The first Natalie Ratcliff book, Baggage, hit shelves in 2005. Hemingway Publishing put out a modest initial press run for the debut, but threw a weighty promotional campaign behind the book. A quirky mystery featuring Peg Perugo—an out-of-work, heavy with Baggage female protagonist who finds love in all the wrong places as she stumbles her way through criminal investigations before nabbing the bad guy—Baggage found an audience. Natalie Ratcliff’s debut became a word-of-mouth publishing phenomenon, and six weeks after it was published the book found the best-seller list. Three weeks later it made it to the top. Foreign rights poured in and the book marched around the world, climbing best-seller lists in every country where it was published. It sold a staggering eight million copies, and made Natalie Ratcliff (and Peg Perugo) a household name. The only book mighty enough to knock Baggage from the top of the New York Times list was its sequel, Hard Knox, which went on to sell eleven million copies. Natalie Ratcliff, once an emergency room physician, quickly grew bored of medicine and waiting rooms filled with sick patients. Concentrating on writing, Natalie pumped out one novel a year and became the best-selling fiction author of the decade. Today, over one hundred million Peg Perugo novels had sold worldwide.
Natalie was spending the summer finishing her sixteenth manuscript, the final in a three-book deal with Hemingway Publishing. Each time Natalie neared the end of a contract, publishers made pitches to Natalie’s literary agent about why she should leave Hemingway and publish with their imprint. Hence, the Escalade parked in front of the Lake Norman mansion. Hemingway Publishing had no intention of letting their top-selling author slip through their fingers. Hemingway had discovered Natalie Ratcliff and her peculiar but lovable protagonist, and Hemingway planned to keep them both. The Escalade may as well have been a Brinks truck.
Kenny Arnett had been the CEO of Hemingway Publishing for more than a decade and had an impressive knack for retaining his A-list authors. Diane Goldstein had edited every Natalie Ratcliff book ever published and felt that she knew Peg Perugo personally. Years before, Diane had taken a chance on Baggage after several other houses passed. Many industry insiders scoffed when Hemingway offered $2 million for Natalie Ratcliff’s third and fourth books, believing Peg Perugo had run her course and that the follow-ups would go the way of many overpriced genre books—big price tag and little return. In retrospect, $2 million turned out to be a bargain for what the books returned. Fifteen books later, Peg Perugo was an unstoppable force with a massive following who loved her flawed personality, her padded midsection, and her ability to outsmart—by accident or otherwise—the baddest of the bad guys.
Kenny stood on the front porch and rang the bell. Diane stood next to him. Today, they were a united front, having dropped everything in New York to come down to North Carolina and resign the publishing house’s most important author. The door opened and Natalie Ratcliff smiled.
“What the hell is going on?” Natalie said. “Diane didn’t tell me you were coming with her, Kenny.”
Kenny Arnett shook Natalie’s hand. “Did you think I’d leave this negotiation up to anyone else?”
Natalie shook her head, eyeing Diane through squinted lids before giving her editor a giant hug. “Playing hardball?” she whispered into Diane’s ear.
“No,” Diane whispered back. “Just bringing the man who signs the checks. And it’s going to be a very big one.”
“Come on in,” Natalie said, releasing her grip.
Kenny and Diane followed Natalie through the sprawling home, decorated to perfection as if Joanna Gaines herself had worked her magic. In the kitchen, a football-field-sized island covered by a slab of treated concrete stood in the middle. Natalie opened a tall wine refrigerator. “I have a Tamber Bey rosé that will be perfect for a hot summer day.”
“I hope it’s perfect for a celebration, as well,” Kenny said.
“You two are really laying it on thick,” Natalie said.
“We want you to know how much you mean to us,” Diane said.
“Let’s sit on the patio.”
Natalie placed three wineglasses and the bottle of rosé onto a tray and they all made their way to the back patio, which offered a magnificent view of Lake Norman and the rolling mountain landscape in the distance.
“Wow,” Kenny said as soon as he stepped foot outside.
Diane shook her head as she took in the scenery. “Every time I visit you, this view gets more stunning.”
“Thank you. We love it, and it never gets old for us, either.” Natalie poured the wine. “Don just had some of the trees trimmed back.”
“How is Don?” Kenny asked.
Natalie and Don Ratcliff were the definition of a power couple, dominating both the publishing and business worlds. Don was the heir apparent to Ratcliff International Cruise Lines—RICL, pronounced “Rickle” throughout the industry. Most cruise boat enthusiasts had taken a RICL cruise at some point, many were fanatics who cruised with no other company. The Ratcliffs were worth billions. Natalie had married into wealth, and then found her own fortune through publishing novels.
“Good,” Natalie said. “He’s actually commandeering this house for the Fourth of July weekend and bringing in his top salespeople as a perk or SPIF, or whatever you call it.”
“You sound thrilled,” Diane said.
“I don’t really care. As long as they clean the beer cans off the patio and no one vomits in the fountain. But I have to write, as you know. My deadline is approaching, so I’m heading back to the city, where it will be empty and quiet, to get some work done. That’s why I was surprised you made the trip down. I’ll be back in Manhattan Friday.”
“And miss this view?” Kenny said. “Plus, we didn’t want to wait until Friday. We want you to know that you’re our biggest priority. You’re family to us, Natalie, and we’re going to make sure you don’t go anywhere.”
“Diane gave me my start. Do you really think I’d go anywhere else?”
“We’re taking nothing for granted,” Kenny said.
“Hemingway is prepared to make an offer for the next five Peg Perugo novels,” Diane said. “We’ve sent a formal offer to your literary agent, but wanted to make sure the offer was in the ballpark of your expectations.”
“It exceeds them,” Natalie said, nodding her head. “My agent called this morning to discuss the details. I have a meeting planned with her next week.”
“If another house comes over the top of us,” Kenny said, “we just ask that you give us an opportunity to rework the deal. It obviously has to make sense for Hemingway, but we’ll move heaven and earth to keep you.”
“I’m really flattered you both made the trip down here,” Natalie said. “And I’m more than blown away by the offer and the effort. But I’m going to let you both in on a little secret. I told my agent not to entertain proposals from any other publishers. I’m one hundred percent satisfied at Hemingway, and Diane is a rock star. I’m not going anywhere.”
Kenny nodded his head slowly and pouted his bottom lip. “Well, that was easier than I imagined.”