Chapter 6
Ryan
Scarlett Frye is standing in the conference room at Anastasios Press. At first, I’m almost sure I’m seeing a ghost, but no. She doesn’t look like a ghost at all. Her skin is still smooth and milky white like it was before, but her cheeks are rosy, which they never were then. Not at the end anyway. She’s curvier, too. Healthier. Like she’s been taking time out of her day to eat—something I was never able to get her to do. Her dark brown hair is shorter now, falling just past her shoulders in soft waves. And her eyes… Those blue eyes are brighter. Sharper. Somehow lovelier than they were before. Or maybe they faded in my memory, though I don’t think that could possibly be the case. My memories of her have consumed so much of my life since she left; every detail of her has been etched in stark relief in my mind’s eye.
And yet, here she is. Even more beautiful than I remember.
Eventually, the commotion dies down. We sit with our team on one side of the large conference table and Scarlett and Trina on the other. Scarlett looks like she might bolt at any minute, with her back ramrod straight and her eyes fixed on the table in front of her. Trina lays a hand on her knee and glances at her questioningly. Scarlett merely nods but doesn’t meet her gaze.
I see now why Trina was being cryptic with Casey on the phone. I also understand what it was about this book that had me in such a chokehold. It’s Scarlett’s. Her words have always had that kind of effect on me.
Casey’s frustrated huff breaks the silence, but it does little to dispel the tension in the room. From the piercing gaze he has pinned on Trina and the drumming of his fingers against the top of the table, my best guess would be he’s about ready to shut this down.
“Well,” he starts, and the word sounds pinched. “This is less than ideal.”
“Can someone explain to me what he is doing here? I pitched this project to you.” If looks could kill, the one Trina gives Casey would have him on the floor.
“And I loved what I read.” Casey’s gaze slides to Scarlett, who still won’t look up, and his expression softens slightly. “It’s beautiful prose, and I guess now I know why. But I signed three high-maintenance debuts this year. I’m booked. Ryan, here, has been in a rut, so I thought this would snap him out of it. I was right.”
Trina’s earrings jingle as she shakes her head. “That doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me that from the start.”
“I won’t lie to you—we wanted this book,” Casey says, and from the way Trina reels back, she didn’t miss his use of the past tense. “You were the one who said the author is skittish, and you wanted this meeting anyway, so I figured this would be a good time to gently pass the project on to Ryan.”
Trina folds her arms over her chest as she leans back in her chair. “You deceived us.”
“So did you,” Casey snaps.
“I like a little drama. So sue me.” Trina throws her hands in the air and brings them down with a light smack on the table. “It’s not every day a best-selling author stages a comeback.”
“Let’s everyone take a breath,” Meri interjects, spreading her palms flat on the table. “All is not lost, surely. And while I don’t know exactly why this is such an issue, from a PR standpoint, it’s brilliant. Since we’re talking about comeback stories, they’re great for publicity, which is, in turn, great for sales. So, can someone please explain how everyone knows each other so we can come to some kind of solution?”
I glance at Scarlett, but her lips are pressed tightly together, and she’s still staring at the table like it’s the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen. Dragging in a deep breath through my nose, I let it fill my lungs before saying, “We dated. Back when Casey and I were both with JMP. Scarlett was one of our authors.” It’s not enough to encompass all that we were to each other, but it’s the best I can do without coming across as the sad sack I’ve been for the last five years.
Meri snorts, and everyone but Scarlett’s gaze flies to her. “I’m sorry.” Her voice is edged with laughter. “That’s it? You dated years ago, and now you’re both, what? In your thirties? And you can’t work professionally together?”
“That’s not it,” Scarlett says almost inaudibly. Fuck, even her voice is more beautiful than I remember. Hearing it fills me with an ache so deep, I’m afraid I might never recover.
But I must have been the only one who heard it, because Trina barrels through. “Surely there’s another editor who could take this on, then.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. JMP will not like it,” Casey responds immediately, without thinking. His hot-headedness is getting the best of him, and I know I’m going to need to speak up soon if we’re going to save this deal.
“Why? You yourself have told me that Anastasios has full autonomy to buy whatever books you think will sell. And this book will sell.” She stabs the table with each word.
“We have autonomy, yes,” Casey admits. “But Scarlett is…not well liked over there.” He avoids looking at her as he mumbles, “No offense.”
Scarlett doesn’t move.
That doesn’t stop Trina. “You and your other editor ”—she injects as much disdain as she can into the words—“think this book is great, which it is. Your publicity expert agrees that it could be brilliantly marketed, and I know Anastasios Press could use the buzz from what will not only be a bestseller but a comeback for the literary community. Right, Meri?”
Meri glances at Casey and winces apologetically. “We both know that’s true, Casey.”
“Book deals are about timing and gut feelings as much as the book itself,” he counters.
“You can’t honestly tell me your gut isn’t doing a goddamn happy dance about this one,” Trina shoots back. “You passed it off to him because you knew it was something special.” It doesn’t escape me that she has not once looked at me, nor has she used my name. I groan internally. This is going to be an uphill battle.
“Even so, it’s soured a bit now,” he replies.
“You really want us to take this book to another press, then?” Leave it to Trina to cut right to the chase and call his bluff.
Casey takes a breath to respond, but I don’t let him. “No,” I say sharply, leaving no room for argument. He turns his ire to me in a glare, but that’s okay. I can take it.
I pin my gaze to Scarlett, silently hoping she knows what I’m about to say is for her and her alone. “ Becoming is already one of the most breathtaking books I’ve ever read. I would be honored to work on it, but I’m smart enough to offer to step aside and let someone else here have it. That’s how important I think this book will be. But Trina is right. Anastasios needs it. The world needs it.” I need it , I finish silently. But this isn’t about me.
Scarlett still won’t look at me, but her throat works against a swallow. She blinks a few times, and it’s the most emotion I’ve seen from her since I walked into the room.
Trina waves a hand in my direction. “See?” she says to Casey. “So find someone else to edit it.”
“We can,” I assure her, even though the thought of letting this book into someone else’s hands pains me. “I would still love the opportunity, but regardless, Casey and I were prepared to offer a lot of money to acquire this title. He can get over his hurt pride for the sake of the press.”
Scarlett winces at the mention of money, and Trina glances at her, as if checking in.
I frown at that. She was never one to balk at talk of money before. In fact, she never seemed to care about it, even in the end when JMP offered her over a million dollars for more. It was about the writing for her, she said. The importance of the art. Getting paid to do it was a bonus.
Casey and Trina start to go at it again, which has Meri looking like she’s trying very hard not to roll her eyes into the back of her head, but something about the way Scarlett has withered from the healthy version of herself I saw when I came in to whatever silent shell she’s become now has me on high alert.
“Stop,” I say. When they don’t hear me, I say it louder. “Stop.”
They do, then, and turn to look at me.
I clear my throat. “We’re all sitting here talking about this deal and this book and the author herself as if she’s not sitting right in front of us with opinions of her own. Yes, this deal would be important for Anastasios. Yes, we were all deceived. And yes, even before knowing who wrote it, this book has meant something to me that I can’t quite put into words. But I, for one, want to know what Scarlett thinks about this whole thing before we go any further.”
That gets her attention. Her brilliant blue eyes fly to me, and some of the tension releases from her shoulders and face.
There she is , I think as my heart skips a beat. I give her a small smile, and she returns the ghost of one across the table.
I expect her to reject this whole thing out of pocket and prepare for how much it’s going to sting when she does. But she keeps regarding me with those blue eyes, and I find myself mesmerized by them like I always was.
“You loved it?” she finally asks.
It takes me a second to realize she hasn’t just shot me down. It takes another to register the hope in the lift of her chin and the angle of her brows. One more and it dawns on me that she’s asking what I think, not because of any deal but because my opinion of her work still matters.
“Scarlett,” I say, and her name sounds pained on my lips, even to me. “ Loved isn’t a strong enough word.”
Her eyes glisten as that hits home, like I knew it would. Everything goes still as I hold my breath, waiting for her to collect herself enough to respond.
“I want you to do it,” she says.
And that’s about when everything erupts again. Meri brings out her tablet to start drafting a marketing plan. Casey, begrudgingly on board, opens up his laptop to start taking notes on negotiations for the contract department to draw up paperwork.
Trina, to her credit, turns in her chair to fully face Scarlett and says, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Are you sure?”
Scarlett tears her eyes away from me to turn her attention to her agent. “No,” she says, and I have to chuckle at her honesty. “But he loved the book without knowing I wrote it, without any preconceived notions. And if I know Ryan…” She trails off and looks at me again. “There’s no one who will take care of my story the way he will.”
As if that weren’t enough to make my entire year, Scarlett smiles at me. It’s a soft smile, one that only teases at the corners of her lips, but it’s reflected in her eyes. It warms me from head to toe.
“I promise your book is in good hands,” I say, because I have to say something before this feeling completely consumes me.
“I know,” she replies with all the confidence in the world.