Pretense (51 page)

"Yes," Mackenzie said, regaining her composure.

"Good, because there's one other thing. The contract is for this book and four others like it. I want a Micah Bear series."

"You can't be serious," Mackenzie wasted no time in saying.

"I'm very serious. You see, Mackenzie, you can't get enough of this bear in one book. Children and parents alike will be looking for more. They'll want to know about Christmas, his

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birthday, a trip to Grandma's, the first day of school, anything. Do you see what I mean?"

"Yes, and I would like to say yes we can do that, but since my sister does the artwork, and she doesn't even know about this, I'll have to-"

"She doesn't know about this?"

Mackenzie could see that she had stunned him. Her voice a bit cool, more to protect herself than anything else, she gave him a swift rundown on what had transpired. She relaxed again when he smiled.

"That was a neat thing to do. How do you think she'll respond?"

"Since you're not tearing the art apart, I think she'll be fine. But I'll certainly have to speak with her."

"Well do, by all means. Tell her I'm very impressed. We'd like to start production ASAP. You'll both have to sign the contract, which means we'll have to send it to her. In fact, if you want to sign now, I can mail it to her. She can look it over and call me with any questions."

Mackenzie almost smiled. She could see why Paxton had warned her; they probably gave all new authors the rush-act.

"I believe I'll take some time with this," Mackenzie countered smoothly, watching the editor smile.

"All right. Can I expect to hear back from you in say, a week?"

"I'm not sure." Mackenzie suddenly felt very much in control, and again Tom smiled. He liked her; he liked her a lot. When Paxton had told him that she wasn't 20 yet, he'd expected a kid. And she was young, but she was not someone to be pushed around.

"Here's my card," Tom said, taking one from his pocket and handing it to her. "Call me after you've talked with your sister, and we'll see if we can come to some sort of agreement."

"All right. Thank you, Mr. Magy, for your time."

"Call me Tom, and may I return the thanks. It really is a great book. You and your sister are very talented. I hope we can work together."

He saw her to the door, and Mackenzie walked to the elevator, out of the building, and to her Jeep in a state of shock. It had all happened so quickly. Statements from Paxton earlier in the week about the way contracts work were the only thing that had kept her from peppering the man with questions. Mackenzie broke every speed limit getting to Paxton's place.

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Twenty-Nine

"A contract," Mackenzie said for the twentieth time. "He gave me a contract."Paxton was still reading it. Jodi was out, and Mackenzie had no one to talk to. She paced around like a caged animal while the editor sat relaxed on the long sofa.

"It's standard IronHorse fare," Paxton said at last. "I just have a few suggestions for you."

"Okay. What are they?" She sat close to him like an eager puppy.

"I think you should ask for more books, you know, the freebies. This number is too low. And I'd go up a percentage point on the royalties if I were you, maybe even two. He won't balk at that, but then I'd also ask for-"

The figure he named made Mackenzie's pretty mouth swing open. "You can't be serious. He's already offered so much. If I do that he'll say, 'Forget it,' and I'll lose the whole deal."

"No, Mackenzie, he won't. I've already told you that all contracts are negotiable. He'll just-"

"No, Paxton." She wouldn't let him finish. "It won't work. I'm a nobody. No one's heard of Micah Bear or Mackenzie and Delancey Bishop. He'll laugh and tell me to get out."

She was on her feet again, pacing and waving her arms. She had kicked her shoes off and even dropped her earrings on the coffee table. Paxton let her flap around and spoke calmly when she finally turned to him.

"I don't think he'll give you all the money up front, but, Mackenzie, it's not that much per book."

"What if the books don't sell? We'll have to give it all back."

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"That's not the way it works. Advance money is an advancement against future royalties. If books don't sell, it's the publisher who's out. You wouldn't get any more money, but you wouldn't have to give back what they've advanced you either."

"Oh." Mackenzie understood for the first time.

"Listen, Mackenzie," Paxton went on, "we could hash this over for a week, but the thing you need to do right now is call Delancey."

"Oh, right. I'll run home right now and then-"

"Call her from here."

"She lives in California."

Paxton smiled. "Call her from here, and if she has questions, I'll be able to answer them."

"Oh. All right."

Mackenzie went to the phone, not realizing her hand was shaking until she started to push the buttons, made a mistake, and had to start over. She listened to it ring, hoping someone was home. It was wonderful to have her sister answer.

"Hello."

"Hi, Deej."

"Mic! I was just thinking about you. I went in and stole a sweatshirt from your closet."

"What sweatshirt did I leave?"

"That old Cal Poly one. Where did you get it?"

"I can't even remember. You're welcome to it."

"Thanks! So, what's up?"

"Well, I've done something that I'm not sure you'll be happy about. Just tell me you'll hear me out."

"Sure I will. Hey, you're not engaged, are you?"

"No, nothing like that. Just listen."

"All right."

Mackenzie took a deep breath. "I showed the Micah Bear book to an editor, and his company wants to publish it."

"What now?"

"The Micah Bear story that you illustrated for me for Christmas, I gave it to Paxton, and he took it to a children's editor. They want to publish it."

"Mackenzie, are you serious?"

Her voice was soft, almost hurt, and Mackenzie thudded to earth.

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"We don't have to, Deej; we don't. I just thought your artwork was so good, and I thought maybe someone would be impressed with that and want to put you on staff or something. Maybe not even now but when you finish school. But then they wanted the actual book, the words-everything." Mackenzie's voice ended on an apologetic note.

"Oh, Mackenzie! You're serious. Someone thinks it's that good?"

"Yes," Mackenzie laughed. "And that's not all. He wants a series. He wants four more books with Micah Bear."

"Who's 'he'?"

"Tom Magy with IronHorse."

"IronHorse wants this?"

"Yes."

"Mackenzie!'

Even Paxton could hear the screams, right up to the minute Delancey dropped the phone and ran off shouting for her mother and Jack. Mackenzie looked over at Paxton and shrugged. He only laughed.

"If you'd have called from home, I'd have missed all this."

Mackenzie smiled at him.

"Micki?" It was her mother's voice.

"Hi, Mom."

"So it's true?"

"Yes. I have a contract right here."

"I can't believe it."

"I'm not sure I can either."

"Here, talk to Jack. I can't think."

As it was, no one had questions Mackenzie couldn't answer. She didn't want to stay on too long and eventually got Delancey back on the line long enough to say she'd call later. After hanging up, she felt totally drained. Paxton had to leave, so he handed the contract to Mackenzie and gave her some last- minute instructions.

"This is all pretty straightforward. Read it, write down any questions you have, and we'll talk later today or tomorrow. When you make a change, do so in ink and initial it. Don't even bother having Delancey sign it until you've talked with Tom about the changes. Then when he signs it, make sure he's initialed the changes as well. Got it?"

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"Yes, thank you, Pax. I think I'll go home now and take a nap."

He laughed as he hugged her.

Just as she had left IronHorse a few hours earlier, Mackenzie now walked from Paxton's in a cloud. She drove back to the base, this time at a normal speed, and lay down on her bed. She didn't fall asleep right away. Her mind was a rush of emotions. But she must have dozed off, since she woke to the ringing of the telephone and her sister's voice.

"Were you
sleeping?'
Delancey was amazed.

"Yes, the whole thing's worn me out." She felt grumpy and had a headache. "Give me a minute to get my eyes open."

"Oh, Mic, I can't believe it," Delancey began, and for several minutes Mackenzie had no need to speak.

"Tell me how this all started, "she demanded at last.

Mackenzie recited the story for her, explaining why she had handled it the way she did. She wasn't in the mood to talk about this-she still felt half-asleep-but she wanted to fill Delancey in. By the end of the conversation, she felt better, and when her sister thanked her, tears in her voice, Mackenzie's own heart burgeoned with pleasure.

"How do you want to do this, Deej?" she had the foresight to ask. "Do you want to draw some pictures and let me put words to them or what?"

"I can't, Mic. I just don't think in terms of words. I never look at a picture and see a caption, but as soon as I see the words, my mind starts drawing pictures. Can you do the words first?"

"Sure. I'll call you as soon as I have some ideas, and then I'll write the story out and put it in the mail."

"Go fast, Mic. I don't know how much time I'll have in the fall, so I want to do this this summer."

"Any word from Chicago?"

"No, but I'm hoping they'll let me know soon."

The sisters talked for another ten minutes. Mackenzie, who had wanted to sleep so badly earlier, hung up the phone and only sat at her small kitchen table staring at nothing.

Why am I not more excited? My sister is over the moon, and I feel nothing.
Mackenzie decided she needed some fresh air and exercise. Determined to push all melancholy thoughts from her mind, she climbed into shorts and a T-shirt and went for a run.

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San Francisco

"D.J., is that you?" Marrell called from the kitchen when she heard the front door open and close.

"Yes," Delancey choked out.

"What's the matter?" Marrell asked as she came around the corner, but by the time she reached the living room, Delancey was already sitting on the sofa, her back to her mother. Marrell studied her still pose, put the towel she was holding on the table, and went to sit across from her daughter. Delancey had tears in her eyes, but she looked more angry than anything else.

"You and Kyle weren't gone very long." Marrell's voice was soft.

Delancey looked at her, raised her eyes in frustration, and shook her head.

"I take it he wasn't as excited about Chicago as you are."

Another shake of the head. "He wants to marry me, Mom. Can you believe that! All this time he's been pretending to be happy for me, and today he tells me he's been begging God not to let me be accepted."

More tears came now, but they were out of rage.

"I just turned 19, Mom. I don't want to get married! I'm doing what I've dreamed of: illustrating books with my sister and going to study in Chicago. Why does he have to ruin all of that?"

"What exactly did he say?"

"Oh, only that he's serious and he thought I was too, and that we could be married right away because he's graduated and has two interviews next week. Both look very promising, and I could still be at Mills and teach like I've talked about. I don't know! He had it all so planned, but he's never talked to me like this before."

Marrell hated to see her daughter upset, but not for one minute did she believe this was all Kyle's fault.

"So you never gave him any indication that this was a forever thing for you?"

"No!"

"You didn't tell him you loved him?"

"No, Mom, because I don't-not in that way."

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"And you've never let him kiss you?"

Delancey stared at her mother, and Marrell's brows rose.

"D.J.," she said very gently, "how physical is your relationship?"

"Hugging and kissing."

"No more?"

"No, honest, but I see what you're talking about. He always holds my hand and puts his arm around me, and when he kisses me goodnight, it can get rather intense." The fire had gone out of Delancey Bishop.

"I'm glad to know, sweetheart, that he didn't just want to use you and move on. He's ready to commit himself to you, but it's like we've always talked about: Things move faster for men. And Kyle is older than you are. It's not too hard to understand that he's ready to settle down and support the woman he loves."