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He’s trying to warn us. They’re Jayhawks. He’s telling us that the Jayhawks are part of Minotaur.
WKWWK
Loyal Boy
Or he could be telling us that the Jayhawks are in danger from Minotaur. Think about it.
Frodo 14
Veronica Cole had booked a table at a restaurant called Story in Prairie Village, which was nearly an hour’s drive from Lawrence. It seemed a long way to go for lunch, but perhaps the agent had chosen the venue for its name. It was more probably a coincidence, but Theo was secretly delighted. Perhaps in time she would be able to say she was signed by Day Delos and Associates at a place called Story.
Gus approved of the choice. “It’s time you started exploring beyond Lawrence, mate.” He tossed her the keys to his truck. “I’ll get Jac to give me a lift to work.”
Jacqui had replaced Lauren, who had replaced Pam. Theo had become accustomed to occasionally meeting Gus’s latest passion at breakfast. They were invariably lovely and ate breakfast wearing one of Gus’s work shirts. Theo wasn’t sure if that was just because they hadn’t brought anything to sleep in or because her brother had some sort of preference for women in his business shirts. She tried not to think too much about it, and simply made extra toast without blinking.
On that morning, Jacqui had helped her choose an outfit for the meeting with Veronica Cole, insisting that Theo shouldn’t look too businesslike. “Artists should have a quirky flair, don’t you think, Gus?”
Gus had grunted something unintelligible from the shaving mirror, and Jacqui had swapped Theo’s black suit jacket for a sage velvet one, attached one of Gus’s cuff links to the lapel, and added a woolen scarf. “There, that’s better.”
Theo had to admit that it was. It looked more like her, and less like a frightened lawyer at least. She’d been trying to appear more professional, but she’d got the profession wrong, she supposed. The thought that she might never have to dress like an aspiring lawyer again made her absurdly happy.
Theo left early, in case she got lost or had a flat or was caught in traffic. But none of those things happened, and so she stopped the car in the village shopping center and wandered over to look at the concrete and stone sculpture across the road, to keep herself from dwelling on Dan and undoing Jacqui’s efforts by dissolving into tears. Viewing the statue of the pioneer family from every possible angle and sitting for a while on the fountain’s edge used up about ten minutes, and so she walked around Prairie Village, looking into shop windows, to avoid arriving at the restaurant early. She didn’t want to sit on her own waiting for Veronica Cole. A tiny part of her still worried that the agent would never arrive, that this would not happen. She remained uneasy about being given an opportunity out of tragedy. Though this might have been Dan’s last gift, it seemed indecent to want it, to be excited about it.
And yet she was.
An audience with an agent from Day Delos and Associates was…well, significant. A sign that you might belong, that you had enough talent to be entitled to dream of a writer’s life. How was it possible to be excited and devastated at the same time?
In her satchel Theo had an updated version of her manuscript. She’d worked on it all of the previous day and half the night, becoming progressively more mortified by the draft she’d given Dan Murdoch, the draft he’d passed to Veronica. The typos! How had she not seen them before?
Gus had laughed at her panic and lectured her about a great Australian tradition he called “Good enough,” which he suggested she embrace.
Veronica was already seated when Theo finally walked into the restaurant. She waved and smiled as the waiter directed Theo to the table.
“Have you been waiting long?” Theo asked, nervous now that she was late.
“Not at all!” Veronica said, shaking Theo’s hand. “I came a little early to make sure there was a familiar face when you arrived.”
The waiter bought menus and a bottle of sparkling water to the table.
Theo sipped. Her mouth felt dry.
Veronica looked at her and laughed. “I’m going to put you out of your misery: I really like what I’ve read of Underneath.”
“Oh.” Theo squeaked into the pause, almost overcome with both excitement and uncertainty.
“At this stage, we’d like to ask you for exclusivity—Day Delos and Associates policy, I’m afraid—until we’ve decided finally if we can offer you representation.”
“Of course. I haven’t submitted the manuscript to anyone else.”
“Excellent. Day Delos does have a slightly more stringent definition of exclusivity than most agents, however. I know you showed your manuscript to Dan, but has anyone else seen it? Anyone at all?”
“No. Just Dan.” Theo wondered if she should mention that Gus had heard her read a few passages aloud. She decided against it—surely that wouldn’t count.
“We require that any manuscripts we take on are entirely between the writer and us until we take it to our preferred publisher. A great deal of our success is because we can guarantee that only the publishers we select will see the manuscript we are pitching, that it is a privilege to be offered a manuscript from one of our authors. It creates a buzz from the outset and almost ensures that the resultant book goes immediately to the top of the New York Times bestseller list.”
Theo nodded.
“Of course, it means our authors must be very disciplined. In this day of social media, we do not want any hint of your novel, its plot, its style, or substance getting out before it is time.”
