Kate returned to the table, setting down two iced teas. “Let’s talk price for this book. But before we sign a deal, I’m going to want to meet with the author and know who she is, okay?”
CHAPTER 10
A week after Jane and Kate sat down for tea to talk about Jane’s mystery author, Vivienne was on her way to a very, very important meeting. She checked her phone and suddenly remembered another very important appointment she had that day.
Back at the apartment, Nick was looking for his sister.
“Vivy! Are you home?” They were going to go look at the stores, an early tour he’d been promising her for a while. The interior was finally looking more like a store and less like a mess of sawdust.
Just then, his cell phone rang. It was her. “Where are you?” he asked.
Viviane sounded out of breath. “I’m sorry, I just got a call and have to run to a job interview.”
“Interview?” he asked, “I didn’t know you were looking for a job.” Nick could hear her running. “Where are you going?”
“It’s not a job, per se. It’s well… Nick, did you read the pages I left you?”
“What? Eh, yeah, why?”
“What did you think?”
“Well, it’s incredible. I mean, you could be the next Allan Lavigne. Now tell me about this job.”
“Nick it’s not a job. It’s a bid for this book.”
He frowned, “Book? You mean those pages I read?”
“Yes. Look, I know we were supposed to go check out the stores, but I’ll be back in an hour. My agent has a bid for the book and it’s big, or so she says.”
Nick was still trying to track this conversation; his head was reeling slightly. An agent? Really?
“So, you’ve been pitching this book?” His voice was intense. Ever the protective brother. Why hadn’t she mentioned it before? Vivienne always had been full of surprises.
“No, I haven’t, but my agent has. I got lucky, I guess. I pitched her and she responded within a week. I don’t think it usually happens that fast.”
Nick remembered Kate talking about the competitiveness of the industry and he was quite certain it was almost completely unheard of.
“Vivy, why didn’t you tell me? I could have…” he searched for the right words, “asked some people I know.”
His sister stopped walking, “I don’t want you asking Kate for anything.”
“Did I say Kate? You know Uncle was in the industry for a while. There are more people in the publishing world than Kate Mitchell.”
“Whatever. I wanted to do this on my own.”
“Hence the pen name, Riley?” Nick had seen that on the manuscript she gave him.
“I have to go down into the subway, and yes, I’m using a pen name. I don’t want someone to grab my book just because my last name is Lavigne. I want them to want me because my writing is fantastic and they love my work.”
His sister, the author. He was still slightly dumbfounded. Vivienne had never found anything she could really sink her teeth into, at least until now.
“Viv, hon, listen, you do know the pressure that comes with this, right? I mean, you may have to go on tour, do book events, see lots of people.”
“My dear brother, I love you. And yes, I get it. I’m ready for this. I’ve been writing all my life, but I finally had the direction to do something with it—thanks to you, you know, nagging me to get my life together.”
“I do not nag.”
Vivienne blew a kiss into the phone. “I’m going on the subway now. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
And with a click, she was gone. Nick stood in his living room for a while before he walked to his office to find the pages she’d left him. He read them again.
They were, in fact, amazing. It reminded him of his uncle’s writing in a way, but it was so excruciatingly honest, it almost made him shiver. How could someone only twenty-one write like this?
CHAPTER 11
Vivienne paced Jane’s office. The news had been fantastic; six figures for a first book was amazing. Then came the truth.
“I won’t publish with Lavigne House.” Vivienne insisted.
Jane softly drummed her fingers on her desk; it calmed her in an odd way. The rhythmic movement of her hand on the desk. One, two, three, four, five, then over again. She could feel her breath even out.
“Viv, darling, you are a bright and brilliant writer, but this is the best offer in town. You should take it.”
“I can’t and I won’t.” Vivienne folded her arms over her chest. The last thing in the world she wanted was to publish with her uncle’s house for that witch who had broken her brother’s heart.
That witch and her once-married lover.
The whole idea made her skin crawl.
“Vivienne, please sit down and take a breath.”
Vivienne remained standing.
“Please,” Jane implored again. “This pacing is giving me a headache.”
Vivienne dropped herself into a chair opposite her agent’s desk and let her hands drop into her lap.
It was a huge deal. Bigger, in fact, than she could have ever anticipated. Vivienne shrugged, “Jane, I’m sorry. But I can’t. I just I can’t.”
She continued to softly drum her fingers on her desk, one, two, three, four…
”Is it because it was your uncle’s house?”
“Yes, and…” Vivienne started to explain then she stopped. It was no one’s business. Also, she figured that the agent would find her silly and stupid.
Her brother’s ex-fiancé. This is business, nothing more. She should take the money and run. But she couldn’t.
Vivienne spoke softly, “Jane, I’m sorry. I know how lucky I am. I really do. But can we please put this out for more bids?”
“We have, my dear, and none of them have matched this one.”
“Can we try again? Please? Maybe repitch some publishers or expand the search?”
Jane leaned on her desk and pinned Vivienne with her stare. “On one condition. If nothing remarkable comes back, you’ll sign with Lavigne House.”
Vivienne did not respond. She stared at the book cases that towered behind Jane. They contained all of the books Jane had placed at publishing houses.
There were hundreds.
Vivienne’s heart ached to have her book be one of them. She stood up from the chair with a deep sigh.
“I want this, Jane.”
Her agent nodded, “I know you do, and while I don’t really understand your apprehension about going with Lavigne House, let me tell you this: There are thousands of authors out there desperate to get noticed. If you walk out on this deal, you will likely get published by someone, but this is the best house for you and your book. Let me put it to you this way: This book is your child. Are you willing to take second best because you can’t come to terms with whatever personal issues you have about publishing there?”
. . . .
The heat was still unrelenting. It wasn’t even officially summer, not technically anyway. Vivienne stood on the sidewalk outside Jane’s office and debated between walking in the heat and taking an equally hot subway train back to her brother’s apartment. For a moment she just watched the world go by, the thousands of people on the streets in front of her, cars, cabs, cyclists.
This was New York, a city full of opportunity, full of excitement. For years she’d been wandering the globe, going to the best schools and finding her way as best she could. However, truth be told, most of it she spent lost. Ever since her parents had died, Vivienne had been looking for something to fill the void, to fill the warm space they occupied. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t miss them so much her heart actually ached. Having her brother in her life had been more incredible than she could have ever imagined. And now that she was here with him, she wished she’d stopped traveling sooner. She was no longer alone; she had someone.
Nick was her person. If she got in trouble she called him, and when he’d been sad a
nd lonely after Kate left, he’d called her.
She knew she was his person, too.
Vivienne decided to walk home. This was a dream come true for her, the money, the book being published. It was everything she could have hoped for. But it galled her that she couldn’t take a step without running into Kate. She hated Kate for what she’d done to Nick, and now, to be published by her? There was just no way she could let it happen. Her book, her baby, her child, would have to go to another publisher.
That was final.
CHAPTER 12
“Did you get the book?” Mac was sitting with Lulu in one of their conference rooms when Kate got back to the office. Sales reports were scattered around the table. Kate set her purse and briefcase down on one of the chairs and sank into the one beside it.
“I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean? Other bids?”
“None as big as ours, but this author is using a pen name.” Kate tugged at her chignon; it’s always good to wear your hair up on hot days, but the tightness of the wrap was starting to give her a headache.
Mac looked at her over his reading glasses, something Kate always found incredibly sexy. It made her want to climb him like a tree.
“I don’t get it,” he said.
“The agent seemed sort of funny about it, too,” Lu chimed in.
“What do you mean?” Mac asked again.
Kate shrugged, “Well apparently the author is tethered to something that would ensure her a contract, and she doesn’t want anyone to know about it until the deal is signed. I told Jane ‘no way,’ that we’d need to know who it was before we signed her. I mean, what the hell? It could be Kim Kardashian, God forbid.”
“Not a chance in hell,” Mac smiled. “She can’t write anything beyond a few self-centered tweets now and then.”
Mac was right. It had to be someone smart.
Lulu’s face lit up. “What if it’s a former President’s daughter?” she asked. Kate could see her mind wander. Lu loved a good mystery.
“Well…” Kate thought she had a point. Just because whoever it was didn’t want to be known it didn’t mean it was bad, necessarily.
But Kate’s history with authors taught her to be cautious.
Very cautious.
Kate caught Mac’s eye. “You know, Lu could be right. I am anticipating the worst, but it could be something like that.”
Mac set down his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose.
“You’re smart to get her to tell you who it is. Even better, let’s meet her. This is a lot of money to fork over sight unseen, so to speak.”
“You’re still okay with this, right?” Kate asked. Despite the fact that technically Lavigne House was hers, she and Mac agreed to share all decisions about the books they would acquire. If she were splitting hairs, Lavigne House technically belonged to Nick, too. However, he had refused ownership. She had insisted on sending him a check each month—his share of the book profits. The checks were never cashed, a clear sign that Nick wanted nothing to do with her or her publishing venture.
“I’m fine with it. I feel the same way about this book that I did about Allan Lavigne’s; we’d be fools to pass on it.” Mac turned to Lulu, “Let’s see if the author can come into the office. Call Jane and tell her to set it up.”
“Gotcha,” Lu said and got up to leave. “I think you’re both right about this. This book is one of the best I’ve read in a long time.”
“Lulu, when we close this, let’s talk about giving you more responsibility,” Kate smiled. She adored Lulu. Lu had come with her from Morris & Dean and helped her through a very rough transition, before Lavigne House was even born. She owed it to Lulu to make sure she was well taken care of.
“Really?” When Lulu got excited, her voice took on a singsong inflection, as it did now. “I’d love to do more.”
“And you will.” Mac was fond of Lu, who’d had his back more times than he could count when he was at Morris & Dean. Some days it seemed like an eternity ago. He had been married to Carolyn then, if you could call it a marriage. He lived in his world, and she lived in hers. The only thing they shared was their love of their boys: Daniel who was in medical school, and David who was now in his third year of college.
When Lulu was gone, Kate said, “Mac, I’d love to put Lu in charge of new acquisitions. I know we have Rebecca coming on for children’s and YA, but what about putting Lu in charge of all pitches that come in? She could ferret through them and divide them up, so to speak.”
Mac nodded, “Yeah, she does that now sort of sporadically. Let’s make it official once we close the Riley book. By the way, does it have a name?”
Kate checked her notes. “The Summer of Thunder.” We may need to retitle it.”
“Agreed, the wording is awkward, but let’s close it first, and then we’ll see where we go with it.”
. . . .
Mac’s cell phone had been buzzing the entire time he was in with Lulu. When he got to his office, he checked it. It was his son Daniel. He’d called a few times and sent three text messages: Need to talk to you. Please call ASAP.
He dialed his Dan’s cell. “Hey Dad, glad I finally got you.”
Mac could hear the unease in Danny’s voice. “Dan, what’s up?”
“It’s Mom, she’s sick. Really sick.” He paused for a moment; Mac could swear he heard a sob in his son’s voice.
“How sick?” Mac asked. His heart skipped in his chest. Carolyn, sick? It wasn’t possible. She’d always been the picture of health.
“Very, Dad. Mom has cancer. Doc says it’s stage four.” Danny’s voice shook and he sniffed. Mac knew he was crying.
CHAPTER 13
Nick was waiting for his sister when she got home.
“So, how did it go?” he asked. Viv looked irritated.
“I got a deal.”
Vivienne walked into the kitchen to grab some water. She pulled a blue glass bottle from the fridge, unscrewed the top, and took a long drink.
Nick walked towards her, leaning on the breakfast bar. “Well, you don’t sound happy. Didn’t you get a good deal?”
Vivienne’s shoulders drooped slightly. “It was a great deal, but I can’t take it.”
Nick looked puzzled. “Why not? Do they want your firstborn or something?”
A corner of her mouth lifted into a partial smile. “If it were just that.”
Nick walked towards her and gave her a quick hug. “You seem really distressed. Come here.” She moved next to him and he put a protective arm around her shoulder.
“Now tell me what happened,” he said softly.
“It was Lavigne House,” she said finally. “I won’t take it. I just won’t.”
He pulled away and looked at her, stunned. “Wait, you mean Lavigne House wants your book and has no idea you’re related?”
Vivienne shook her head. “No, my agent told no one—not even anyone at Lavigne House.”
Nick cocked his head and eyed her suspiciously. “Why won’t you take this deal?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s too easy.”
Nick stepped back. “Too easy? You’re kidding, right? Most authors would kill for easy. Now tell me the real reason you’re not taking it.”
“I don’t want to ride on Uncle Allan’s fame.”
“Well, to an extent, you’d do that anyway. I mean just by default. At some point someone would learn the relation and by extension…” His sentence trailed off.
Vivienne looked uncomfortable.
“There’s more to this, isn’t there?”
Vivienne finished her bottle and set it on the counter. “No, that’s it. I want a different house.”
As she walked past him, Nick said, “If it’s because of Kate, you shouldn’t let that deter you.”
Vivienne stopped dead in her tracks. Of course he’d figure it out.
“I won’t.” She didn’t turn to face him; she couldn’t bear the look on his face when he talked about Kate. T
here was always a flash of pain that accompanied her name, despite his best efforts to protest that he was over her.
Nick grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Yes, you will take this deal. You will take it, and you will let this skyrocket your career.”
“I can’t. I can’t do this to you. I can’t let that bitch have my book and make a fortune on it after she broke your heart. It’s like rewarding someone for a crime.”
Nick took a deep breath. He wanted nothing more than to sever all ties to anything involving Kate, which is why he never cashed the checks she sent him. He just shredded them. Technically, he was owed a portion of the Lavigne House profits. That’s how Kate set it up. But the money was just one more tie he didn’t need. He loved that his sister was so dedicated to protecting him, but this was something she couldn’t pass up—despite the ties that came with it.
“Okay, listen. I know you mean well, and I love you for it. But trust me when I say that Kate is the best person in the world to publish this book. She will take care of you and that book like it’s her own. For years I heard Uncle’s stories about how horribly some publishers treat their authors and how Kate defended him, worked for him, and then in the end, protected his final work. She’s a good person, and whatever happened between us is in the past. Don’t let that interfere with your future. It’s done and I’m over it.”
A tiny pang clawed at his heart. Over it. Sure. Keep on telling yourself that. Cue maniacal laugher.
Vivienne dropped herself onto the couch. Nick took a seat beside her.
“At least meet with her and see what she has to say. I honestly think this is the best place for you. Really.” Nick took a deep breath, “And think of how proud Uncle Allan would be that you joined his publishing house.”
Nick smiled, remembering his uncle and how much he missed him. Sometimes he’d walk past his uncle’s old apartment and look up, expecting it to be like old times with Allan in the window waving him up. Where he would then spend a few hours with the man who had become like a father to him. Losing his uncle was like losing his father all over again.
Climax: The Publicist, Book Three Page 4