Page 40 of Not on the Same Page

14

CASEY

“Imani, thanks for joining us today. I’m excited to talk to you about Keeper of Secrets,” I say.

Imani’s pearly smile lights up her little box on the screen. We thought about flying her in for a meeting, but she lives in a very small town in Georgia, and the logistics of getting her here just to discuss the possibility of an offer didn’t seem worth it. A video conference was the next best thing. At least this way I’ll be able to see her facial expressions when we broach the subject of Trina representing her.

“Thanks, Mr. Endersen. I’m really excited.” She bounces a bit in her seat and adjusts her camera so she’s fully in the frame.

“Call me Casey,” I return warmly. “We’re waiting for one more person to join us”—I glance at the clock—“but suffice it to say, I think your manuscript is really wonderful. I’m sure you deduced that is why I scheduled this meeting.”

She nods enthusiastically, then pulls back a bit, clearly trying to show some restraint. I have to remind myself not to chuckle at her excitement. And this also solidifies her need for an agent. I could probably offer her a hundred dollars right now and she’d take it, even though her book is worth much, much more.

A doorbell sounds through my speakers. “That’ll be the third person we’re waiting on.” I click around a bit with my heart in my throat. I intentionally didn’t tell her Trina was coming to this meeting. It wasn’t my best moment, but if what Trina said last week is true, I didn’t want Imani to reject the idea before hearing us out.

My heart rate has nothing to do with the fact that Trina’s face is currently filling my screen—her platinum hair falling in curated, messy waves to her shoulders, her lips a bright, kissable raspberry. She looks dewy, as if she just took a quick walk outside in the sweltering July heat. But when I can feel my pants growing tighter at the sight of her gorgeous smile, I’m glad I decided to work from home today.

A quick glance at Imani tells me Trina wasn’t kidding about her being angry. Where a moment ago there was exuberance, now she’s completely blank bordering on glaring at the screen.

“Imani, I believe you’ve met Trina McBryde.”

She nods once, her lips pressed together. “Briefly.”

Trina adjusts the headphone in her ear and smiles sheepishly. “Hi, Ms. Adrian. It’s good to see you again.”

Imani remains so motionless that, if there weren’t a flicker of light behind her, I would think her screen was frozen.

“Right,” Trina says, leaning forward in her chair. “I’m guessing Casey didn’t tell you I’d be in this meeting.” She narrows her eyes slightly, and I imagine she’s looking at my image on her screen. “He didn’t tell me he wasn’t going to mention it to you, but I can see from your face that this likely feels like an ambush.”

Imani remains silent, her face neutral. I open my mouth to respond, but Trina holds up her hand to stop me. “We don’t want to put words in your mouth”—she eyes me pointedly—“so why don’t you tell us what you’re thinking?”

Pausing, Imani’s eyes bounce back and forth as she looks at her screen. Judging by the expression on her face, she’s trying to figure out what is okay to tell us and what she should keep to herself.

“If I may?” I try not to smirk at the way I’m asking permission to speak. Trina nods. “I asked you for this meeting because I want to make an offer on your book. I invited Trina here because she truly is the best in the business, which I’m sure you know if you already sought her out.” I don’t miss the way Trina’s eyelashes flutter at the compliment. “I’m not going to rescind an offer because of what you say here today. You can speak freely without that concern.”

“She lied to me,” Imani spits out quickly, clear hurt flashing over her face. “She said she didn’t have any connections with young adult publishers, but I approached her because you have worked together in the past.”

“I didn’t knowingly lie to you,” Trina says, firm yet gentle. “I wasn’t aware of Casey’s promotion at the time.”

Imani frowns. “How could you not be aware? You know each other.”

“I was distracted,” Trina offers, and I can’t help but feel like she’s actually talking to me.

I suppose I was the one distracting her. No regrets there.

My turn to jump in. “It was new. Trina and I hadn’t talked in a while.”

Trina’s eyes flash, and her nostrils flare as if she’s trying hard not to laugh. I wish she would—I can imagine the cackle she’d let out. Loud, almost abrasive, and honest. It’d go a long way to break the tension we’re all surely feeling.

“We haven’t worked together in a year,” I say as Trina looks at something off screen. “But we’re old friends.” A second later, my phone lights up where it sits next to my laptop.

Trina: She seems young. Wanna bet 20?

Me: 25.

Trina shakes her head almost imperceptibly, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek not to chuckle.

“So why is she here?” Imani asks curiously.