Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
My heart drops despite Valentine’s voice echoing, “Says here he’s recently single.”
I type out, Alex Moore and Maggie Gardner break up, and hit enter.
One link. I click and Twitter opens.
PPFan4life: OMG! My heart. Alex and Maggie broke up.
SuperBowler123: No, there’s no way. They’re aisle bound
SianPioneers: They haven’t been seen together in months.
PPFan4life: And Maggie’s living in London.
JPLovesFootball: Hello, British boys!
SianPioneers: Ugh, no! Alex is perfect.
JPLovesFootball: No way, give me Chase!!
NoahsNo1Fan: Noah!!
4225Wester: Harrison!!!!!
PPFan4life: This thread is getting off track. Keep to Alex and Maggie or I’ll delete.
NoahsNo1Fan: Such a bitch. It’s a sub convo.
PPFan4life: Bite me.
SianPioneers: Tickets for the game, I’m making a sign I love you, Alex.
SuperBowler123: He’ll never see it. Besides, he loves Maggie.
PPFan4life: OMG do you remember when he told the reporter he wanted to marry her?? Swoon!!!!
JPLovesFootball: He’s too big for me. I like them skinny.
SianPioneers: You’re watching the wrong sport.
Jenny_notfromtheblock: I like my men thick.
SianPioneers:Alex is thick – if you know what I mean.
Jenny_notfromtheblock: You don’t know jack shit.
I exit out of twitter and go back to looking at photos of Maggie. She’s perfect in the way I strive to be but never will. My job doesn’t require power suits, and no one is eagerly sending me gala invites. It takes me hours to get my hair to curl and that’s if I add a ton of product. Not Maggie though, with her perfectly curled blonde hair, svelte figure, and picture ready image.
Blah.
The alarm on my phone goes off, reminding me it’s time for our production meeting. I gather my files and laptop and head into the conference room. I’m kicking myself for feeling a little under prepared. When I should’ve been preparing, I was too busy Googling a man I just met and obsessing over his ex.
Thankfully, I’m last on the list to present, which gives me a few minutes to put some key points down. When it’s my turn, I talk about the five offers I want to make, and in a surprise move Jonathan, not Kit, gives me the approval I need to move forward with three of them. One being the football story.
Valentine bumps my arm as we’re leaving. “Looks like you’ll have another excuse to see Alex.” She winks and my insides do a twist. I want to see Alex again, even though it might be unprofessional.
“Yes, he offered to help so that’ll be great.”
“Maybe he’ll read the first draft.”
I laugh aloud. “Oh, can you imagine?”
“Actually, yes. I can. It’d be amazing marketing and I’m here for it.”
“Oh,” I pause. “Yes, I guess that would be good.”
“I might have to run this one by Myles if the author takes your offer. Let me know.”
Back at my desk, I send an email to the agent with our offer. It’s a little on the low side, but this is a debut author and I’m doing this without having read the full manuscript. It’s not how I always operate, but there are times when you have a good feeling about a story.
Once that’s sent, I print off the new submissions I received overnight and start going through them, breaking only to eat lunch and return emails. Of the three offers I made, one wants to negotiate a higher advance. I reply with a counteroffer, which I think is fair, but have a feeling the agent is going to pass. It won’t be the first time this has happened. In this business, you win some, lose some.
Toward the end of my day, my phone vibrates, and Alex’s name shows on the screen. It takes me a couple of rings before my brain and hand sync up. “Hello?” I say as I walk as fast as I can to one of our private rooms where all phone calls need to happen so I don’t disturb the other editors.
“Hey, Kelsey. Am I catching you at a bad time?”
“Not really. Just reading over book submissions.”
“Really? Do you get a lot?”
“Sometimes,” I tell him. “Today, it’s ten. Yesterday, twenty-five.”
“With the football one?”
“Yes, that was yesterday. I made an offer on it,” I tell him.
“That’s awesome. Maybe you want to tell me about it at dinner tonight?”
Yes, yes I do.
I really liked being in his company yesterday and while my stomach may be twisting around, my heart jumps at the idea of spending time with him. If anything, he’s going to be a good friend and someone who can help me make this book successful.
“What do you have in mind?”
“There’s an amazing Italian place near my house. I could come pick you up after practice, and then I’ll drive you back home.”
“That sounds like a lot of trouble.”
Alex chuckles. “Something tells me you’ll be worth the trouble, Kelsey.”
My stomach, heart, and every other vital organ hits the floor with a thud and has a dance party.
“I’m not sure what to say.”