Virgin's Lust

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Virgin's Lust Page 17

by Kayla C. Oliver


  “Thank you for having me.” He paused a beat, then threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing toward the door. “Was that Courtney Hughes at the desk there?”

  I blinked. He’s asking about my secretary? “Uh, yes, it is. She’s been with us a long time, and if you’re thinking of stealing her for yourself, I’m afraid I’ll have to fight you for her.”

  He laughed, loud and hearty. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind. She seems very capable.”

  I gave a single nod. “She is. And I’m serious about not letting her go.”

  He held up his hands defensively, smiling. “I’ll have to assume she’s not part of the negotiations, then.”

  “No, sir, not today.” I was a little surprised that he was talking about Courtney, but I didn’t push it. I wouldn’t let him derail me. “But I do have an offer ready for you, if you’d like to look it over.”

  I slid the stack of papers across the table toward him.

  “Eager, aren’t you?” he commented as he accepted the contract I’d spent the whole night working on.

  I smiled blandly at him. “We like to make sure that we have some options on the table when we meet with first-time clients.”

  “Potential client,” he corrected, skimming through the contract.

  I clenched my teeth beneath my smile, my jaw twitching. I needed to sign him, but I couldn’t let him see how badly. He was the kind of man who knew when he had the leverage, and I wasn’t going to be the idiot to tell him he could ask for just about anything and I’d give it to him. “Of course,” I said simply.

  It took him a moment to look over the contract, but finally he put it down and looked across the desk at me. “This is a decent offer,” he told me.

  My smile turned a little more genuine. “Of course. You’re not a first-time author, and there’s a high probability that your novel will sell very well here.”

  “It will sell very well. No matter where I go.”

  I kept my smile in place, though it felt brittle, and tried not to let him faze me. “However, our resources can get your work out to a lot more readers than the average Joe—even if your book will sell regardless.”

  I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs at the knees in an effort to appear cool and confident.

  He silently considered me for a moment, then said, “I want full e-book rights. And I want input on the cover. The last place walked all over that cover, and all of a sudden there’s a dude with a gun like that’s all that matters.” He rolled his eyes in irritation. “And I retain the right to say no to any and all edits I disagree with.”

  Is he out of his fucking mind? I can’t give him that!

  But my expression didn’t change. I remained cool and calm, unflappable. This was about negotiating. It was only a preliminary meeting, and I wasn’t going to let his demands ruffle my feathers—no matter how much I needed this contract.

  “S&W retains e-book publishing rights for five years, you can choose whatever cover you want, and we can negotiate on hard and soft edits,” I countered, keeping my voice firm but light. It was important not to go too hard with people, especially men, because they got offended when a woman was a shark. But if you were too soft, too sweet with them, they thought you couldn’t play hardball. It was a delicate balance, but I’d mastered it over the years.

  Parker considered me from across the desk. He didn’t seem offended by my counteroffer, but he didn’t seem sold on it either. “One year e-book publishing rights, complete cover autonomy, and no drastic edits to the main premise or plot.”

  Now we’re getting somewhere.

  “How about you retain one year of free publishing e-book rights, then they revert back to us for the next five years? You can still have your cover—we’ll even offer an additional e-book cover to use for your independent publishing with only a minimal copyright agreement—and I agree to no drastic edits unless there is a significant plot hole, or something nefarious that goes against our publishing code. However, you agree to allow for basic changes, sentence edits—for the sake of clarity—and trust that I know grammar better than you do.”

  He lifted an eyebrow at that last one, but I saw him grin slightly. “Do you?”

  I nodded once. “I assure you, I do.”

  He shrugged. “All right, I’ll take your word for that last one. I want exclusive movie and TV series rights,” he continued, jumping back into the negotiation.

  I thought it over. Although that was a big one with the potential to make a lot of money, most authors weren’t interested in giving up those particular rights. It was where they stood to make the most money. Although S&W would love to get their hands on the movie rights for one of Parker’s books—the money to be made on that was a guaranteed gold mine—I hadn’t expected to even have them on the table. The e-book rights were the biggest thing. The market was shifting more toward the digital medium than the paperback, and it was cheaper to produce for us as well.

  But I wasn’t going to just give Parker anything. I wanted him to work for it so he appreciated it more—and so he’d be more pliable when I threw another option at him.

  “How about we retain the rights for making a movie for the first two years and—”

  “No deal,” he said instantly, shaking his head. “I keep the movie rights or I walk right now.”

  I sighed internally but didn’t show my annoyance at being cut off. “All right. But only if you agree to not sell the rights to a producer for the first two years. After that, we’ll look at sales again and work with you to determine the best time for a movie production.”

  He considered that. “One year.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do; talk it over with my boss.”

  He nodded, agreeing to the discussion and nothing more. I was about to bring the discussion back around to the e-book rights, but before I got the chance, his phone went off. He held up a single finger at me, indicating for me to wait, and then pulled out his phone. He checked the screen, then sighed.

  “Sorry, I’m going to have to cut our meeting short,” he apologized. “This is important.”

  I frowned just a little, the only indication that I wasn’t entirely happy with how things were going, but I recovered quickly. Standing, I reached across the table to shake his hand again. He grasped my hand firmly.

  “Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Parker. Please, stop by my secretary’s desk so that you can schedule another meeting at your convenience.”

  He smiled at me and nodded. “Will do. Thank you for your time, Ms. McKenna.”

  As he turned and left, I stood there thinking, I really fucked this up, didn’t I?

  Trent

  I knew before I got the call from Callum that I wasn’t going to sign with S&W Publishing. Although the Marnie woman seemed like she had her shit together, I understood that S&W was the last place I wanted to be. Even if they met my every demand and paid me one hell of an advance, I wasn’t going to give in. It was a principle thing more than anything else.

  So when Marnie told me to stop by her secretary’s desk and make an appointment for later, I was thinking about how I was absolutely not going to do that.

  Then I walked past her desk and saw her sitting there.

  Courtney Hughes.

  I’d pictured a modelesque woman with fake tits and perfectly done makeup. What I got was a classy woman who probably didn’t come up to my damn elbows with deliberately 1940s curled hair and bright red, matte lipstick.

  She wasn’t what I’d imagined, but she was twice as fucking sexy.

  Beneath that pretty, perfectly modest dress she wore, I could see she had the curves of a goddess, and she had that soft tan that suggested she spent just a few minutes every day getting some sun.

  Fucking sexy.

  I smiled broadly as I approached her, propping my hip up on the edge of her desk. “Hey, there.”

  She didn’t look up from her computer. “Can I help you, sir?”

  “Please, call me Trent.” Or Malc
om, I thought but definitely did not say.

  That got her attention. She raised an eyebrow at me, slowly turning so that she was facing me with a blank, unimpressed expression. “Can I help you, sir?” she repeated deliberately.

  I swallowed. Ooh, feisty. I like it. “I’m Trent Parker.”

  “I know who you are, sir. I directed you to Ms. McKenna’s office, remember?”

  I laughed lightly. “Yeah, good point. I just thought I could introduce myself officially.”

  “Of course, sir. Good to meet you.”

  She went back to typing on her computer.

  I hadn’t been intending to set up another meeting. Seriously. I was just going to flirt a little bit, get her number, then pop out the door without another fucking to-do with the damn publisher. But now she wasn’t flirting back, like she was fucking immune to my charms, and I was wondering what the hell I’d done to offend her so.

  “I…” I trailed off, no idea what to say to get this woman to open up to me. Damn, usually they just fall open—usually at the legs. “I was told to stop by and make a second appointment with you. Can you do that for me?”

  She pursed those ruby-red lips together but sighed after a moment. “Of course, sir. What’s a good time for you?”

  I smiled. “For you? Anytime is a good time.”

  She raised an eyebrow at me, unimpressed. “I have a slot available next week in the morning. Ten o’clock.”

  “Does that include coffee with you?”

  “No,” she said flatly.

  I almost laughed at how completely uninterested she was in me. I briefly considered telling her that I was the Malcom she spoke with over the phone and that she owed me a damn favor, but I quickly dismissed it. I wanted to save that little favor for later when it might do me more good.

  I just need a little more time with her, get her to warm up to me,I thought.

  “All right. Next week. Ten o’clock.”

  “That’s Thursday. Don’t be late,” she told me, then typed something into her computer. Next she grabbed a card from the drawer in her desk—I saw pink sticky notes, gel pens, and something that looked like a pineapple bobblehead.

  She quickly used one of her gel pens to scribble a quick note on the card, and then she handed it to me. I accepted it from her and used the opportunity to grab hold of her hand. Before she had the chance to jerk it free of my grip, I pressed my lips to her soft knuckles, kissing her hand softly.

  She froze, caught off guard by that. “Uh…”

  I grinned, releasing her hand. “It’s been my pleasure, Ms. Hughes.”

  I walked away then, taking pleasure in the fact that I’d thrown her off like that. I decided that was how I would win her over. All I had to do was keep her on her toes.

  This is going to be fun.

  Chapter Six

  Callum

  I’d pulled out all the stops and used the limo to ambush Trent outside of S&W Publishing, their main Seattle office towering into the sky like some iron-and-glass monstrosity. They were new, they were modern, and they were greedy.

  It pissed me the fuck off.

  Impatiently, I waited in the back of the limo, tapping my shoes on the floor of the car, and peeked out the tinted windows every five goddamned seconds as I waited for that asshole.

  I checked my wristwatch for the second time in two minutes and glanced at my phone again to see if he’d called or sent another message. Of course he hadn’t. The last one still said he was leaving a meeting and would meet me downstairs in a minute.

  “Goddamnit, you asshole,” I muttered angrily to myself.

  Finally, when I glanced up again, I saw him strolling out of S&W like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Well, I’m about to give him a fucking care, I thought angrily.

  I popped open the door and called to him, “Get in already.” Then I scooted over across the seat to make room. After a moment, Trent slid in next to me. He was dressed in one of his nicer suits, complete with the purple tie he used to impress, and the whole thing pissed me off even more.

  “Aren’t you all dolled up,” I grouched.

  He grinned at me. “You like it? I’ll start wearing it more often for you, sweetheart.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, then cut through the bullshit. “What the fuck are you doing at S&W Publishing?”

  His grin slid off his face like melted butter. He leaned back in the seat, putting his left arm along the back of the seat. Then he shrugged. “I told you, I was in a meeting. Which you rudely interrupted.”

  “Should’ve turned off your phone, then,” I snapped angrily at him. “What the fuck?”

  “What is your problem?”

  “My problem is that you just went to another publishing house to discuss publishing your new book with them!” I couldn’t help how angry I was, even if I wanted to. Because it wasn’t just that he’d gone somewhere else to publish—he’d been doing that from the beginning, and we both agreed that it wasn’t a big deal. He wanted to break out on his own. I didn’t want to have to mix business with pleasure, or displeasure depending on how the friendship was swinging that week.

  Trent looked over at me, his features serious. He was cool as a cucumber, which told me that he wasn’t kidding around. “Our relationship is purely platonic—and there’s no damn business involved. It’s always been that way, and that’s why it’s worked out.”

  He paused for a long moment, possibly waiting for me to get mad enough for my fucking head to explode. Then he grinned, just a little, and said, “Besides, it’s important to keep my options open.”

  That cheeky, fucking bastard, I thought.

  Gritting my teeth, I tried hard to keep calm as I shot back, “Fine. Options, great, what the fuck ever. But did it have to be with S&W Publishing? The only company out there that’s owned by my ex-college piece-of-shit roommate? Seriously?”

  Trent grimaced at that, for the first time since sliding into the limo with me looking slightly apologetic. “Yeah, sorry about that. But I got this call—”

  I interrupted him. “I don’t care about any fucking call! Jesus, Trent! You could have gone anywhere. I’ll give you a list of ten different publishing houses right now that would treat you right. But you cannot choose S&W Publishing over Tarvish. Do you know what that’ll do to my reputation? ‘Best friend of Tarvish owner goes to rival company, S&W. Is Tarvish tanking?’”

  Trent rolled his eyes at me. “You’re so dramatic. Tarvish is not going to tank just because I didn’t sign with you.”

  “No. It’ll tank because I can’t even make a good enough deal to get my best friend to sign with me.”

  I let those words sink in, desperately wanting him to understand that I didn’t care if he didn’t sign with me—so long as he didn’t sign with them.

  Finally, Trent sighed. “Look, you know the deal,” he began, turning in his seat slightly to better face me. “This is a friendship, not a business relationship. What I’m working on with S&W is business.” He paused there, making a face like maybe he wasn’t sure that was a hundred percent true, and suddenly I was wondering if there was something else going on that he wasn’t telling me. But he continued before I could press it. “These are two different things. You want this to be business? You’d better do it right.”

  I stared at him like he’d just grown a second head. I wanted to tell him he was such an ass for making this into a formal thing, especially when I didn’t even give a damn about fucking signing him! I just didn’t want him to sign with S&W.

  But he’d made himself pretty damn clear on the whole thing. If I wanted to get Trent away from S&W, then I was going to have to pitch him a deal—and it had better be a doozy.

  Groaning, I slumped back in my seat. “Fine, you asshole.”

  He grinned at me, enjoying his small victory.

  “We’ll do brunch. Next Thursday.”

  “Perfect,” he agreed and I had the limo drive him home. I spent the entire time wanting to smack that
canary-eating grin right off his smug face.

  Bastard.

  Chapter Seven

  Marnie

  A week after my initial meeting with Trent Parker, I found myself sitting in my office trying to balance a pencil on my nose. I was supposed to be in a meeting with the aforementioned Mr. Parker, but instead all I was doing was leaving graphite stains on my nose.

  He was almost an hour late, and with a sigh, I had to finally accept that I’d been stood up.

  Funny, getting stood up doesn’t feel any better in a business scenario than it does in a relationship one.

  After one last failed attempt at balancing my pencil on my nose, I tossed it aside and stood. Maybe I’d gotten the time or the date wrong. Maybe there had been a message for me about him being late or canceling or rescheduling. Maybe there was one goddamned mothereffing reason for why he was not here right this damn second.

  Shoving the door open, I found Courtney at her desk. She was typing away rapidly at her keyboard, not even so much as glancing up at me. That was how she was. Focused, hard-working, she often ignored you if she deemed you unworthy of her attention in that exact moment.

  “What. The. Ever-loving. Hell?” I demanded, coming to stand right in front of her desk, my hands on my full hips.

  “What the hell what?” she repeated back to me, still not glancing up from her keyboard. She was one hell of a typist.

  “Where is he? I mean, he made a damn appointment, right?”

  Some part of me knew that I was being a royal bitch to Courtney and she likely didn’t deserve it, but I couldn’t help it. This was the biggest deal of my life and if I didn’t make it stick, then I could wave that pretty little promotion goodbye. And when you waved one promotion goodbye, it was like a death sentence. Suddenly, people like Gary down the hall were getting your new clients. And Gary was being told what a go-getter he was. And Gary was getting that fucking beautiful corner office that had my goddamned mothereffing name on it!

 

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