28. Casey
CASEY
“Hi, Nora.” I greet Anastasios’s secretary as I walk up to his office door. “Is he in?”
After a sleepless night worrying about Imani and Trina and the state of Starlight, the only thing I can think to do when I get to the office is pick Anastasios’s brain about the whole thing.
Well, everything except my relationship with Trina.
That’s something I’m going to have to figure out on my own.
Nora shakes her head, her black, blunt-cut bob and large earrings jingling with the motion. “He called this morning. He won’t be in for a while. Something about a family emergency.”
Frowning, I push my hands into my pockets. “Is everything okay?”
She shrugs, her purple blouse shifting with the motion. “He didn’t say what was going on, but he asked that I cancel his appointments this week.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “The whole week?”
Nodding solemnly, she says, “At least.”
My cheeks puff as I blow out a breath. I glance at Ryan’s office door a ways down the hall, and that room looks dark too.
“Is Ryan in?” I ask.
“Doctor’s appointment,” she answers, smiling to herself. “I told him he better bring some ultrasound pictures this time. Something I can help you with?”
“Unfortunately, no.” I shake my head and turn to walk back to my office. “Thanks, Nora.”
I guess I’m on my own on this one, at least for today.
Normally, that would be fine, except this time, I’m completely fucking lost. I had thought if I could solve the publishing problem, at least that might boost my confidence enough to solve the Trina problem.
If everything worked out on that front, she wouldn’t have anything to worry about, and we could carry on as we were.
But as it turns out, I’m stuck with both problems and my own devices, which so far haven’t proven useful.
As I turn the corner, I see Bethany from Starlight’s publicity offices standing outside my door. When she sees me, she winces but tries to cover it up with a small smile.
This won’t be good news, then.
“How are you, Bethany?” I greet her as I hold my office door open.
“Well, I’d be a lot better if I had stayed off socials this morning.” She flops into the chair facing my desk and laughs nervously. “Too bad that’s, like, my whole job. Have you seen the announcement?”
“What announcement?”
She scrunches up her nose, which makes her look even younger than she is.
She was a new hire before I took over—a book influencer with a fresh degree in marketing.
So far, she’s been great at rallying excitement on our social media pages, but from her tense posture and terse expression, I’m trying to gauge whether she’s going to present an actual problem or something that only feels bigger than it is.
“Halo Sun acquired a new fantasy series,” she finally says.
“Okay,” I say slowly. That’s not the best news, but it’s expected. Young adult readers love fantasy series, so it makes sense he’d acquire one. “Where’s the problem?”
“They announced today that it’ll have the same release date as Keeper of Secrets.”
“Motherfucker,” I mutter under my breath.
I can’t afford to lose it now. As much as I’d love to scream in frustration, that won’t do anyone any good. I’m supposed to be in charge here. I’m supposed to have the answers.
Taking in a deep breath through my nose, I give myself a moment to think.
Ashton is clearly trying to get on my nerves.
It’s possible he’s goading me. But he’s playing with fire.
I was the one who paid attention in school, who earned this promotion through hard work and skill.
If I had to guess, he begged for his with false bravado.
“The cream rises,” Mom would have told me. So I guess that means it’s time to rise.
“Okay. I’m about to get a phone call in less than an hour from—” I almost choke on Trina’s name.
Hold it together, Endersen. “Imani’s team,” I recover.
“I need all hands on deck with a plan for publicity that will land Keeper onto a bestseller list. Interviews, preorder campaigns, book clubs, a calendar of social media posts. Pick Meri’s brain, too. She’s been here before.”
My office phone rings, and I can’t help but cringe. So it begins.
“I can have you a general plan within an hour.” Bethany stands, taking her cue.
“Thanks.” I rest my hand on the receiver and wait for Bethany to close the door behind her before answering. “Hello?”
“Not the phone call I wanted to be making this morning.” Trina’s voice comes through the receiver, raspy and defeated and completely lacking her normal sparkle.
“What phone call did you want to make this morning?” I work hard to keep all the hope out of my voice, even as I pray she’ll answer that she wants to talk about what happened last night.
“I didn’t want to make any phone calls this morning,” she returns. “I was hoping to sleep in. Instead, I spent most of last night assuring and reassuring Imani that whatever she heard about Starlight is patently untrue only to be woken up with another crisis.”
Utterly deflated and trying desperately not to let on, I decide to keep it short. “Not a crisis.”
“Okay.” She draws the word out. “I don’t even want to ask if you’ve heard the news from Halo Sun.”
“We have it handled.”
The line is silent for a moment before Trina sighs right into the mouthpiece, causing me to pull the phone away from my ear as the staticky noise grows louder. “How could you possibly have this handled? They posted the announcement less than an hour ago.”
“Are you suggesting I don’t know how to deal with this, too?” I snap. It’s not fair—she’s just doing her job—but I can’t help it. The wound from last night is still too raw, and my newly-bolstered belief in myself is still too fragile.
“For fuck’s sake, Casey.”
I had expected her to explode—wanted her to, even. At least then, I might have had something to latch on to. Some kind of emotion that shows she cares deeply about any of this. But her words are flat, compliant.
She’s given up. On me, most likely, because she’d never give up on her job.
“You’ll have a plan from Bethany by close of business.” I keep my words curt and flat to try to disguise the pain rising from my chest.
Trina is quiet for so long that I have to check to make sure she didn’t hang up on me. After a while, she takes a quiet breath. “I’m sorry things happened this way.”
It’s not quite an apology, but it’s an olive branch. Unfortunately, I can’t tell if it’s meant to bridge a gap in our relationship or smooth things over so we can work together. And, frankly, I don’t want to find out because if this is just about work for her, it might be the blow that ends me.
“Me too,” I say simply, still fighting against the hurt bubbling up like hot lava in my chest. “You’ll hear from Bethany soon.”
“Right.” She sounds as if she’s coming out of a trance. “Thanks.”
And with a click, the line goes dead.
Gently, I set the phone back on its cradle and press my palms into my eyes to try to stop the tears. I’m not even sure which emotion is the strongest—sadness, frustration, the fear of failure that has been looming over my shoulder since I took this new role.
“Give yourself a minute, then get up and get back out there,” Mom used to say. We were never a household where we were told that boys don’t cry. But we were a family who prided themselves on their strength when things got tough.
So, that’s what I do. I give myself a minute to feel it, wipe my eyes, and take a deep breath before marching over to the publicity offices armed with the knowledge that I’m better at this than he is. I always have been.
If Ashton Cochran wants to fight, I’ll fight.