20. Casey #2
“Well, you introduced me to your brother in a really stressful moment, and I don’t know if you wanted to share your family with me or you felt like you had to because I happened to be there.
But you did, and that’s fine…” She furrows her brow, and I have the urge to reach across the desk and smooth it out.
“I mean, obviously this was something really personal for you. And we don’t do personal.
And then I ghosted you for like a week. I realized today that me going quiet might have come off like I’m not okay with your brother.
” Her frown deepens as she shakes her head.
“That doesn’t sound right. I’m not doing a good job of this.
I swear I rehearsed this the whole way over here. ”
Normally, I’d let her keep talking and try to work it out, but she’s so cute as she struggles for words. I fear if I don’t stop her verbally, I’ll have to do it with a kiss.
“I get it,” I say quietly. “You weren’t avoiding me because of him.”
“Avoiding isn’t the word.”
“Is it inaccurate?”
“Yes,” she says quickly. “I was…processing. Not him. All of it.”
I think I see where she’s going. “His disability doesn’t scare you.”
Tilting her head, her hazel eyes bore into me. “I don’t know why it would.”
My heart beats a little faster. “But the window into my family does.”
She sighs, clasping her hands tightly in her lap.
“Not necessarily? But I’d be lying if I told you that wasn’t why I needed some space.
We don’t do that, you know? We do this”—she waves at the office around us—“and we fuck. That was the agreement. And I know you didn’t mean for us to do family, too.
It just happened. But I wanted to tell you it’s okay. ”
I have to try very hard not to smile. “After you took a week deciding whether or not it was okay.”
Rolling her eyes in a full circle, she eventually pins them on me. “I’m not perfect.”
Yes, you are, I want to say, but I narrowly stop myself from letting the words slip out. “We’re good, Trina. We’re on the same page.”
She inhales sharply, then lets the breath out. She doesn’t seem sure, but she changes the subject quickly. “I want to counter your offer to Imani.”
I have my reservations about whether or not that conversation is finished, but if this is where she wants to go, I’ll bite.
“One hundred fifty thousand,” I say. Her jaw drops, and I can’t help but continue.
“Royalties on paperbacks, hardcovers, and audio are twenty, fifteen, and fifteen percent respectively. We control sub rights, but royalties on those will be thirty percent. We’ll foot the bill for a two-month book tour, one month on either side of her debut release.
If she wants to extend it, she can, but it’ll be on her own dime.
We have money for more tours for subsequent books, but we can negotiate that when we get there, depending on how she’s feeling about multiple tours along with writing and editing the rest of the series.
We have exclusive rights to anything in the series she may conceive of after these five books—any spinoffs, novellas, extra books, or bonus chapters.
We’ll release two books a year, six months apart until the series is completed. I think that should about cover it?”
Trina blinks at me, her jaw still on the floor. “You said fifty thousand last week.”
“You told me that was low.”
“It was.”
“So I raised it.”
She stares at me for a moment longer, then flops backward in the chair, crossing her arms. “Those are really good royalties, too.”
It’s taking all of my effort not to laugh. “You sound disappointed.”
“I am!” she exclaims, then waves a hand in front of her face as if to dismiss the words.
“Not at the offer. But I came in here ready to negotiate.” She circles a finger around her lips, as if I hadn’t noticed them.
“I put on my good lipstick for this. I was ready for an hour of back-and-forth, at least.”
“You can try for more, but I’ll be honest, I have to be at least a little conservative with our funds. Some of our writers are looking elsewhere for their next manuscripts, and I’m not sure what that’s going to mean for me.”
Trina shakes her head. “No, I’ll take this back to Imani. I can’t imagine her saying no.” She pauses, considering. “A bonus for hitting bestseller lists?”
A smirk tugs at my lips. I should have known she’d find something to negotiate. “I can do a sliding royalty scale, up to twenty-five, twenty, and twenty after she sells ten thousand.” Anticipating the question she’s going to ask next, I add, “For each book, separately.”
“No cash bonus?”
I shake my head. “We don’t have the liquid funds for that, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it for future manuscripts or series after we’re more established.”
“Okay,” she says slowly. She purses her lips as if she’s not quite sure she wants to say the next thing.
“You mentioned some authors are leaving… Do you want me to ask around the agency to see if anyone has something in the works you might be interested in? Suzanna has been pushing Starlight and this new Morgan & Danielson imprint, but it might be different coming from me.”
I try not to bristle too much at the mention of the other publisher. The last thing I want is for Trina to mount a campaign against—how did Ryan put it? Trash that takes itself out?
“We’re open for submissions,” I say plainly. “I’d be happy to take a look if they want to send manuscripts my way.”
She nods, her hands still clenched tightly in her lap. The toes of her right foot start tapping, but she makes no move to stand or leave. I can’t say I want her to, but I’m not sure what the next play is, or what she’s waiting for.
Her face contorts, half apology and half pain. And when she does finally speak, it’s a whisper that almost stops my heart.
“We shouldn’t keep doing this.”