AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Good. We’ve got a pile of new manuscripts to go through and a virtual meeting with Arthur Hobbs this afternoon.”
“Great. Does he have new pages for you?” he asked. Arthur was a number oneNew York Timesbestselling author, and we’d published more than two dozen books with him over the last decade. We were in talks with Paramount for a movie deal, and the man was one of our most important clients.
“He’s working on it. He’s in a bit of a slump, but we’ll talk it through with him. Helena isn’t concerned.” I leaned back in my chair. Helena Rosewood was our chief editor and a brilliant woman. She’d been working at Lancaster Press since I’d been a kid, and the woman had an eye for talent.
“Well, if she isn’t concerned, then I don’t think we need to be.” He paused as a deep cough bellowed from his lungs. I waited. Asking if he was okay would infuriate him. He was a tough old goat—his words, not mine. A real estate mogul, a brilliant businessman, and his most precious company was Lancaster Press. He cleared his throat. “How’s the house? You settling in okay there?”
“The house is nice. The town is small. Things are slow here.” I leaned back in my leather chair and crossed my arms over my chest. I’d fought the move here, but solely because I didn’t want to leave the city. It was a wise move for the company. We didn’t need to be located on the busiest street in San Francisco anymore. It served no purpose, and we could have a lot more space here. With so many things being remote now, there was no reason not to move. My grandfather had removed my father from his position as president of Lancaster Press, and with the shift of title to me, it was the perfect time to relocate. Start fresh.
“Slow isn’t always a bad thing, my boy. And you are truly the only one that I trust to get this company back to where it was. Your father is still pissed at me.”
“He’ll get over it,” I said, my voice harsher than I meant it to be.
My father was the devil. He just covered it well with his fake smiles and fancy suits for the press. The only plus to leaving the city was that I wouldn’t have to see his face very often. We still had a ton of family obligations, and I wouldn’t be getting out of those with a helicopter accessible to take me to and from the city at a moment’s notice.
“Remember what I told you about anger,” he said, and the way he paused afterward made it clear that he’d just lit his cigar and was puffing away.
The man had COPD and a chronic smoker’s cough, yet he’d never gone a day without his cigar.
“Yeah, yeah. Anger only hurts the person carrying it. I got it.” I reached for my coffee and took a sip. “How’s semi-retirement treating you?”
“Really well. I emailed you something that caught my interest. Mara Skye is a self-published author who is making a real name for herself, and word on the street is she’s shopping her next book and is interested in a traditional deal. I may or may not have gotten the first few chapters of the book, so we’d have first crack at her if you think it’s worth it. But we were given a very short lead time, so we’d have to act quickly, as in—today.” My grandfather knew every literary agent on the planet, soword on the streetusually meant it was actually happening. “I thought you could find someone to take a look at it. She writes historical romance, not my thing, but I read the first few pages, and she’s got a great voice. Maybe Nadia could take a look today, because if we want to make it happen, we should do it before they start shopping it.”
“Sure. I’ll have her look at it this morning. I’ll let you know, and then perhaps you could stop beating around the bush and give me her agent’s information so I can reach out directly,” I said, shaking my head because the man was still finding ways to keep his nose in the business.
“Let me know what you think first, and I’ll set up the meeting in the city for you and Ted Hagger, and maybe I’ll just pop in for a scotch.” He barked out a laugh.
“Ahhh, of course, she’s with Ted Hagger.” The dude was a total douchebag, but he somehow managed to sign every author we wanted. I couldn’t stand the man. “I thought Grandmother was going to keep you in check with this retirement plan.”
“She’s trying. I can’t have you rubbing Ted wrong. You’re still learning how to control that temper of yours, and remember, we don’t need to like the agent. It’s the author we want. So, if that means bowing down to Ted Hagger to make that happen, that’s what you do.”
“I can play nice, Grandfather.”
“Sure, you can,” he said over his laughter that was mixed with a harsh cough. “You forget that you’re me fifty years ago. You’ll calm down with age. What you need is a good woman to keep you in check. None of this playboy shit. That’s for kids.”
I rolled my eyes. He was one of my favorite people on the planet, which was saying a lot since most people bugged the shit out of me. But he was old-school. His way was the right way, the only way, whether you agreed with him or not.
“I’m doing just fine. I’ll get on this manuscript right away and keep you posted.”
“All right. I’ll speak to you later today.”
We said our goodbyes, and I pulled up my email and forwarded the first three chapters to Nadia, and asked her to get on it immediately. She wasn’t my favorite editor at the office because she tended to be a bit harsh and was quick to say no after many years in the business. But her forte was mainly historical romance, so this should go to her.
There was a light knock on the door, and I called out for whoever it was to come in. Georgia Reynolds strolled in with a mug in her hand and made her way over to me. Visions of bending her over my cherrywood desk filled my thoughts, and I internally cursed myself.
“I saw that you were off the phone, so I thought you might need a fresh cup of coffee.” She set it down and picked up the empty mug. She was figuring out my habits quickly. I drank about four cups of coffee before lunch, and she seemed to know right when I’d need the next one.
“That was thoughtful of you,” I said, my eyes roaming down her body before snapping back up to meet her sapphire eyes.
“What can I say, I’m a thoughtful girl.” She smirked, heading for my door as I watched her ass sway back and forth in her black pencil skirt.
“Hey, have you ever heard of Mara Skye?”
She whipped around, her jaw falling open and accentuating her plump, pink lips.
And I wondered how they’d feel wrapped around my cock that was suddenly throbbing against my zipper.
Fucking Tink was going to be the death of me.
