“In addition,” Nigel said, “they will pay you a fee for your time.” When he told her the amount, her eyes grew even wider.
The terms they were offering were … extremely generous. Well beyond anything she’d expected.
Surely, she thought, her mind racing, they had better options? “Shouldn’t you hire a media handler for this?”
“We normally would, yes, but for this particular effort, local knowledge is essential. Also, to be frank, the timing and location are factors. My team in New York are already completely booked. I’ve been told you’ve met previously with the publisher’s team.”
“Well, yes, several of their people, at industry events.”
“They speak highly of you and are confident you possess all of the necessary attributes. Based on this conversation, I’m very much inclined to agree.”
“Mr. Farraday,” she said, stalling for time. “I … I don’t know what to say.”
“Please, Ms. Quinn, call me Nigel.”
“Nigel,” she said. “Your offer is not what I was expecting.”
“It’s a wonderful opportunity, Ms. Quinn, for you and The Tattered Page.”
He was right about that. The discount and the fee were substantial. Things she’d been putting off could be addressed sooner.
A jolt went through her. Things likethe roof.
She could fix the roof!
“Is this what ‘crisis management’ is about, Nigel?” she asked, trying to buy more time. “Throwing money at a problem to make it go away?”
He chuckled. “Only when our aim is true, Ms. Quinn.”
“Please,” she said, her mind still awhirl, “call me Penny.”
“Penny,” he replied, “you’ll recall I said the publisher is motivated.”
“Yes.”
He lowered his voice and she could almost see him leaning closer. “You didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve been told the publisher istwiceas motivated as I indicated previously.”
It took her a second to realize what he was saying. She blinked, unsure what to think. Why, if he wastheirrepresentative, was he telling her what he was apparently telling her?
“Nigel,” she began.
“Yes, Penny?”
Her heart started pounding. She wasn’t actually considering doing this, was she? She had so much going on already. The last thing she needed, especially in the midst of the holiday craziness, was yet another responsibility.
But the roof, she thought, her mind envisioning water dripping endlessly and buckets of water sloshing messily as she carried them, day after day after day, down the winding metal stairs.
A tremble went through her. Was she really doing this? Did she really want to do what she was apparently about to do?
“If you double the fee,” she said, her decision revealing itself as the words left her mouth, “and if the discount goes for two years instead of one, then you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Nigel barked out a pleased laugh. “Excellent, Penny, excellent! I’m so pleased we’ll be working together.”
CHAPTER 5
That evening, after a long and tiring day at the bookstore that came to an end only after she turned off the lights and locked the front door behind her, Penny set out for home. The street outside the bookstore was quiet, the night cold and still. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the hint of snow in the air. After a day immersed in the bookshop’s nonstop hustle and bustle, being outside feltnice.
She crossed the street and headed through the town square down the path winding past the square’s brightly lit gazebo. Earlier that evening, Christmas carolers had gathered at the gazebo for their nightly serenade, and somehow their festive energy seemed to linger, perhaps within the seemingly endless array of snow-people and snow-animals lining the path, greeting Penny at every turn.
