“Tell me about your meeting.”
“It was incredible!”
I settle beside him, unable to contain my enthusiasm. “Okay, so I logged onto the call early because you know me and anxiety, and I thought I was on mute while I waited for the acquisitions manager to join. So naturally, I started giving myself a pep talk.”
Pierce’s eyebrows rise. “A pep talk?”
“You know, the usual. ‘You’ve got this, Meatball. Don’t say anything stupid. Try not to accidentally insult anyone’s artistic choices. Remember, confidence is key.’” I cover myface with my hands. “Except I wasn’t on mute. Jennifer heard everything, including the part where I said ‘Please don’t let me word-vomit about my hot boss again.’”
Pierce chokes on a laugh. “You didn’t.”
“I did! And when she unmuted herself, the first thing she said was ‘Well, at least you’re honest about your inspirations.’” I peek through my fingers. “I wanted to disappear into the floor. But then she started laughing and said she appreciated authenticity in artists.”
“Only you could turn a technical mishap into a bonding moment,” Pierce says, his smile warm and proud.
“Right? So anyway, after I managed to stop blushing, the actual meeting was incredible…”
Pierce’s smile grows as he watches me talk, his attention completely focused on my story.
“And Anita—that’s the editor I met—she loved my portfolio. Like, actually loved it. She said my style was fresh and that my characters had real personality.” I pull out my phone to show him the notes I took. “But here’s the thing— She can’t just offer me a contract right away.”
“No?”
“No, it’s a whole process. First, I need to find a literary agent. The agent represents me with publishers and negotiates contracts. Then I have to submit a formal proposal—three finished stories, character sketches, a series outline, market analysis, all sorts of professional stuff.”
Pierce nods, following along. “That sounds extensive.”
“It is, but Jennifer gave me a list of agents who specialize in children’s illustrations. She even said she’d put in a good word with a couple of them.” I can’t keep the grin off my face. “She wants to see a full series proposal, Pierce. Not just one book, but a whole series about characters who turn disasters into adventures.”
“That’s incredible, Thatcher. You must be thrilled.”
“I am, but I’m also terrified. This is real now, you know? Like, actually possible. I could have books in stores, kids reading stories I created…” I trail off, suddenly self-conscious. “Sorry, I’m rambling. You said you had something important to tell me?”
Pierce’s expression shifts, the joy fading from his eyes. “There’s something important we need to talk about.”
The words hit me like ice water. The way he’s looking at me, the tone, the sudden distance. I know this expression. I’ve seen it before, right before every relationship I’ve ever had ended.
“You’re breaking up with me. I mean, not that we were in an actual relationship,relationship,right?” The words tumble out before I can stop them, panic rising in my throat.
“Thatcher, no.” Pierce’s hands cup my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. “That’s not what this is. Well, I…”
“Then what?”
He runs his hands through his hair and down his face like this is something he needs to do,notsomething he wants to do. That’s something, right?
“You remember the threat from James? It’s part of the reason we went to New York in the first place. Lior and I took care of the immediate problem, but…”
“But?”
“But there’s a chance James might come after me personally now. Look for vulnerabilities, ways to hurt me and the company.” Pierce’s thumbs stroke my cheekbones. “If anyone finds out about us, it could ruin both our reputations. Question Lior’s leadership. Destroy everything his family worked to build.”
The words settle in my stomach like stones. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying we have two options.” Pierce’s voice is steady, but I can see the pain in his eyes. “You quit VSE, which removes the workplace conflict and frees us to be together publicly. Or…”
“Or we end this.”
“Or we end this.”
