Chapter 13
I knocked on Rob’s office door while glancing down the hall toward Rebecca’s. She’d join us when she got off her phone call. That’s what Cole had said when I stopped by on my way here.
“Come in,” came Rob’s muffled reply.
I took a deep breath. This was it. The moment my life was going to change. Or at least the moment it was going to take a massive step forward.
Two hours ago, I’d arrived at the office, completed my morning tasks, and immediately started reading author queries from the email slush pile.
The very first email was amazing: the story interesting, the voice fun and refreshing.
I read the five sample pages she’d included.
Those were even better! The first email of the day!
That never happened. I took it as a sign.
Sloane was right. Positive energy was in the air. The universe was providing.
I opened the door and stepped into Rob’s office. He was sitting behind his desk. A book was open on top of it, but his attention was on the computer.
“Hi,” I said.
“Margot, good morning again.” He’d said good morning on his way into the office thirty minutes earlier. It was weirdly formal, but that’s where we were at this point.
“Yes, good morning.”
“Could you grab me a cup of coffee? I haven’t had a chance to get to the lounge yet.”
The agents called the break room “the lounge.” They probably thought it sounded fancier than what the break room was: a couple tables and chairs, a microwave, a fridge, and a coffee maker. A break room.
When I didn’t move, he said, “I think my mug is in the sink. If not, I have one in the cupboard as well.”
“Don’t let him play any head games,” Sloane had said that morning during our practice session.
Was this a head game? Either way, I didn’t want to start on his bad side, so I left his office and rushed to the break room. I should’ve worn flats today. I’d put on my heels for confidence but I felt like I was going to fall flat on my face.
“Hey, Margot,” Cole said from his seat at a table.
“Oh, hey. How are you?” I went to the sink. Rob’s dirty mug was in there from the day before, unwashed. Ironically, it said world’s greatest boss on the side. I’d given it to him two years ago when that sentiment was truer.
“Living the dream,” Cole said, raising a carrot stick to me. The carrot made me think of Oliver and the woman who’d told him he was rideable. I had to stifle a laugh.
I rinsed out the mug, then filled it, and left Cole with a “Keep dreaming.” It sounded more sarcastic than I meant for it to.
I was forced to walk slower on the way back. I’d filled the cup too full. Rookie mistake. In my left hand, I held a handful of creamers and sugar packets. Rob didn’t take either in his coffee, but if this was about control, I was prepared.
I slid the coffee onto his desk.
He gave it a quick glance. “Oh, can you—”
I dumped my handful of additives next to the mug.
“Always one step ahead of me,” he said with a wink.
I smiled when what I really wanted to do was sigh. Then, without waiting to be asked, I sat in the big rolling chair opposite him and clasped my hands together.
“I noticed on the schedule—”
“It’s me. Your eleven o’clock is me.”
His eyebrows popped up. I sensed with his coffee stunt that he already knew it was me.
Had put two and two together with the phone number I’d added next to the appointment.
He must’ve known my number after all. Or maybe Rebecca had told him.
But with the expression on his face now, I second-guessed myself.
Maybe he really did want creamer in his coffee today.
When he picked it up without adding any, however, and took a sip, he had me confused all over again. This was the story of our whole relationship.
It’s going to go well , I reminded myself. The amazing first query this morning, my celebration with Oliver later, the party tonight. All good vibes. I tried to channel my inner Audrey for this encounter: cool, calm, confident.
“You said we could talk,” I said. “I put myself in your schedule so we could do that.”
“I said we could talk?” His eyes shot to the open door behind me.
Now I really did sigh. He thought I wanted to talk about us. “About becoming a full-time agent, Rob,” I clarified.
“Oh!” he said, and relief washed over his face. “Today isn’t the best—”
“I scheduled us an hour. You have an hour.”
An amused smirk came on his face, then he held his hands out to his sides as if to say, The floor is yours.
Nobody in our little office had moved from assistant to agent in the time I’d worked here.
Most assistants lasted a year or so and moved on to positions outside the company (it’s what I should’ve done.
Except… I was screwing my boss). I thought he’d tell me the steps to make it happen.
But obviously he was waiting for me to lay out a plan.
I looked over my shoulder for Rebecca, but she wasn’t here yet.
“I was thinking we could start by giving me full ownership of the clients I’m a junior agent on.
” That would mean I wouldn’t have to split commission.
“We sold them on you by promising me. That won’t work.”
“I have a strong relationship with all of them.”
“Knock knock,” Rebecca said from behind me, and my shoulders relaxed a degree. It felt like I suddenly had backup. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Rebecca,” Rob said. “Margot and I are about to have—”
“I know!” she said, coming in and sitting in the chair beside me. “She asked me to join. I’m surprised you didn’t ask me since this involves the agency.”
“It’s just a preliminary meeting,” he said. “Of course I intended to have an agency meeting once I assessed her readiness.”
They met eyes and I could’ve sworn a little smirk came onto Rebecca’s face, making me question the nature of their relationship all over again. No, I was just imagining it.
Rob turned back to me with a hardness behind his eyes I didn’t recognize. He was angry I’d invited Rebecca. Or angry I hadn’t told him I’d invited her. Or angry about the meeting. He was angry about something . “Is there more to your plan?” he asked.
I swallowed, sat up straighter, and tried to remember the rest of the speech I had practiced with Sloane that morning, but my mind was blank after his rejection of what I thought was a given.
I grasped at the first thought that came to me.
“I found a manuscript in the slush this morning that I’m really interested in.
I thought maybe…” Be confident, Margot. “It would make a great manuscript for me to solo on.”
“You want to offer solo representation to a person who emailed me ?”
A lump rose in my throat as embarrassment took over and I swallowed it down. I inhaled a calming breath. “Yes. It’s the type of story you typically pass on. But you’re welcome to look at the query to make sure.”
His eyes went wide. “I’m welcome to look at a query written to me?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, realizing my misstep.
Rebecca stepped in with a save. “And you think this aspiring writer will accept your proposal? It’s not what she’ll be expecting,” Rebecca asked.
I was confused. I thought sharing the slush pile was a standard practice. Maybe it wasn’t standard for this agency.
“I think I’m good at selling myself,” I said, even though I wasn’t proving it in this particular moment.
Rob templed his fingers. “You’ll need to start by putting yourself out there as yourself and wait to see if writers email you.
You post on your socials, you announce yourself in Publishers Marketplace, you go to conferences and then you start sifting through the emails that come in hoping for one that shines. ”
“I can definitely sift through emails,” I said. “I’ve been doing it for four years. I think I found half your current list. And I found all the writers we coagent on.” I offered Rob an innocent smile with my very true statement.
He brushed over the fact as if it wasn’t a big deal. “You won’t have quite as big a selection, which will make the standouts few and far between. Nobody knows who you are.”
“But I could have my face and bio on the agency website?” I suddenly wished I hadn’t invited Rebecca. I couldn’t say the things I wanted to say. Like: You owe this to me, Rob. Or: I’m not making this up; this is how you told me it would work in the past.
“If Rebecca and Dusty are okay with that.”
Rebecca nodded. “We can have a more in-depth meeting, the three of us.”
“Sounds good.” He clapped his hands together like the meeting was over.
Rebecca stood as if the clap dismissed her as well. “This was fun. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Thanks for making the time,” I said, staying firmly in my seat.
She lingered in the doorway before Rob winked at her and she exited the room. My breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t imagined that.
When she left, Rob picked up the phone.
“Wait,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows.
“You’re going to make this happen.” I stared at him.
He stared back.
“Right?” I added. I shouldn’t have added that. It weakened my statement.
“Hopefully.”
My chest was tight with anger now. It clawed its way up and wrapped a hand around my throat.
I didn’t want to let my emotions take over, so I tried to push it back down.
“I don’t expect you to hand over clients you’re passionate about, but if there’s one that isn’t a fit for your list, you can suggest me as an alternative. ”
He let out a hearty laugh. When I didn’t join him, he said, “Oh, you’re serious?”
My eyes stung. Shit. I was going to cry. I could not cry. I sucked in a breath and stood.
Before I even took a single step, he said, “Margot, don’t do that to me again.”
I paused, not understanding what he meant.
He looked toward the hall. “Inviting another agent without informing me first, putting yourself on my schedule. It was unprofessional and immature. Proves exactly why you’re still where you are.”
“Are you sleeping with her?” I asked in a low voice.
His face paled before he recovered with a slimy smile. “Of course not. Is that what this is about?”
“You’re an ass,” I spit out, and whirled around.
The chair I’d been sitting in shot across the room with my sharp movement.
I didn’t return it to its place, I just marched toward the door.
So much for keeping my emotions in control.
When I had almost made my escape, my ankle rolled to the side, my heel not supporting my angry gait.
I nearly tripped, but caught myself by the door handle and finished my walk out.