18. Casey
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.”
Anastasios tilts his head back and forth. “It might just be that they want to test the waters elsewhere. They could still come back.”
I shift my weight on my feet and narrow my eyes at him. “You don’t seem concerned.”
“You shouldn’t be either.” When I blink at him incredulously, he smirks.
“A little fall off is to be expected. If you spend time mourning those who have left you, you’ll inevitably forget to focus on those who stay.
It’ll become a self-fulfilling prophecy, and the imprint will fold within the year.
I’ve been there, Casey. Merit will prevail, and the rest will do as they may.
Don’t worry about them. Focus on what you’ve got in front of you.
Make their experience so good that they do your recruiting for you. ”
It’s not bad advice, per se. I’m just not used to losing writers. The ones who have worked with me are almost always happy. Plus, something about this feels off. Why would three writers all announce their departure within one week? It’s too much of a coincidence.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll…try to do that.”
“Do.” Anastasios nods once, then cocks an eyebrow. “I heard you picked up a great debut in Denver.”
“It’s not official. She needed an agent, so I set up a meeting with her and Trina. They’re working on their contract, and then she’ll be in touch.”
At that, both of Anastasios’s dark eyebrows rise with interest. “Trina McBryde? She hasn’t been around in a while.”
If it were anyone else, I’d think he were fishing for information.
After everything blew up with Scarlett last year, it was easy to let everyone assume that Trina was taking a step away from working with us for a while.
And when she didn’t come back with more pitches, I thought I was the only one who really noticed.
“I figured she’d be the best agent to handle Imani’s success.” Short, simple, and true. I’ll leave it at that.
“You hope she has the type of success Trina will need to handle,” Anastasios adds.
I shake my head. “I know she will.”
He eyes me again. “That’s the attitude you need to make it in this industry.”
“Slightly delusional?” I joke.
“Confident,” he corrects, but he smiles as he says it. “And willing to take calculated risks.”
“And focused on loyal authors.”
“They will be your bread and butter.” He picks the paper he had been reading back up in a clear signal that he has important things to do, and this conversation needs to be over.
With a little thrill, I realize I also have things I need to do.
I say a quick “thank you” and walk back to my office.
After shutting the door behind me, I check my cell phone, which I had left on my desk in my haste to talk to Anastasios.
There’s a missed call from Trina, and when a goofy smile creeps up my face, I’m glad my office door is closed and I’m alone.
I waste no time returning her call. She answers on the second ring.
“You used to carry your cell phone everywhere,” she says by way of greeting.
“I was ten steps away, talking to Anastasios for five minutes.”
“Still.” She sighs. “I sent Imani the agency contract today. She should get it back to me any time now. When can we start talking about her offer?”
“Whenever you want.” I settle into my chair. “Tonight at my place? Or yours?”
She makes a little non-committal noise. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are dangerously close to mixing business and pleasure.”
“Not mixing. Strictly business.” I can’t help but smirk as I add, “Then pleasure.”
“Casey,” she whines, but her voice shakes with restrained laughter. “Oh my god. Stop. I was thinking I could pop by your office later.”
I spin in my chair so my back is facing the door. “You were the one who said no fucking in the office.”
A low groan comes through the phone, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“If you want to work together, I’m going to need you to take this seriously.”
That sobers me up. I spin back to face my desk and rest my elbows on it. “You’re right. I do. I am.”
She’s silent for so long I have to look to be sure the call didn’t get disconnected. Out of nowhere, she says, “Shit, hearing I’m right is a major turn on.”
That pulls a laugh out of me that I’m completely unable to hold back. I can picture Trina’s triumphant smile, and I’m struck with the sudden urge to kiss it. Honestly, I wish she would stop by the office. I’d do more with her on this desk than kiss her like I did last time.
“Fine,” she says, humor dripping from her voice. “Want to come over when you’re done there? I want to talk to Imani first, anyway.” She pauses, but the air is charged, like she’s shifting her tone. “I just talked to Suzanna. Full disclosure, she wants me to persuade Imani to shop around.”
“You can.” I channel some of that confidence Anastasios told me I needed. “Do what’s best for her.”
“Yeah, but the promise of an easy deal was tempting,” she grouses. “Anyway, I promised Suzanna I’d see what Imani thought. I just…don’t think she’s going to like the idea, so I don’t plan on trying very hard.”
“That’s my girl.”
Shit. That slipped out. But as soon as I open my mouth to try to correct myself, Trina sighs.
“Oh.” She clears her throat. “No. No mixing work and extracurriculars.”
“I didn’t,” I protest, but I can almost see her glare.
“Would you call any other agent ‘my girl’?”
No, I absolutely would not. It would be highly inappropriate.
When I don’t say anything, she hums. “That’s what I thought.” Thankfully, she seems to overlook the obvious correction she should make, which is that she isn’t my anything. We’re letting off steam. That’s all. Nothing more.
“Won’t happen again.” It’s a promise I wish I didn’t have to keep.
Thankfully, she’s always been willing to negotiate nuance.
“We have to be very careful about blurring lines, Casey. That could get dangerous. But…” She pauses, and it feels like she’s warring with herself about whether or not to say what comes next.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to something like that during the pleasure part of the evening. ”
My dick twitches in my pants as my half smile grows. I’d better end this conversation before someone comes in here and needs me to stand up. “I’ll see you tonight, Trina.”
“Looking forward to it.”
We hang up and I almost immediately swipe over to the app my barber, Jayden, uses.
He’s a younger guy who rents a chair in a shop that opened in my neighborhood a couple of years ago.
Sometimes I just walk in and wait for an open chair, but Jayden taking appointments is new—a necessity borne of the clientele in the neighborhood needing faster service, and I want to make sure to get in with him today.
I’m always feeling my best after seeing him.
He’s got an opening in two hours, and even though I know it’s risky given everything I have to do to reach out to authors, set up campaigns, check in with Starlight’s publicist, and about a thousand other things, I book it.
After wrapping up a few quick emails and making a list of calls to make in the car on the way, I pack up my laptop and leave.
“Hey, man.” Jayden clasps my hand before waving at the chair. “Good to see you.”
“Yeah, you too.” I sink down into the seat, the leather molding and curving around me. The smell of the leather combined with the various products is a familiar one that eases something in me. I relax almost immediately.
The shop décor has a modern feel, but it still has all the important qualities that remind me of the barber shop Dad used to take Robert and me to when we were younger.
The exposed brick and sleek, black-and-white walls and black leather chairs aren’t at all the same as the faded paint and worn chairs of my childhood barber.
But in all the important ways, the shop is the same as the one I used to go to.
There is still a bell over the door and chairs in the front where clients wait.
Everyone is talking or listening to someone.
Even though I don’t know anyone in here besides Jayden and a couple of the other barbers, it doesn’t matter.
This is a hub, a place for people to congregate, spend time, talk to each other, and leave feeling rejuvenated in more ways than just having a sharp haircut. Though the cuts are great, too.
“Didn’t I see you last week?” Jayden asks as he drapes the cape around my neck.
The buzzing of clippers from the chairs on either side of me create almost a wall of white noise.
I can speak up for everyone to hear me and weigh in, or I can keep it a quiet, almost private conversation between Jayden and me.
“Something wrong with coming in every week?” I joke. There’s nothing wrong with it. Many men do if they have the time and the means. But I’m an every-three-week regular. The fact I’ve been coming in more often lately is bound to raise some questions.
Jayden smirks, shaking his head. “Nah. I told you, you can ditch those at-home clippers any time.”