“You’re late!”
“My office isn’t just around the corner, like yours. I got stuck in traffic.”
“Really?” his editor said skeptically. “What was this something urgent you mentioned on the phone? Do you have a problem?”
“Is this the latest thing, everyone thinking I have problems? Are you going to start in on this too?”
“What did you want to tell me?”
“I’ve decided I am going to the book fair in Seoul.”
“Fantasmic news! Not that you really had a choice.”
“There’s always a choice. And I may still change my mind. Speaking of which, I have something personal to ask. If I decided to spend a year or two in Seoul, would you be able to provide me with a small advance? Just enough to get me on my feet over there. I can’t ditch my apartment in Paris until I’m sure.”
“Sure about what?”
“Sure I want to stay there.”
“Why would you go and live in Korea? You don’t even speak the language.”
“Good point. I hadn’t thought about that. I guess I’ll have to learn it.”
“You? You’re going to learn Korean?”
“Nan niga naie palkarakeul parajmdoultaiga nomou djoa.”
“What is that gibberish?”
“It’s Korean for ‘I like it when you suck my toes.’”
“That’s it. You’ve completely lost your mind!”
“I didn’t come here for your thoughts on my mental well-being. I came for an advance on my royalties.”
“So, you are serious?”
“You were the one who said that success over there would give my numbers a boost in the US and thus in Europe. My understanding is, if I catch that plane, we make a fortune. Right? So, according to your own logic, a small advance shouldn’t pose that much of a problem.”
“That was just in theory . . . Only time will tell whether or not I’m right.”
Cristoneli looked pensive, then finally added, “Then again, if you were to tell the Korean media that you’re moving to their country, the effect would be enormous. If your publisher over there had you on hand, they’d be more inclined to double their efforts at promoting your books.”
“Yadda yadda yadda,” muttered Paul. “So we have an agreement?”
“On one condition! No matter what happens over there, I remain your primary editor. I don’t want to hear anything about a new book contract signed between you and any Korean publisher—am I clear? I’ve driven your career forward single-handedly up to now!”
“Granted, you haven’t driven it very far.”
“What ingratitude! Do you want this advance or not?”
Paul stopped arguing. He scrawled the figure he hoped to extract from Cristoneli on a paper napkin. His editor rolled his eyes, crossed out the number, and cut it in half.
They shook hands on the deal—as good as a contract in the world of publishing.
“I’ll give you the check when we’re on our way to the airport. That way, I can make sure you actually catch your flight.”
Paul left Cristoneli to pay the bill.
