Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
But isn’t it better to hear it and face the truth than to never call and wonder, for the rest of my life, if he still might’ve been interested?
I take a breath, go out onto my office terrace, and press send as I watch the gulls dive for fish.
The call is picked up on the first ring. “North Star Author Agency, how can I direct your call?”
Shit. He didn’t give me a direct number. I let out a breath. I might as well just see it through. “Yes. I’m calling for Gary Pritchard. This is Steve Smith.”
“One moment, Mr. Smith.”
Elevator music comes through the speaker. Then a moment later, he picks up. “Steve. Gary here.”
I’m relieved. He took my call! “Hi. Yeah. Steve here. Just following up after our talk on Sunday. I wanted to—”
“Let me just stop you right there, Steve.”
“Oh.” My stomach sinks. “OK.”
“Yeah. I’m sure it’s not a surprise to you, but… I’m sorry. We can’t be associated with Steve Smith. North Star Author Agency has a reputation to protect.”
“But… I know it was wrong to lie about who wrote the books—”
“Oh, no. We don’t care about that.”
“What?”
“No one cares if you and your sister… whatever that was.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Never mind. Everyone has secret pen names, Steve. Do you have any idea how many men I personally represent who are secretly writing erotica on the side right now? Dozens. No one cares who writes the books.”
“I’m… pretty sure that’s not true.”
“Oh, it is. They want books, Steve. Stories. No one cares who writes them. Our problem with you right now is the way you treat your fellow authors.”
“The way I… what?”
“And I would’ve been totally on board with taking you on as a client if you decided to write under another secret name.”
“Another secret name?”
“Yeah. So no one would know it was you.”
I let out a sigh. “You want me to start a new lie?”
“Well, yeah,” Gary says. “Kind of. That was my original proposal. We like to start a new brand when we sign our authors. We like to… you know, guide your whole career kind of thing.”
I scoff. “You mean control my entire career kind of thing.”
“Sure. You could say that. But no. What I’m saying is that would’ve been the offer if Raylen Star hadn’t happened.”
“She’s lying, though. That whole story she’s telling is a lie. I never did any of that stuff. We didn’t do any of that.”
“That’s not really the issue though, is it? The issue is perception. The story, remember? No one cares if it’s true, Steve. Just like no one really cares if you write the books or your sister does. Plus, Raylen has a lot of fans.”
“Does she?”
Now he scoffs. “See, that right there? That’s the problem.”
“What did I do?”
“That condescending tone about Raylen’s fans? You’re sexist, Steve.”
“What?” I actually laugh.
“Well, that’s the trajectory of the perception. Ya know? Give it a week and you’re going to be the world’s most hated misogynist. And to be frank, that’s just not an image North Star Author Agency wants to be a part of.”
My laugh dies abruptly. I don’t say anything. I don’t have anything to say. It’s stupid. Ridiculous. It’s… not true.
But I know he’s right. I’m in the middle of a cancel campaign. There is no room for the truth at this point in time. It’s all trajectory. And there’s nothing I can do about it.
“So…” Gary continues. “Good luck.”
And then the call ends.
It does not matter if I’m innocent.
The only thing that matters is who has the most compelling story.
And that, I guess, is it.
“Look!” Shawn says, pointing at my giant TV with the remote. “Munch is on Noon News LA!”
“Why are you torturing him, Shawn?” Luke is playing darts. He’s hit my fucking wall seven times since he got here an hour ago. “Leave the poor guy alone.”
“No, I wanna hear it,” Terry says. “Turn it up.”
No one asks me what I want, so Shawn turns it up.
“And what did he say?” Noon News host Angie Stevens, asks.
Raylen, on day three post-blow-up, still has two black eyes and a very crooked nose. She sucks in a fake sob. The camera does a close-up of a little tear sliding down her cheek. “He said… he said… ‘Raylen, you don’t deserve a good spot in the room. So we put you in the corner. That’s where you belong.’” She breaks down, covering her face, pretending to cry.
“For fuck’s sake,” Luke says, then looks at me. “No one believes that shit. No one.”
“She stole that scene from Dirty Dancing,” Terry says. “Like… what the fuck, right? ‘No one puts Baby in the corner?’ How is anyone buying this?”
“Well,” Angie says on the TV, “everyone seems to be on your side, Raylen. So even though it’s been hard, I have a feeling you’re going to get the justice you deserve.”