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“We’re thrilled to have you on board,” Joy says, like this conversation is done.
“I’m thrilled to be here.” I don’t want to push my luck, but if I don’t push it’ll be Christmas before I get any information about Cynthia Bennett. “When do you think I’ll be ready to take over an author from Gloria? I’d love to work with authors more directly.”
Her brows pop. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“Working directly with authors was a big part of my job in New York. I understand Gloria will oversee what I do, but I’d like to take the lead on a project.” My heart pounds. I’m sure Joy is going to see right through me.
She purses her lips. “I’ll have to talk to Gloria and see if there are any authors she’s ready to hand over, but you’re right, it’s probably time to make that transition.”
“Actually, I don’t want to overstep, but I’d love to work with Cynthia Bennett.”
Joy’s eyebrows go even higher and her mouth twists. My heart races to speeds only achieved by cheetahs and supersonic jets. She’s onto me. She’s going to fire me and spread the word about my evil intentions, and I’ll never work in the industry again.
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” she says, and my heart falls out of my throat and back into my chest. “She’s new to us, from a publisher in Charlottesville. It makes sense for her to work with you going forward rather than establishing a relationship with Gloria so soon before she retires.”
She opens a drawer and pulls out a file folder. She slides it across the desk to me. “Gloria will, of course, help you out in whatever way you need, and please don’t hesitate to talk to me or Gloria with questions.”
I open the file folder and see Cynthia Bennett’s name and contact information at the top of the first page. Excitement bubbles up, but it’s tinged with a dark feeling I don’t like. Do I really have it in me to steal this author from Lovemore Publishing?
“She’s turned in her first manuscript and you’ll find it in the company files. Gloria has already started reading it and I’d like the two of you to discuss it before you send Cynthia the first round of edits.”
“Of course.” I close the file folder. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”
There’s not a hint of doubt or suspicion on Joy’s face, but her expression has lost some of its brightness. At least I think it has, but that could just be my paranoia. “Of course, Daisy. I’mexcited to see what you and Gloria come up with. I’ve read the manuscript myself, and I think you’re really going to enjoy it.”
I leave Joy’s office and go back to the screen porch desperate to read the manuscript that could save my career, but first I have to finish the work I started this morning. I can’t behave as though Cynthia Bennett is our only client.
∞∞∞
I’m curled up on a couch in the living room physically, but mentally, I’m lost in the world Cynthia Bennett has created. Typically, when I’m editing, I have no problem focusing on the plot and mechanics of the text, but Cynthia’s book is forcing me to backtrack every few pages, so I can pull myself out of her world and focus on how to improve her story.
I rarely see a manuscript that’s already so smooth and well-plotted. I’ve come up with a few suggestions for improvements, but the bones of the story are rock solid.
“Hey, Daisy.” Honey walks in and plops onto the couch next to me. “How are you doing? Deciding to stay here can’t have been easy for you. Is there anything I can do to help you settle in?”
Honey has done this since she was little. It’s like she knows what’s going on in someone’s head and she’s so damn confident about it. I might be able to just write it off, but I’ve never known her to be wrong. “I’m all set. I’m perfectly fine.”
Honey pats my knee. “No one’s perfectly fine.”
I sigh. I’ve got a manuscript to edit and I’m so not in the in the mood for her words of wisdom. “It’s a change for sure. I certainly never thought I’d end up back here, but I’m adjusting. How about you?”
She leans back, her eyes going wide in surprise. “Me?”
“Was settling in Catalpa Creek your dream? You’ve always wanted to be an artist, but I can’t remember you talking about where you wanted to live.”
Her expression shifts and loses that certainty I see so often from her. She walks through the world like she knows exactly who she is and what the people around her need from her. I’ve thrown her. “All I’ve ever really wanted is to be with you.”
And now I’m thrown. “Me?”
Her lips tick up. “You and Dani and Goldy and Clover. You all had so much fun as teenagers, sneaking out and arguing over clothes. You helped each other with homework and shared everything. I was always the baby and, by the time I was a teenager, you were all gone.”
She speaks flippantly, but her expression is sad. I never really thought about what it must have been like for her all alone for her last two years of high school and with only Clover for her first two. “At least it was peaceful. We argued all the time when we all lived together.”
She shrugs. “I just argued with Mom. I’d rather have had my four sisters to fight with.” She shifts on the couch, curling both legs under her and facing me. “I have an idea how you can make it up to me.”
I should have known she was up to something, playing on my guilt like that. “What do you have in mind?”
“You should play music with us. Your upright bass is in the attic.”
