NicenEasy

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NicenEasy Page 9

by Lynne Connolly


  If she didn’t get a break soon, she’d have to give up her comfortable apartment in the ’burbs and move in to something cheaper, maybe share a place like many of her colleagues. She’d always known that would happen. She also knew she’d have to tough out any problems she encountered, like Carl’s drunken attack last night. Nobody would offer her sympathy.

  Yeah, she could do that. She wouldn’t be a junior forever.

  Her boss fixed her with an eagle-eyed stare. “You’re seeing Carl?”

  “He doesn’t want to go to the ball, so we won’t stay long. He wants to go to dinner afterward. We can talk over his third book.”

  Nancy snorted in derision. “Yeah, right. Be sure you’re back here later.”

  “I thought that didn’t matter?”

  “It didn’t when I thought you were about to snag Donovan Harvey. If you’re with him, it still doesn’t matter. But Carl is with us already, locked in for at least three books. You should be recruiting new authors as well as keeping your current ones happy.” She shrugged. “But if that’s what it takes, then do it.”

  Allie looked up from the bed where she’d spread out after her shower. For once, she felt comfortable, dressed in a loose robe and her underwear. She’d even tried for some peace of mind before Nancy had come in. Now Nancy’s perkiness irritated her. What did she have to be perky about?

  “I have tried.”

  “You spent all your time mooning over Donovan Harvey. If you can’t get him by the time you go home, then you’re done.”

  Allie lifted her head from the pillow. “What do you mean, I’m done?”

  “You didn’t play it too well, did you? You spent the night with Carl, who’s a married man and an existing client, and then spent the rest of your time mooning over Harvey.” Nancy didn’t bother to hide her scorn. “This was your big chance, Allie, and you’re blowing it. After your meal, see Carl to his room, tuck him in and find Harvey. Or go to the bar and troll for talent.”

  Allie caught her breath. Nancy hadn’t done that by accident, made her sound like a whore. She knew the publishing industry didn’t operate like this everywhere, but she also knew that Nancy had more clout with her employers than she did. Nancy had shown her true colors. Everything she did was about Nancy.

  If Allie went above Nancy’s head, she’d find a way to stick it to her, and Allie had to ensure she’d set up adequate defenses. Allie was the newcomer and she had to prove Nancy’s behavior first. Right now she’d be easy to discard, to push out of the way—with one important author, one she had to work hard to keep sweet, the publishing house would hardly miss her. She was in deep shit here, and she had to work carefully.

  The thought sent her carefully orchestrated calm into the stratosphere, never to be seen again. She owed it to herself and to the company she worked for to at least try.

  Tense again, she sat up and decided she might as well get ready for her dinner with Carl.

  Left to her own devices, Allie would have spent more time at the ball, enjoying the costumes and the exuberance of the convention goers, but Carl wanted to stick to his plan and they were in the hotel restaurant by eight. The food was pretty good and the company amusing. Some people didn’t seem to have taken off their costumes from the night before, or they had duplicates in their luggage. She recognized a dragon who’d lost part of his tail, not that it had slowed him down any.

  The restaurant was part of an open area and from the table they chose, they could see the bar. It made for a relaxed atmosphere. But she brought her notebook.

  The first hour went well. They chatted, then ate, then discussed the third book. She loved Carl’s ideas for the development of one of the main characters and told him so. He basked and admitted his wife had helped him with the romance part.

  Just as she went into more discussion about the romance, Carl broke into her speech. “I talked to my wife about other things, you know.”

  “Did you?” He seemed eager to tell her, so she’d let him before leading him back into the book.

  “We have an open marriage.”

  Shit. “Do you now?” Should she invent an imaginary boyfriend? No, that bird had flown. Her behavior with Donovan either suggested an open relationship with someone at home or none at all. “Does that help with your writing?”

  “Sometimes.”

  How many glasses of wine had he drunk? Three, she thought, because she was halfway through her second and there was a little left in the bottle. Shit, he didn’t have a good head for drink at all. She’d thought a bottle of wine with dinner would be safe, but already she could see his eyes were wider, darker, and he was waving his hands around more, his voice getting louder.

  Not a repeat of last night though. She’d take him upstairs, fend off the octopus hands and shove him into his room. Soon.

  Her attention drifted as soon as she’d emptied the wine bottle into her own glass. Not that she’d drink it, but she didn’t want Carl having any more. A movement of vivid green caught her eye and she glanced over Carl’s shoulder toward the bar.

  Nancy, in a skintight green top and that black pencil skirt, laughing at something that Donovan had just said. They were at a table, much smaller than the one she occupied with Carl, and they sat close together on one side of it. Far too close for Allie’s liking.

  She felt betrayed. How could he? She knew how Nancy could. She was trying to get Donovan on her side and then sign him. Going in for the kill. Allie hoped Donovan had more sense, but she didn’t really know him. It had felt as though she did when they were in his suite and he’d seemed sincere. But she’d told him they had no future so what right did she have to tell him how to behave?

  The right of a concerned friend, that was what.

  She closed her notebook with a decided snap and Carl’s eyes widened. “You’re on edge.”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” she said. “Nothing wrong at all. It’s just I’m really tired and I have an early flight in the morning. I need to check on something with Nancy, then I’m off to bed.”

  That brought him to his feet. She shouldn’t have mentioned the “B” word at all. “I’m with you. Let’s go.”

  At least it got him moving. She signed the bill, then they set off for the elevators. Allie let Carl put his arm around her waist but when he would have pulled her in to his side, she walked a little faster and avoided getting any closer.

  One side of the elevator was glass so she stared resolutely out of it until it stopped at her floor. “Night, Carl.” When he would have kissed her mouth, she managed to make him miss and his kiss landed on her cheek. He couldn’t have been as drunk as the night before because he accepted it and contented himself with a pat on her ass.

  Allie waited until she was sure Carl had gone and wasn’t coming back down, then took the elevator back to the bar.

  They were still there, still sitting close, smiling in an intimate way. She should stop him, because Nancy would take photos or some other sleazy thing. She knew her boss much better now. At least this weekend gave her the extra knowledge. How come she’d never noticed before? Too busy settling into a new, exciting job, learning her way around and talking with some of the household names who walked through the doors.

  She glanced at the two men who sat none too discreetly at a table nearby. They’d changed out of their MIB getup into more casual clothes. One of them glanced at her badge and nodded, smiling. She didn’t smile back.

  “Hi.” She stopped by the table. Nancy glared, Donovan smiled. Allie hoped nobody noticed her fingers were trembling. She resisted clenching them into fists and pressed them against her thighs to steady them instead.

  “Hi. Want a drink?” Donovan got to his feet.

  “I’m okay, thanks.”

  Then Donovan bent and kissed her. Not on her cheek either. Allie stood still, frozen with shock. Surely he knew most of the people and aliens and fantasy creatures in the bar had cameras as part of their uniforms? He’d only given her a swift kiss on her mouth, but the intima
cy existed now and everyone had seen it.

  Nancy flipped back her hair and glared at Allie. Was it possible Nancy wanted Donovan for other than professional considerations? Highly probable. Allie considered him one of the sexiest men alive, but then, she had a more intimate basis for thinking that.

  Donovan took Allie’s hand and led her to a spare chair before he sat back down, this time at a slight distance from Nancy. Allie felt like saying he needn’t bother for her benefit but she curbed the acid in her tongue. “Carl’s gone to bed. He has an early flight.”

  “I don’t know what kind of welcome he’ll find,” Nancy said, “if his wife discovers what he’s been up to. Of course, she must have seen the pictures from last night.”

  Allie was almost past caring but that would be dangerous. That would be the time Nancy could stab her in the back. “She probably knows her husband doesn’t have a strong head for drink.”

  Nancy glanced at Donovan then back at Allie. “I have to apologize for my employee’s behavior,” she said to Donovan. “We don’t usually approve of editors spending the night with their authors, much less two of them.”

  Allie gasped. She hadn’t expected a full-frontal attack. Before she could regain her senses to respond, Donovan joined the fray. “No apology necessary. Besides, Allie didn’t spend the night with Carl Morano, merely saw him to his room after he misbehaved in the bar. You don’t expect your people to stand for what she did last night, do you?”

  Nancy shook her head, her eyes filled with confusion. “She said—”

  “I doubt she told you she spent the night with Morano. You might have inferred it.” Allie felt passing approval when she realized Donovan had used a tricky word properly. And so properly he’d set Nancy back.

  “That is a shame,” Nancy said, “because I emailed Mrs. Morano earlier, apologizing for Allie’s actions and putting the blame on her.” She shrugged. “I was trying for damage control. Carl is a great author and a great person.” So she’d already thrown Allie to the wolves.

  “With no head for alcohol,” Allie put in. “His wife would know it too.”

  Nancy shot her a bland stare, her carefully made-up eyes unblinking. By now, Allie knew that meant trouble. Nancy confirmed her suspicion by getting out her cell. “I should follow up on that and explain what you’ve just said. However, I’m sorry, Allie, but I doubt Carl will want you as his editor anymore. We have to think about the welfare of our authors.”

  “Rather than the editors,” Donovan said, tight-lipped. Allie had seen his anger before; Nancy hadn’t, so she might not have recognized the signs. Easygoing Donovan Harvey didn’t get angry, did he? Well, yes, he did, as Allie already knew.

  Nancy gave him an understanding smile. “I’m afraid so.” She got out her phone and glanced at the screen. “Mrs. Morano will probably call. We met last year when Carl first signed for us—didn’t I tell you, Allie? Oh dear, I meant to.” Right on cue, the phone trilled. It didn’t take much deduction to realize that Nancy had probably requested a callback at this time, when she could expect to be in public. Right now she had just the audience she wanted. “Hi. Can you hold on just one moment? I can’t hear you very well. Let me find somewhere quieter.” She raised a brow. “You want to listen?” She stood and glanced around. The restaurant on the other side of the huge reception area was closed, its tables deserted. She led the way across to one of them and sat. Donovan and Allie sat opposite.

  Donovan didn’t reveal by the twitch of an eyebrow how he was feeling, but Allie could feel his coiled-up tension.

  Nancy reached into her purse and drew out the little black portable speaker. After plugging it into the phone, she pressed the speaker button. Typical. Allie would expect no less from her. No chance of missing any of this conversation.

  “Mrs. Morano, so nice to hear from you. How are you?”

  “Fine.” The woman at the other end of the line sounded clipped, even irritated. “Why was it so important you wanted me to call now?”

  Nancy didn’t look up. “I knew we’d have finished most of the events of the day and I wanted to take the first opportunity to catch up with you.”

  A sigh, quiet but unmistakable, came out of the speaker. “This is about the pictures, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid so. It doesn’t seem to have affected his popularity at the signing.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing, at least. Don’t you remember me telling you Carl has a weak head for drink and to keep him off the hard stuff? When he’s away he tends to head for the nearest bar and drink the strongest cocktail he can find.”

  Carl’s wife had told Nancy about Carl’s weak head for alcohol? Sadly, although the news came as a shock, it no longer came as a surprise to Allie that her boss had kept that nugget of vital information to herself.

  “I don’t remember, Mrs. Morano, and I’m sorry about that. We did our best to take care of him, but his editor is new to the company and she slipped up. If you wish it, she’ll apologize to you personally.”

  “I don’t really care, unless it affected Carl’s signing, and from what you’ve just said, he’s fine. However, it doesn’t look good. I think you have to change editors, just because of that.” Mrs. Morano sounded hard to Allie. No wonder he looked for comfort outside home. “Are the reports also true, that he and she—”

  “I’m so sorry—”

  Mrs. Morano didn’t allow Nancy to finish. “Squash the rumors, please. Deny them all and get Allison Bartz to deny them too. Whatever it takes.” Allie doubted Mrs. Morano realized she was on enhanced speakerphone. “But on a personal note, I don’t care. So don’t worry about having her contact me. ”

  “I understand.” Nancy sounded grave, although her eyes gleamed with triumph. Now she had Allie. With no big name on her team, that made Allie expendable and back under Nancy’s thumb. Allie’s heart sank. She had to tough it out and in one thing, Nancy was right—she should have spent more time schmoozing the big names. Except she had a strong suspicion that the big names had seen it, heard it, got the T-shirt. They’d have seen right through her. But maybe a bit more socializing instead of— She broke off her thoughts right there.

  Donovan glanced at her, seemingly without expression, but she saw the desire banked down in his eyes. It made her heat up when she was trying so hard to be cool. How did he have the power to do that?

  Without warning, he spoke up. “Mrs. Morano, this is Donovan Harvey.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m an author at the convention.” He smiled, not at all put out that she hadn’t recognized him. “I can personally vouch that Allie didn’t spend any nights with your husband. She was with me.”

  “But—” Nancy sputtered for a bare second before she regained her composure. “I had no idea.” But now she did, and so did anyone else within earshot.

  Donovan gave her a not-nice smile. “You weren’t supposed to.” He glanced at Allie. “Nice talking to you, Mrs. Morano.”

  “Nice talking to you too. Hey, are you British? Wait, Donovan Harvey—don’t I know you?”

  “Possibly. I write under another name though.” He didn’t elaborate.

  Nancy thanked Mrs. Morano and cut the call before turning to Allie. No pleasant face now, nothing but hard calculation. “So you let me think you fucked Carl Morano?”

  One good thing. Carl couldn’t blackmail her into sleeping with him.

  “Or he fucked her.” Donovan didn’t hide his reaction to Nancy now. He gave her a face as hard as the one she was showing to Allie. “Why not, when Carl was her only card in the game?”

  Nancy’s heavily lipsticked mouth dropped open before she closed it with a snap. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’re playing a game, aren’t you, so why is the card analogy such a surprise? Or maybe you don’t play with the plain truth? Then hear this.” He leaned forward, facing political maneuvering with something stronger—honesty. “Using people as if they’re playing cards is plain wrong, and one day it’ll come back to bite you i
n the butt.”

  “And you know all about the publishing industry, do you?”

  “I know a lot about the music business. I choose not to play games and I’m in a position to do so.” He leaned back. “Didn’t I hear that Casterbridge was having financial problems?”

  “No.” Nancy’s answer came too fast. “Absolutely not. In fact, we’re willing to add a comfortable amount to whatever you’re getting from Edsel. Does that sound like we’re in financial trouble?”

  He shrugged. “Frankly, yes. But you must know that if you sign me, I want Allie.”

  Nancy sighed. “Yes. If that’s the price, she’s yours.”

  Allie had heard enough. “Hey, that’s my life and my career you’re talking about. Don’t I get a say?”

  Immediately, Donovan gave her all his attention, turning a pearl-gray stare on her, so intent she almost winced. “You get all the say. I want you to stay here with me, at least until after the concerts. That’s two weeks. Next weekend in San Francisco and the weekend after in L.A. You know I want that.” He swung around to face Nancy again. “If she wants to come, I want you to listen. And nothing bad will happen to her job while she’s away.”

  “She can’t continue as Carl Morano’s editor.” For once, Nancy seemed sincere, but by now Allie knew better than to trust her.

  “What do you mean, can’t continue?” Donovan demanded.

  Nancy gave a long-suffering sigh. “The media has the pictures. They’re all over the place. Now people are coming to the sites just to make fun of us. He needs someone more senior to take care of the mess.”

  “Trolls,” Donovan said. “Ignore them.”

  Nancy frowned. “We can’t allow that.”

 

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