it, drank in silence, and only after the coughs subsided did he clear his throat, trying to change the subject. "Do you already have an agent? Or a manager?"
I shook my head. "No, I’m handling everything on my own right now. Since this is my first job, I don’t think it’s that big of a problem."
Lando dabbed the corner of his lips with a handkerchief before speaking again. "First job or not, you still need a manager." He paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on me. "You have a lot of potential, far more than you realize. It’s better to be prepared from the start, and besides, a manager can help you go through contracts and filter your offers."
I pressed my lips together, my fingers curling into a fist under the table. "Ah ... but I actually like reading my own contracts."
The last time I trusted my manager to handle all my contracts, I ended up trapped in a porn film shoot. So it’s been hard for me to trust anyone to take on that role again.
"It’s smart to read your own contracts carefully, but a manager can still do a lot for you," Lando said. "Ms. Orszebet, this industry isn’t easy to face alone. Having someone to guide you would make a big difference."
He paused for a moment before continuing, his voice softer this time. "If you don’t know where to start, let me help you. I ... have a connection who’s very skilled in this field, and I can promise you this person can be trusted."
I couldn’t help but think that connection was most likely him. After all, as the founder of ZENTRA Media, Lando had more influence and connections in the entertainment world than anyone I knew.
Maybe ... if he was the one choosing a manager for me, that person wouldn’t turn out to be as rotten as my former one.
Still, if I had a manager, I would also need to spend money to pay their salary. With such a heavy debt hanging over my head, that would become a huge burden.
A manager usually takes around 10%–20% commission. It might not sound like much, but for someone like me—whose income isn’t steady and who’s already drowning in debt—it would hurt my pocket more than anyone could imagine.
But how could I say no to Lando? He looked so determined, so genuine in the way he wanted to help me.
I hesitated, biting on my bottom lip. "But the fee ... it’s still money. I don’t think I can handle any extra expenses right now."