Page 127 of End Game

She points at some earlier posts. “What changed here?”

“We stopped opening with the logo. Stopped explaining who she is before giving people a reason to care. And I asked her to save the questions she gets from customers instead of guessing what they want to know.”

She scrolls back and compares some things. Then asks more questions.

Then she pulls a small notebook out of her purse. “What do you charge for this?” she asks.

I tell her.

Her pen stops.

My stomach drops.

“That includes the strategy, content, reporting, and the emails?” she asks.

“Well, the emails were extra. Originally. Then we moved some things around, and she was having a rough month, so—”

“How many hours?”

“It depends.”

“On average. In a normal month.”

I give her a number. She glances at my laptop again, then back at me, and I add the hours I spend responding to messages and handling revisions.

“Cami.”

“I know.”

Except I don’t know what I know until she turns the notebook toward me and shows me the division and my hourly wage.

Oh. That is an ugly little number.

“And that’s before your expenses and taxes,” she says.

“They’re small businesses.”

“Then give them a smaller scope. You can care about their budget without pretending your time doesn’t cost anything.”

I look down at the math. “If I raise it, some of them will leave.”

She doesn’t immediately disagree, which makes me trust the next thing she says more.

“Some might. I’m not telling you to blow up your income tomorrow. Start with new proposals. Be specific about what’s included. Limit revisions. Charge separately when they add work.”

“They just call it a ‘quick change.’”

“They can call it whatever they want. You still have to do it, and you still have bills to pay.”

“I cover my rent. Groceries. Basics.” My thumb rubs a worn spot beside the trackpad. “Griffin insists on covering a lot of the medical stuff. And some months are good. It’s just hard to know what next month is going to look like when half my clients don’t know what theirs will look like either.”

“That’s a lot to carry.”

I brace for the offer to help. Or the carefully phrased suggestion that I find something more reliable than what I’m already doing.

Instead, she taps the screen lightly beside the results.

“This is work someone can budget for, Cami. You’re already doing it. We need to get you charging for all of it.”