Page 47 of Not on the Same Page

“Thank you.” I don’t preen at the compliment because, if I know Suzanna, there’s an edge to it that’s coming next. That has happened more times than I can count. Fool me once, and all that.

“I called this meeting because I wanted to talk strategy with you. If everything you’ve told me is true, this author could be big.”

“She will be,” I say. “Casey Endersen asked me to sign her because of her potential to be a bestseller.”

Suzanna frowns, at least as much as she can given her quarterly Botox injections. “I wasn’t aware that you didn’t sign her of your own volition.”

I keep my face carefully blank as I study her image on the screen. “It was my choice,” I say slowly. “I met her in Denver and liked her manuscript enough to consider expanding my genres to young adult. Casey just gave me the push I needed to take the leap.”

She shakes her head slowly. “I hope you’re not thinking about an exclusive submission to this new imprint he’s heading up.”

There are two ways to play this with her—I could either tell her Imani is insisting on just that, or I could approach it from a strategic perspective. Since Suzanna is of the mind that what’s best for the agency—in this case, bigger deals—is best for the writers, I go with option two.

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s a guaranteed offer on a manuscript that isn’t even finished yet. Not only that, but it’s a series, and Starlight is prepared to offer top dollar and position it as their lead title this season.”

Suzanna narrows her eyes. “If that’s the case, then you can use that as leverage to get an even better deal elsewhere.”

“I could,” I concede. “I brought up the possibility with Imani. The problem is that there are no guarantees, and it will undoubtedly be a slow process during which Starlight could be looking for someone else to fill the lead slot.” That’s probably not true, but Suzanna doesn’t know that. “And the manuscript is unfinished,” I remind her. “That makes it a harder sell.”

“An existing offer will negate the lack of ending,” Suzanna responds quickly.

“Starlight is newly acquired,” I counter. “They want to move fast.”

A smile curls on Suzanna’s pink lips. “Ah, but I have new information for you. I have it on good authority that Morgan & Danielson saw what JMP was doing with Starlight and are starting their own young adult imprint, too. This is brand new—I was only notified this morning. They’ll need a lead title as well, and they’ll also want to move quickly.”

I have to stifle the groan that wants to rise up out of me. The thing I hate most about this industry is how every press wants to copy the success of another—from similar titles positioned as rival books to, apparently, genre-specific imprints.

“Ultimately, this is up to Imani,” I say. “She’s going to be a heavy-hitter, and we’ll want to keep her happy.”

“Of course,” Suzanna croons. “I’m not asking that you force anything on her. But if you wanted to use your considerable powers of persuasion to strongly suggest the idea, that would be smart.” She gives me a pointed look, and I am left with the disturbing sense that nothing I said was persuasive at all. She was just letting me work as an exercise.

My fingers twitch in my lap, and I hate how easily my newfound confidence has been chipped. “I’ll ask her.”

“Good.” Suzanna smiles again. “Talk soon.”

The screen goes blank. My head hits the desk as I let out that groan I held in. Of course we can’t just be happy with a quick, exclusive offer on a series. There has to be competition. Which shouldn’t surprise me. Suzanna thrives on contention. She probably drinks the tears of her adversaries for breakfast.

Luckily, this is Casey we’re talking about. He’s a fair negotiator, wants to pay Imani what she’s worth, and…bonus, I like talking to him.

So I pick up the phone to make the call.

18

CASEY

“That’s three authors in one week who have told me they’re not planning to consider Starlight as publisher of their next book.”

I’m standing in Anastasios Martis’s office, arms crossed and foot tapping, off-balance and nervous. I hate feeling this way, especially when my boss and mentor can see exactly how anxious I am.

Anastasios eyes me over his reading glasses and carefully places the paper he had been looking at on his desk. He pushes back in his seat and places his palms on the armrests of his chair. The middle finger of his right hand taps a few times.

“Are these writers you wanted to keep?” he asks simply.

“I sort of thought I’d need to keep all the writers,” I say slowly.

He shrugs. “It’s inevitable that you’d lose a few in a transition like this. Unless their next books are part of a series contracted by Starlight originally, they’re free to go wherever they want even if there hadn’t been a change of leadership.”

“They don’t sound like they even want to consider Starlight though.”