complete fucking idiot. “I’m sorry, Tess, but I think we’re going to take a pass on
Duopoly
. The sales on
Singularity
just don’t warrant us continuing with the series. So we’re giving up our option, and you can feel free to shop it elsewhere. Sorry to hear about Lowell, by the way. Cheers.”
Idiot, idiot, idiot.
I called him back. He wasn’t there, of course.
“Malcolm, it’s Tess. When you open your mouth to talk, does everyone around you wonder who farted? Go shag yourself.”
No, I was more discreet.
“Malcolm, it’s Tess. I hate to see you miss this opportunity. Tom Cruise may be interested in
Singularity
for a film. You know what that would do to the price for
Duopoly
. Last chance, call me.”
Okay, well, Tom
might
be interested. If Felicia Castro ever let him read it, he would be interested. Close enough.
I texted Emma what was really on my mind:
TOLD DARCY I LOVE HIM. AM I NUTS?
She replied almost immediately:
NOT NUTS. YOU GO GIRL.
Despite Emma’s optimism, I was discouraged, so I called a couple of clients and discreetly floated the idea of starting my own agency, and if I did, would they join me? They said yes, absolutely, you’re our girl, follow you to the ends of the earth, that sort of thing. I was pleased, but I’m no fool. Clients hate change. They like everything to stay exactly the way it is. Having your agent go out on her own induces paroxysms of doubt and a lot of thumb sucking. What about my past deals? what about my future deals? what about my international deals? what about my movie rights? who will pay me? what will my editor say? what about my taxes—that sort of thing. I know that, eventually, I will simply have to pull thetrigger and hope that many of my clients have the courage to follow me.
I read manuscripts for another hour. Finished my coffee. Checked voice mail on my cell phone. Still nothing from Darcy.
My office phone rang. Rare for a Saturday. I thought it must be him, so I grabbed it up and said “Tess Drake” in as breathy a voice as I could muster.
It wasn’t him. It was Guy.
“Oh. Filippa. You’re there.”
“I’m here.” Breathy turned to frosty.
“I thought I’d get your machine.”
“Well, you got the real deal, Guy. What do you want?” And what the fuck were you doing with Saleema last night?
“Ah, actually, this is a little awkward.”
“Now you know how I felt yesterday.”
“Yes, about that.” He stopped.
“I’m listening.”
“The thing is, I’m calling to apologize,” Guy said.
Apologize? Guy?
“Ooookay,” I said, drawing out the word so he knew that I was suspicious.
“Truly, I was out of line.”
“I know.”
“I wonder if we could forget all about that conversation and start over.”
“Why the change of heart, Guy?”
I was trying to figure out Guy’s ulterior motive and whether it had anything to do with Saleema.
“Isn’t it enough that I’m telling you I’m sorry?”
“No.”
I heard him sigh theatrically. “Look, I was having a bad day. Money problems. I won’t bore you with the details.”
“Please don’t.”
“So that whole commission thing—I hope you’ll just forget I said anything of the sort. I wouldn’t want rumors like that to get out.”
“I forgot it as soon as you said it, Guy, because it was never going to happen.”
“Ah. Yes. Well, good. And the other thing, I mean, about you and me. You know, Brighton and so forth. I thought perhaps, well … you
are
very attractive, Filippa. I’ve always thought so.”
“End of discussion, Guy.”
“Yes, of course. Again, I’m sorry. What I wanted to tell you is that I am happy to put our negotiations about Dorothy’s next contract on hold for a while. Until you clear up your own situation. Okay? We’ll consider the deal discussion so far to be no more than idle chitchat. The real work will begin when you say so.”
That was exactly what I wanted, so I couldn’t help wonder: What game was Guy playing?
“I
Duopoly
. The sales on
Singularity
just don’t warrant us continuing with the series. So we’re giving up our option, and you can feel free to shop it elsewhere. Sorry to hear about Lowell, by the way. Cheers.”
Idiot, idiot, idiot.
I called him back. He wasn’t there, of course.
“Malcolm, it’s Tess. When you open your mouth to talk, does everyone around you wonder who farted? Go shag yourself.”
No, I was more discreet.
“Malcolm, it’s Tess. I hate to see you miss this opportunity. Tom Cruise may be interested in
Singularity
for a film. You know what that would do to the price for
Duopoly
. Last chance, call me.”
Okay, well, Tom
might
be interested. If Felicia Castro ever let him read it, he would be interested. Close enough.
I texted Emma what was really on my mind:
TOLD DARCY I LOVE HIM. AM I NUTS?
She replied almost immediately:
NOT NUTS. YOU GO GIRL.
Despite Emma’s optimism, I was discouraged, so I called a couple of clients and discreetly floated the idea of starting my own agency, and if I did, would they join me? They said yes, absolutely, you’re our girl, follow you to the ends of the earth, that sort of thing. I was pleased, but I’m no fool. Clients hate change. They like everything to stay exactly the way it is. Having your agent go out on her own induces paroxysms of doubt and a lot of thumb sucking. What about my past deals? what about my future deals? what about my international deals? what about my movie rights? who will pay me? what will my editor say? what about my taxes—that sort of thing. I know that, eventually, I will simply have to pull thetrigger and hope that many of my clients have the courage to follow me.
I read manuscripts for another hour. Finished my coffee. Checked voice mail on my cell phone. Still nothing from Darcy.
My office phone rang. Rare for a Saturday. I thought it must be him, so I grabbed it up and said “Tess Drake” in as breathy a voice as I could muster.
It wasn’t him. It was Guy.
“Oh. Filippa. You’re there.”
“I’m here.” Breathy turned to frosty.
“I thought I’d get your machine.”
“Well, you got the real deal, Guy. What do you want?” And what the fuck were you doing with Saleema last night?
“Ah, actually, this is a little awkward.”
“Now you know how I felt yesterday.”
“Yes, about that.” He stopped.
“I’m listening.”
“The thing is, I’m calling to apologize,” Guy said.
Apologize? Guy?
“Ooookay,” I said, drawing out the word so he knew that I was suspicious.
“Truly, I was out of line.”
“I know.”
“I wonder if we could forget all about that conversation and start over.”
“Why the change of heart, Guy?”
I was trying to figure out Guy’s ulterior motive and whether it had anything to do with Saleema.
“Isn’t it enough that I’m telling you I’m sorry?”
“No.”
I heard him sigh theatrically. “Look, I was having a bad day. Money problems. I won’t bore you with the details.”
“Please don’t.”
“So that whole commission thing—I hope you’ll just forget I said anything of the sort. I wouldn’t want rumors like that to get out.”
“I forgot it as soon as you said it, Guy, because it was never going to happen.”
“Ah. Yes. Well, good. And the other thing, I mean, about you and me. You know, Brighton and so forth. I thought perhaps, well … you
are
very attractive, Filippa. I’ve always thought so.”
“End of discussion, Guy.”
“Yes, of course. Again, I’m sorry. What I wanted to tell you is that I am happy to put our negotiations about Dorothy’s next contract on hold for a while. Until you clear up your own situation. Okay? We’ll consider the deal discussion so far to be no more than idle chitchat. The real work will begin when you say so.”
That was exactly what I wanted, so I couldn’t help wonder: What game was Guy playing?
“I
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