by Nina Bruhns
“We can get right down to business if you’re tired.”
“No. I’m fine. Really.” Margot reigned in her thoughts. Now was not the time to be crushing on Antonio or thinking about anything other than the conversation at hand. “You were saying?”
Beth swallowed the bite of pasta, then politely wiped her mouth with her white napkin. “I’ve read one of your novels and two short stories and I think they’re incredible. I haven’t been this excited about an author in years. And to think you have ten books already written in the series is simply remarkable.”
“Wait, you think I wrote a series?” Margot had written her journals utilizing characters from the same small town without really giving much thought to creating an actual series. She wrote what she thought felt right which had nothing to do with crafting ‘connected’ books. That was something professional writers did, not something Margot James had planned.
“I’m assuming the rest of your full length manuscripts center around the same town of Bush Creek, am I right?”
“Yes, but I never planned . . .”
“Well, whether you planned it or not, you’ve got yourself a series. I’ve been in this business for over fifteen years, and I’ve gotten good at predicting a best seller when I see one. You, my dear, have ten of them. Why aren’t you more excited about this?”
Margot gulped down the rest of the wine then placed the empty glass on the table. Beth immediately filled it again. “Let’s order another bottle. We might be here for a while. I brought along your updated contract and I’m perfectly willing to go over every detail with you.”
“Sure,” Margot told her trying to remain focused. She knew perfectly well this was a once in a lifetime moment and she wanted to be fully engaged, despite the effects of the wine.
Unfortunately, Antonio had taken over her every thought and try as she may, shaking him free seemed impossible.
Margot knew the woman sitting across from her could take her from obscurity to fame. A heady thought at best. And she clearly wanted to get into the whole business part of writing, but Antonio should have been there with her, sitting next to her, holding her hand, helping her negotiate the deal.
She drank some water instead of the wine trying to keep a clear head, deciding to share the truth with Beth. “I’m very excited about all of this. Your offering me a contract is a writer’s dream. I should have invited Antonio to join us. Instead, he’s out with my best friend. They went to a play . . . Winston, I believe.”
“And you didn’t go? It’s impossible to get tickets, but then Antonio can get just about anything.”
“You sound as if you know him well.”
“I know that he’s a very wealthy man and wealthy men tend to get everything they want.” Beth leaned in across the table, getting closer to Margo. “Actually, it worked out better that he’s not here. Rumor has it there’s a war going on between Antonio and George Post. For my money, if you choose to sign with Market Street, I’d advise you to go with George as your editor. Antonio’s a great editor, don’t get me wrong. But Antonio can get distracted by his latest squeeze and it can take weeks to get him on the phone or to work on your book. Whereas George is more reliable, even when he’s wooing another woman. He treats his authors with the utmost professionalism and he’s well respected in the community. Or you could even go with Paulo Milani, Antonio’s younger brother. Still a charmer, but he treats his authors well.
“All that aside, you may not be going with Market Street at all. I already have two more offers on the table for your work. One is with Random House and the other is with Harper Collins. Both would be great choices for you, but it all depends on what you want for your future.”
Margot’s head was spinning and she’d barely touched the second glass of wine. The fact that three publishers wanted her journals was more than she ever dreamed possible. She had written those stories for herself, and because of Jackie’s interference, here she was talking to a literary agent who was promising her the world. All she had to do was decide what that world should look like.
“How do you see my future?” Margot asked.
“If the rest of your work is anything like what I’ve already read, I see you as a very rich woman.”
Margot sucked in a breath and eased it out through her nose, stalling for time, trying to understand exactly what Beth was saying. “Just how rich are we talking about?”
“Eight figures rich. Rich enough so you’ll need to hire a team of assistants and the best damn accountant you can find.”
Margot reached for her wine glass and drank down every last drop.
Life was moving way too fast for this small town girl and she wanted someone to hold onto. Too bad that someone was probably holding onto her very best friend.
* * *
Antonio had tried several times to talk to Jackie about all the rare books he’d found in Margot’s suitcase, but he couldn’t get her to focus on what he was saying. Jackie knew just about everyone in the restaurant and busied herself with catching up with the latest gossip. At one point, Gordon Ramsey himself came out to talk to her about their dinners, asking how they liked everything.
“Perfection!” Jackie told him as he smiled and graciously accepted her praise.
Antonio tried to tell him what he thought, but Jackie had usurped the entire conversation.
When they arrived at the theater, she recognized a few of the people in the seats around her and took up a conversation with a younger couple who seemed as if they were happy to share their night with Jackie, almost too happy. Antonio had the distinct feeling the girl would have liked to be anywhere but sitting in a theater, while her boyfriend or husband seemed thrilled that Jackie was there to take up the lack of conversation with his girl.
Antonio hadn’t been told by the investigator what a social butterfly Jackie was and now that they were in the limo again on their way back to her apartment, she’d offered a ride to the younger couple, Philip and Arlene, who never seemed to shut up, Antonio felt as though his night had been tossed into the spin cycle and he didn’t know where to locate the knob to slow it down.
His thoughts were consumed with Margot and what he’d found in her suitcase, and what, if anything, she must be feeling. Jim Sutton hadn’t returned his call about the discovery of the rare books, so he had no way of knowing what kind of organization, legal or otherwise, Margot and Jackie were involved in.
Antonio hated ambiguity. If anything he was a man who liked to be in control of any given situation, and at the moment, he was anything but in control.
Would he end up having both Margot and Jackie arrested for stealing millions of dollars’ worth of rare books?
He didn’t know how that was even remotely possible. He may as well rip out his heart if he had to do anything like that, and if Jim Sutton didn’t call him soon with some answers, he’d be thinking of ways he could simply bow out of everything, even if it cost him losing his copy of Oliver Twist. Money didn’t matter. A rare book didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered if he couldn’t have Margot.
For the first time in Antonio’s sordid life, he wanted to do the right thing, and the one girl who had helped him get to this point, might be a thief.
A turn of events he’d never expected.
He knew he had to be careful about how he approached Jackie. He didn’t want her to run, or worse, put his life in danger. He didn’t know what she was capable of, and according to her file, that could be just about anything. The woman was a loose cannon.
Everything might have worked out if Jackie hadn’t decided to show up early.
“I don’t want to go home, yet,” Jackie said. “Let’s find a good club and go dancing. I worked hard in Paris. I need the appropriate down time.”
And before Antonio could tell her he wanted no part of clubbing, Philip told the limo driver the name of the club and the driver immediately changed course. Within what seemed like seconds they were on their way to The Arts Club on Dover Street, one
of London’s trendiest private clubs. It seemed Philip was a member and Jackie couldn’t be more pleased.
Normally, Antonio would be ecstatic to be going to a private nightclub, especially in London, but until things were resolved, he didn’t want to go anywhere.
“I don’t mean to be a drag, but I’d like to go back to the apartment,” Antonio told Jackie during a short lull in the ongoing conversation.
She threw him a look as if he had rocks for brains. “You can’t be serious, luv. The night is just getting started, and there’s no telling who we might see there.”
Philip agreed, while Audrey seemed noncommittal.
“I’d like to be there when Margot gets home. Chances are, Beth Corina is filling her head with all sorts of possibilities, and I don’t want to lose Margot to another publishing house.”
“Is that the only reason?”
He leaned in closer so no one else could hear him. He looked directly into her eyes as they sat side by side in the back of the limo. Philip and Audrey sat facing them on the opposing bench seat. “I want to know why Margot’s suitcase is filled with rare books and why you pretended to be Margot, why you stole my book, and what the hell you two women are up to.”
She stared at him for a moment. A smile stretched across her face. “Now is not the time, luv.”
“I have a private investigator checking on you and Margot.”
“You won’t find anything.”
“Then prove to me I shouldn’t be looking.”
Jackie turned to Philip and Audrey. “Did you two know that Antonio is part owner of Market Street? It’s a publishing house.”
Philip looked interested while Audrey merely stared in Jackie’s direction. Antonio didn’t know what Jackie was up to exactly, but he knew he’d pressed the right button.
“His publishing house wants to buy my best friend’s manuscripts. But I know how publishers work, even sweethearts like Antonio. I’d advise my best friend to keep her digital rights and publish her books herself. It’s fine if she hands over the print rights to a house like yours, for the right price, of course, but those digital rights need to be retained. I just learned that in Paris. Don’t you think that’s interesting?”
They nodded in unison.
Jackie continued, saying, “It’s a new world for authors, and my Margot needs to become savvy in a hurry.”
“That’s not how my house works. We would never give up digital rights.”
“There’s always a first time for everything,” Audrey offered, as she crossed her arms under her negligible breasts. Not that Antonio didn’t think small breasts were sexy on the right woman . . . Audrey didn’t happen to be that woman. And now he wanted nothing more than to drop her off at the next corner for interfering.
“It’s non-negotiable.”
Jackie shrugged and took Antonio’s hand in hers. Antonio’s first instinct was to pull away, but he decided to play the game . . . for now. “Then, my delicious Antonio, I simply will not allow you to get Margot alone until I’ve spoken with her. You have no choice but to stay put. Besides, we’re almost there.”
“I’ll grab a cab.”
Jackie motioned to whisper in his ear. Antonio bent his head to be closer to her mouth so he could hear her over the music that vibrated through the limo. “Margot may as well be my sister. I would do anything to protect her short of killing someone. And I know she would do the same for me. That being said, don’t cross us, sweetheart.”
She let go of his hand, straightened out her coat, stretched her pink shiny lips into a smile and turned back to Philip and Audrey, who had lost interest in the conversation and were busy playing facetime with each other. Jackie interrupted their fun. “Now my pets, tell me who I should be scouting for at this club. I love making new friends.”
With those three sentences Jackie had not only told Antonio who he was dealing with, but had made him the enemy. And for that, he would do whatever was necessary to bring the ‘sisters’ to justice even if it meant tearing out his own heart.
Everything He Never Wanted: Chapter Ten
Margot couldn’t bring herself to return to Jackie’s apartment. She had drunk herself silly and didn’t trust what she might say to her best friend and to her lover if she caught them in bed together . . . which she had every reason to believe she would. Especially after what Antonio had said.
“I know I shouldn’t ask, and it’s none of my business, but I have a feeling there’s something going on with you and Antonio that isn’t panning out so well at the moment,” Beth said. “Call it women’s intuition or knowing Antonio. Whatever the reason, I have a hunch you could use a night to yourself. My mum’s place has three extra bedrooms that she always keeps ready for visitors. Mum loves to entertain and she would be delighted to . . . ”
“Yes,” Margot said before Beth could finish her invitation.
“Great! I have some appointments tomorrow at the book fair I can’t back out of, but they aren’t until eleven. I get up at eight and if you don’t mind me waking you around that time, we can shore up any concerns you might have with this contract before I have to leave.”
“That would be perfect,” Margot told her, thankful for the safe haven away from Jackie and Antonio. She couldn’t bear to see them together.
After Margot secured her new sleeping arrangement, she sent Jackie a text telling her she would be spending the night at Beth’s mom’s house to go over a few things.
Jackie didn’t reply.
The cab ride took less than ten minutes, and when Margot attempted to pay for it, Beth wouldn’t allow it. Beth had already paid for the dinner and all the wine, so Margot thought it was the least she could do, but there was no convincing Beth.
Her mom’s place was a three-story row house on one of those streets where the average car parked along the curb cost more than Margot earned in an entire year, maybe two. More if you converted the cost from pounds to dollars.
The interior of the row house had been furnished in comfortable elegance with a color scheme of deep gold, tan, chocolaty brown and a touch of black. Beth’s mom, Stella, dressed as elegantly as her home, and it appeared as though she’d painstakingly stressed over every little detail, including the theme of the embroidered pillows on the creamy golden sofa. Margot wondered if Stella had embroidered the pillows herself, like in classic movies where the women spent their time creating tapestries while the men hunted.
After the introductions, Stella, delighted in showing Margot to her room with the intricately carved, four poster bed draped in a flurry of colors drawn from the rest of the house. The opulent room not only contained a desk with a working laptop for her personal use, but a small round table and two chairs, along with two club chairs and a large flat-screen TV encased in a mahogany frame, hanging on the wall facing the bed.
Margot felt a little like a princess visiting royalty.
“There are several pairs of pajamas in the drawers if you need them, and the bath down the hall contains all the necessary amenities,” Stella said in a cheerful voice. “I’ll have breakfast waiting for you and Beth in the morning. Will organic eggs and muffins do?”
Margot nodded her reply. She’d never met a more welcoming person in her entire life and wanted nothing more than to move in with Stella for the next few days while Jackie and Antonio rekindled their relationship.
Margot picked out a lovely pair of soft blue pajamas, and found everything she needed in the bathroom, including basic makeup for the morning. There wasn’t a thing Stella hadn’t planned for, except perhaps for Margot’s breaking heart.
When she arrived back in her bedroom, Stella was there dropping off a tray filled with crackers, cheese, berries, herbal tea, honey and a lovely fruit scone.
“Beth mentioned that you hardly ate during dinner. I thought you might be needing a bit of nutrition.”
“Thanks so much,” Margot said and immediately plopped down on the bed to enjoy the goodies.
“I’m a pretty good listener,
sweetheart, if you want to talk,” Stella offered.
Margot wasn’t ready to completely pour out her heart, at least not yet. But she did have a feeling Stella might be able to help her. She seemed to be one of those wise women one met at a crucial juncture, so she decided to ask the question that had been bouncing around in her head for hours. “What do you do when you’re the other woman?”
“That’s a complicated situation. Are there children involved?” Stella took a seat in one of the club chairs, crossed her ankles then moved her legs to the side, like a true lady.
“No.”
“Is he married?”
“No.”
“Engaged?”
“No.
“Are you sure you’re the only ‘other woman’?”
Margot hadn’t thought about that aspect before. “What if you think you are?”
Stella’s face softened as she gave counsel. “You’ll need to decide on what you want out of the relationship, sweetheart, and whether it’s worth the price of admission.”
“That makes it sound as if I have some control.”
“The one thing I’ve learned in my life is that in any given situation, the person who believes they’re in control . . . takes control.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s me.”
“That’s because you’re giving up too quickly, dear. Decide what you want and go get it.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
She shrugged. “Most things are. Now do try to get some rest.” She stood and made her way to the door.
“Thank you,” Margot said as she poured wonderfully fragrant hot tea into a china cup, spread the raspberry jam on the scone and prepared for what surely would be a long night.
* * *
The call came through a couple minutes before midnight, just as Antonio was unlatching the door to Jackie’s apartment. He’d left Jackie and company at The Arts Club, schmoozing with Madonna, and George Clooney. They were enough of a distraction for Jackie that his disappearance wouldn’t be noticed. Not that he cared.
