“I started because it makes people leave you alone when you’re in a less charming mood,” he said mildly. Then he shrugged. “I stay because you’re my friend. I like being around you.”
“We ought to grab coffee sometime outside work.”
“Your treat. I can’t expense the coffee if it’s not work.” Ian’s words were a challenge or maybe just a question.
“I’d like that.” Greta didn’t really have much of a social life the last two years. She worked. She worked some more. She had flings with strangers. Aside from visiting her sister every so often, she was isolated.
Intentionally so.
Maybe it was time to rediscover that part of her life, too. Her breakup with Tasha had led to a lot of withdrawing when she realized that all her friends weretheirfriends. Tasha wasn’t ready for their life together, even though she had pressed for marriage to the point that Greta felt like she had to ask her to move in, had to put a ring on her hand.
Then six months later, Tasha moved out and took all their friends with her.
And I crawled into my shell.
Lee was the first person since the breakup who had made her ponder if she was ready to try dating again. Notjustbecause of the sex, either. They’d had fun talking yesterday.
Maybe it was the idea of having a friend to spend time with.…
But Ian was her friend, too, and maybe Emily Haide could be. There were other editors and agents she was friendly with. Maybe she had the possibilities of social outings and just hadn’t admitted that.
Maybe I need to find a book club or something.…
Almost two hours later, her phone buzzed, and Ian grabbed it. She was inordinately glad that he wasn’t ready to move on to another publisher. He could. Plenty of places had been trying to lure him away the last year, maybe thinking that he was the reason Toni Darbyshire was with her. Ian was decidedly out, and a lot of people were new enough not to realize that Greta herself was also out. Being privacy focused meant that a fair number of people were oblivious; they hadn’t met Tash because it was so long ago in publishing time. Turnover in the industry was frequent.
Or maybe it’s because I don’t match their stereotypes.
“I’m glad you haven’t left for greener pastures,” Greta blurted out. She wasn’t usually so blunt or emotional, but she would be lost if Ian did leave. Training a new assistant always had a learning curve that wasn’t ever as easy as she expected.
“I have no intention of leaving. I do think I ought to get a betterraise this year.” Ian grinned as he stood. “That was the front desk. Your author and the delightful Ms. Haide are on their way up.”
Greta nodded. “See them to the conference room for me. Art needs to talk to them now before we do anything else.”
“Youaren’t meeting them at the elevator…?”
“So far, Carpenter is as approachable as an old hound with a sore tooth. I want to have something for her to focus on when we meet, and you’re a bundle of happiness so…” Greta made a shooing motion. “Go be charming. I’ll be in with the art.”
Ian laughed. “I amalwayscharming.”
“I am not.”
“Obviously,” he teased.
Once he was gone, Greta called the art department. “Our author’s here.”
“On the way,” Shay said in her perpetually cheerful voice. “I’ll grab Charlie. It’s the only way to separate her from her work.”
“The problem with a good publicist,” Greta agreed with a laugh.
She had a great team. Charlotte was the kind of publicist other publishing houses would love to steal, and Shay headed up a group of designers who were either creating the trends or finding ways to keep their spin on existing cover trends fresh. Ian, of course, made Greta’s part of the book process run smoothly. Marketing was still in flux. They had good people, but they weren’t as gelled as the other departments.
They’ll still charm even a shy author like Kaelee Carpenter.
With that thought in mind, Greta walked toward the conference room, expecting to have all of five minutes there without the distraction of art and publicity.This will be fine. We’ll get the author over her reserve.Greta saw Emily, the agent for this book and Darbyshire’s books, through the glass walls as she stepped in. She saw the back of another person, short dark hair that looked a lot like Lee’s.
“Hi, I’m Greta. How lovely to meet y—” Her words faltered as the author turned around.
The look on her author’s face was as stunned as the feelings churning in Greta’s stomach.
