“So, what’s your plan?”
“I’ve already tried reasoning with him until I’m blue in the face—both about closing Squire and about him stepping down. He won’t hear a single word on either score. Which leads us to now.
“I know nothing about children’s books, Martha. I can’t even list three current children’s authors, much less know what the market is like. I’ve worked in so many departments in this company, learning everything I thought I would need to keep our family legacy thriving, from copy editor to marketing assistant to everything in between. Squire’s projections have been bad for so long that I honestly thought their doors would’ve shut by now. Because of that, I haven’t given it or children’s literature much of my energy. I’m operating at a deficit.”
Julien sits up and leans forward, elbows resting on his thighs and his face earnest. “Please say you’ll accept my offer. I know it’s a lot, but I really need your help.”
The way he’s looking at me would put May’s puppy-dog eyes to shame. I can feel the pull of his cobalt irises down to my toes. The arm of his suit jacket has ridden up, exposing his wrist and a row of thin leather bracelets stacked on top ofone another. The casual look is so incongruent with the no-nonsense business vibe he’s pulling off with his tailored suit and gelled-to-sculptural-perfection hair.
I lick my dry lips. “I’m not sure how I can help. I know books and stories and children, not the publishing industry. What, umm, what would you even need me to do?”
“First, coach me a bit on children’s books. Help me get up to speed. But more importantly, Squire needs a bestseller. A title that will catapult revenue and, essentially, save my dad from himself.”
“Don’t you have acquisitions editors to find that for you? And even if I was able to unearth such a book, wouldn’t it still take years to turn Squire around enough to satisfy your dad? The publishing industry is known to run at a glacial pace.”
He grimaces. “I have some ideas to melt the ice, so to speak, and get things hopefully progressing a lot quicker. They aren’t traditional or conventional, but I also don’t have time to do things the same way things have always been done. As far as our acquisitions editor, she just went on maternity leave. She’s going to do light work remotely, but it won’t be enough.”
“Why do you think that I—”
“You said it yourself. You know books and stories and children. You know what books kids are reading. The series they can’t get enough of and the titles they keep coming back to over and over again.”
“You’re giving me too much credit. How am I supposed to find an undiscovered bestseller when there are agents and editors from dozens of publishing houses who are also all looking for the same thing?”
“I never said it would be easy, but I thought we could start by going to where the writers are. There’s a conference near Cocoa Beach, Florida, in a couple of weeks. King is already booked to take pitch appointments. You can listen to storyideas and tell me if any of them have the possibility of matchingHarry Pottersales numbers.”
I give him a deadpanned side-eye. “Easy peasy.”
“Lemon squeezy.” He grins cheekily.
The unexpectedness of him finishing the rest of the saying has me huffing out an unexpected laugh. “If I do this—”
“When.”
I stare hard at him, but my still-smiling lips betray me. “IfI do this, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to find the perfect story you’re looking for.”
“I have faith in you. So, do we have an agreement? For the span of, let’s say, six weeks? Does that timeframe allow you to get the money to the library on time?”
“Let me double-check with my supervisor, but I think so.” The roofers weren’t going to be able to start work for another few weeks, so that pushes back when the library will need to transfer funds. And speaking of funds, it’s a good thing I have a bit of savings put aside if I’m going to go at least a month without income.”
“Okay. So, for the next six weeks, you will provide your professional expertise and teach me all I need to know about children’s books as well as accompany me to a writer’s conference where we will hopefully discover the next big children’s author who will save my grandmother’s imprint. There’s also a slush pile of proposals you’ll need to sift through to see if there’s a diamond amid the dross.” He holds his hand out for me to shake. “Am I looking at the new freelance consultant for Squire?”
As if I ever had another choice if I want to save the library programs. Hoping this isn’t a pivotal turning point in the story plot of my life, I place my hand in his and shake.
4
For the first time since his dad laid out the conditions of the company’s turnover, Julien felt like maybe it was possible. Maybe he could do what so many other publishing companies were failing to do in the current marketplace and actually reverse the decline of a dying imprint.
He’d been trying to convince his father to retire for years now, but his assurances that King would be left in capable hands had only fallen on deaf ears. It was frustrating having to continuously prove himself over and over and then just as often be found lacking. He tried not to take it personally. Tried to remind himself it was his father’s character trait of always needing to be in control and his stubborn denial that he wasn’t the same young man he once was that was fueling his decision of not passing the baton.
But it wasn’t only Julien’s professional aspirations on the line anymore. If his dad didn’t make an abrupt change in his lifestyle, beginning with reducing his stress levels and getting adequate rest—neither of which were possible while being a workaholic—then the next thing to go to print from King was going to be his old man’s obituary.
Julien wasn’t without feeling as to his dad’s perspective on Squire. Grandma had been a special woman in his life growingup as well. She’d died when he was young, just ten years old, but he could still remember the smell of her perfume, like cherry blossoms on a spring day. His first memory of visiting the publishing house, he’d been holding her hand. She’d brought him to her office, where a giant teddy bear sat in a corner. They’d snuggled up together, using the bear to lean against, and she’d read aloud to him prerelease books that hadn’t made it to bookstores yet. She’d called him her little vice president for the day and asked him his opinion about cover options and if a particular back cover copy sounded interesting or not.
Closing the imprint would hurt Julien as well, but it was the right thing to do from a business standpoint. It was what he thought Grandma would tell them to do. Especially if she knew the strain it was putting on the relationship between Julien and his father. Not to mention the harm the stress was having on her son’s health.
If only he could get his dad to listen to reason.
That morning, Julien would’ve said saving Squire was impossible, especially if it was his lack of expertise steering the sinking ship. The last children’s book he remembered reading wasWalk Two Moons. If he hadn’t written a report afterward in which he’d accidentally misspelled the heroine’s name as Salamander instead of Salamanca and his teacher hadn’t corrected him each time in bright red ink, he probably wouldn’t even remember that title. Although how anyone could forget a name like Salamanca Tree Hiddle was beyond him and probably the author’s intention all along.
