“Mom, what’s wrong?”
I blinked, startled from my thoughts. “Oh, nothing.”
“Did something happen?” Tyler’s face scrunched up, clearly worried.
I pushed away my plate. “I had a difficult discussion with one of the Hawthorne folks. Nothing to worry about, really, but it has me agitated.”
“What was difficult about it?” Tyler asked.
I sighed consciously this time. “It was the marketing vice-president. Brooke Gaines.”
“Oh yeah, I remember her from one of your signings,” Tyler said. “She gave me the creeps. Like vampire energy.”
“Yes, that’s her,” I said.
“What did she want?” Tyler asked.
Hunter scowled. “Let me guess. She wants to play up our relationship for publicity purposes.”
I blinked, astonished he’d guessed it so quickly. “How did you know?”
“The music business is pretty much the same,” Hunter said. “These days, the head honchos grab hold of anything that gets attention and use it to their advantage.”
“What did you tell her?” Tyler asked me.
“I told her no,” I said. “She suggested she send photographers to take candid photos of Hunter and me. Like at your baseball game, for example.”
“She thinks that will help you sell more books?” Tyler asked. “That’s weird.”
“Think of it as a story,” Hunter said to Tyler. “Famous single romance author dating the guy Dana has everyone talking about. People will be fascinated, even though there’s nothing remotely scandalous about any of it.”
“She said my sales have been declining.” Just saying the words filled me with shame. I was letting my son down, and I had no power to fix it. “And Sylvia recently suggested I pivot. Write for a younger reader. More angst.”
“Like something that goes viral on TikTok,” Tyler asked.
“Exactly,” I said, feeling sick.
“Dorian told me he can’t keep copies of your latest one stocked,” Tyler said, sounding protective. “People keep buying them.”
“I don’t have sales data, which is the problem,” I said. “Publishers like to keep that from their authors.”
“So they can control you better,” Hunter said. “Through fear and shame.”
“Like my baseball coach in middle school. Mom, do you remember his style of public shaming?”
I grew hot just thinking about that guy. We’d had words more than once. “Oh, I remember. And yes, it’s similar. Only the folks at Hawthorne are more subtle about it.”
Hunter pushed away his mostly eaten meal and splayed his hands on the table. “Let’s talk about this. As a family.” He hesitated. “I mean, as if we were a family.”
As a family. Okay. That was a big thing to say.
“Yeah, sure,” Tyler said, leaning forward. “So we all weigh in on how much Mom should let them exploit your relationship?”
My son. Fifteen going on fifty.
“What do you think?” I asked Tyler.
“I think you should be you, Mom. But if you’re worried about your sales numbers and you think this will help, maybe consider it.”
