Book Bitch (2 page)

“
Rose, you can still keep calling me Alex.” I guessed that promotions came with more formal name addresses. That wasn’t me. I was just Alex, the same guy she had known for four years.

She smiled. “Let me know if I can get you anythin
g, Alex,” she corrected as she pulled the door closed and left me in the huge, chrome and glass filled office.

Chapter Two

“We’re so proud of you, honey,” my mother said through the telephone. She was my bigge
st fan, by far, and always encouraged me, particularly when I was hard on myself.

“Thanks, Mom. How’s Dad?”

“He’s proud of you, too.”

“I know, Mom. What’s the weather like there?”

“It’s mild. You know how it is here, never predictable. Today it’s sunny and seventy-five degrees, but it doesn’t mean it won’t be thirty with snow tomorrow.” Her small laugh was comforting. Nebraska weather was never cooperative.

“Well, give Dad a hug for me. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, Alex. Sweet dreams.” When I hung up the phone, I thought of how lucky I was to have such a supportive family.

The hot water from the shower felt good again
st the knot in my neck. As I stretched, I hoped to absorb the heat. My first day as protégé wasn’t particularly eventful, but I was stressed. The water rained down on me and I thought about how tense my day had been. I hoped I could keep up with Rebecca Stratford. I always considered myself more of the quiet type. I did my job without too much protest. So long as I was reading, I didn’t need anything else. And if I could find an author that could transcend the book-reading world, I was happy to share. That didn’t mean I couldn’t handle someone who needed my guidance. Still, Rebecca had a ruthless reputation for cutting people down, relentlessly pursuing them until she got what she wanted. Her standards were high, but ultimately the authors and publishers she combined made money, a lot of money. Every project she spearheaded was successful. Her expectations were high and she didn’t give up until everything was perfect. I prided myself on elevated benchmarks as well, but they weren’t as high as Rebecca’s. I guess that’s why she was the best. It made me nervous to think of what could happen if I didn’t keep up. I wasn’t sure how I’d manage the pressure.

My fingers started to prune. It was time to get out of the shower. I wrapped one towel around my waist and used the other to dry my hair. Sifting through my closet, I tried to choose an outfit
for the next day that would impress my new mentor. I laid out black slacks, a simple white dress shirt, and a safe grey, striped tie. I only had one sport coat, black. I lint rolled it and hung it on the doorknob of my bedroom door, ready for my new day as Rebecca Stratford’s shadow.

As I lay in bed, I searched
the ceiling for answers on how I should feel. My brain was a bundle of confusion. On one hand I was elated to be recognized for my hard work, given the opportunity to learn from one of the best agents in the country, if not the world. On the other hand, I was anxious and nervous about screwing up. If I made one mistake, I’d have to suffer the wrath of Rebecca Stratford, the one person who could ruin my future in the literary world. If I didn’t perform at my best all of the time, I’d be working at a fast food chain for sure.

My nerves wouldn’t
let me sleep. I tried reading a book to coax me into slumber, but I read the same page three times before I closed it and returned it to my night table. The last time I looked at the clock it said three-thirty. It was set to wake me at six.

I woke to the music of
Maroon 5. They were singing something about it being harder and harder to breathe. It was appropriate. I felt just that way.

After
I got dressed, I opted for a granola bar for breakfast, thinking it would be easier to purge it if my nerves had their way with my stomach. I tossed the wrapper and locked my apartment door. My neighbor, Mrs. Whitney, was headed back to her door from the trash compactor room.

“Good morning, Mrs. Whitney.”

“Oh Alex, good morning. Don’t you look spiffy.”

“Thanks. I’m starting my new position today. I was promoted yesterday.”

Her eyes widened, smoothing out the multiple of creases that surrounded them. “How wonderful.” She stood in her doorframe. “You know, my niece will be coming to New York next month. Perhaps you’d like to come for dinner the night she visits me?”

I smiled. She was always
talking about her niece. I’m sure she was a lovely, young lady, but I had been in a few relationships, all of which didn’t work out in my favor. Three of the girls left me for other guys. The first said she preferred to be out dancing or taking in New York at night rather than spending a quiet evening being with me. The other two were definitely not women I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. One even stole a few things from my apartment when we broke up. I wasn’t in a rush to get involved with anyone, especially since I didn’t know what my new schedule would be like trailing Rebecca around Manhattan. A chosen single life was the way I opted for these days. “I appreciate the invitation, Mrs. Whitney, but I’ll probably be putting in a lot of hours in my new job. I’ll need to concentrate on establishing myself. I don’t want my boss to think she made a wrong choice with promoting me.”

Mrs. Whitney nodded her head. “I understand. Stil
l, I’ll let you know when she’s here and if you can make it to dinner you have an open invitation.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Whitney.” The elevator door opened and I got in. I gave her a small wave before the doors closed.

The building I lived in was located in the northwest corner of the theater district. I was a block from the number one train. Three stops then a short walk across the island to 28
th
and Park Street brought me to the local deli on the same block as my office building, where I purchased three cups of coffee, regular.

I handed one to Rose when I walked in. “Why, thank you, Alex,” Rose said with a smile.

“Just wanted to start my new job off the right way.” I stopped in front of the closed door.

“You can go in. It’s your office now
, too.”

I hesitated t
hen knocked on the door and waited to be told to enter.

“Come,” I heard
her say. I took a deep breath and walked through to my new career.

Rebecca
was on the phone. A stern voice put the person on the other side into place. “I told you to add that to the contract wording. My client will simply not consider placement with your company without that stipulation being in place. It’s an issue we’re not budging on.” She looked up at me. I handed her a cup of the coffee and backed up. She motioned toward the chair I sat in the day before. I did as I was told. “Fine. I’ll wait for your call. I’m giving you until this afternoon. Then my client and I will consider the other offers that have been made.” She hung up. “What’s this?” she asked.

“
Coffee, regular. I wasn’t sure if that’s how you drink it, but if you tell me, I’ll be sure to get it right from now on.”

A smile spread across her lips. The
y were painted the same color as her pink blouse.

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you
, but that’s not what I meant when I said you’d be assisting me.”

I shifted
in the chair.

“I’ve e-mailed you a copy of our itinerary for today.
In the future, you’ll have direct access to my calendar, as I will yours. For the first several months, we’ll be together for most of what needs doing, until you’re properly groomed. For now, we’ll discuss the projects you’ve been working on for the last few weeks before we leave to meet Gail Cranston, and then we have a lunch with Preston Price.” Gail was the editor-in-chief for one of the largest publishing companies on the east coast. It was almost impossible to even leave a message with her secretary, much less talk to her or see her in person. And I was going to have lunch with her. The benefits of my new position were already paying off.

As she spoke, I found my focus on
Rebecca’s lips. She was gently sipping from the cup I gave her. They mesmerized me. I couldn’t stop looking at them. Their plumpness and shape made me wonder how they felt. Thoughts of pressing my mouth onto hers, just to see if my suspicions were correct, distracted me.

“From there, we’ll head over to Jonathan
Sayers’s office. I make it a monthly stop to see if he’s come across any Indy authors who might have a product worth representation rather than self-publishing. Sometimes, independent authors are worth the investigation and investment,” she said, straightening the papers on her desk. “So, what have you got in the way of potential new writers?” My stupor was interrupted by her hard stare.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll get my files.” I stood and lunged toward my new desk. Picking up the stack of files, I walked back to
Rebecca’s desk. On the way, I tripped on the chair I had just vacated. Heading toward the desk, I stopped just before banging my thigh into the thick glass. Rebecca jumped up from her desk. Her hands braced my upper arms to stop my forward motion. Her touch was electric. Every nerve in my body crackled.

H
eat raced to my face. Averting my gaze, I looked at the files in my hand. “Sorry.” I ventured a slight look up toward her. Perfectly shaped, warm, brown eyes bore into me. The moment was heavy. She realized she had her hands on me and let go. My arms tingled and begged for her to put them back.

“Are you all right?”

“Um, yes. Thank you for stopping me from ramming into your desk. I guess I’m just a little nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?”

I re-took my seat and tried to collect my dignity. “This is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve been waiting my whole life to be a recognized agent, not to mention the world’s best is mentoring me.” I looked at her for her reaction then down at my hands in my lap.

“Listen Alex, if you weren’t any good at what you do, I wouldn’t have chosen you to be my protégé. You’ve accomplished quite a
nice track record during your time here at Stratford Literary. It’s precisely how you’ve conducted yourself up until this point that’s gotten you noticed. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. My job is to refine your method a little.” She began to look through the names on the tabs of folders I had handed her. “Trust me, you’re doing fine.”

That’s just what Lindsey
had said to me the day before. I should start to believe it.

After that, I relaxed and I brought
Rebecca up to date on what I had been working on. Talking with her about good writing was a lot easier than I thought it would be. She recognized many shortfalls and strengths with the writers I shared with her, particularly one I had been very excited about.

“Good.
Call him. Offer him a contract.”

“But you haven’t read his manuscript,” I protested.

“But you have. You said it was good.”

“Yes, but-“

“Then I trust you. I’ve agreed with all of your recommendations so far. That’s another one of the reasons I chose you.”

I sat back in my s
eat, finally feeling validated.

Once
Rebecca and I discussed the accounts I thought were worth a second look, we met with Gail Cranston. Her office was three blocks from ours. Rebecca briefed me on the reason for our appointment as we walked over; she was pitching a new manuscript from a writer she felt would be the next consistent best seller. Although I hadn’t read the manuscript it sounded promising and something that a large chunk of the public would love. I was anxious to see Rebecca in action with her pitch to Ms. Cranston.

Being as nervous as I was,
I had to wipe my hands on my pants twice in the elevator. My first real day and already I was going to meet the biggest publisher in Manhattan. Rebecca strolled out of the elevator as if she were mayor. She checked in with the receptionist and we were escorted to Ms. Cranston’s office.

“Rebecca, how great to see you.”
Ms. Cranston was a tall, thin, very well dressed, older woman, maybe in her early fifties; a cross between Jackie O and Helen Gurley Brown. Her expression was serious, but not devoid of a smile.

“
Gail, this is Alex Ryan. My new protégé.”

I shook her hand. “It’s a great honor to meet you, Ms.
Cranston.”

She offered us a seat at a small table she had in the corner of her office. “Can I get you some coffee, something to drink?”

“Nothing for me, thank you,” Rebecca said, taking a seat at the table.

I shook my head. “No, thank you.” I sat next to Rebecca.

Gail Cranston took the seat on the other side of Rebecca.

Re
becca started the meeting. “Gail, you know I like to get right to the meat of the meeting. I’m going to have lunch with Preston Price right after I leave you. He needs a short extension on his work in progress. Can I give him until the first of the month? I promise I’ll get it to you as soon as I’ve gone through it, and you know I’ll do my best to have that within the week he gives it to me.”

Gail
smiled. “Rebecca, you know I’ll give you whatever you want. You don’t have to get back to me until the end of the month.”

Rebecca smiled. “Okay, but I’m still telling Preston the first. That way it gives me time to make sure it’s perfect for you.
Also, I’ve brought this manuscript for you to look at. This girl has talent. I’m thinking a three-book deal to start.  You’ll be able to get a series out of her.”