Won’t be published next year? Given up on it? Isn’t all that bright? What the hell?
Izzy felt enraged, betrayed. How could they do this to Beau? How could they do this to her? He’d worked so hard. Marta knew how hard he was working, he’d told her! To hit him out of nowhere, insult him like this, with just an anonymous quote in some gossipy publishing piece, felt cruel.
And she’d worked so hard with him. Did none of that matter? Had they just let her keep working with him after they’d given up on Beau, after they’d realized they didn’t want his memoir anyway, just for busy work, because they’d given up on her, too?
Did he know about this? No he couldn’t know, he would have asked her about it. Maybe he thought she knew and didn’t tell him, and that’s why he hadn’t texted her?
If that was why, then she was furious at Beau, too. How could he think that she wouldn’t tell him about this? How could he think she wouldn’t be on his side?
She should text Priya back.
No—I didn’t know any of this
Ok, let’s talk asap tomorrow. Can’t wait for you to be back in the office!
I can’t wait, too!
That was a lie, but what else was she supposed to say to Priya? She didn’t want to go back to the office at all—even though she was angry at Beau for not texting her, for not trusting her, she was just as angry at Marta for doing this to Beau.
She had to talk to Marta about this. Even though she didn’t think she’d ever see Beau again, even though their relationship might be over, she still believed in his book. While she’d been in California, she’d learned how to fight for herself and her dreams. She was going to keep fighting. For her dreams, and for Beau’s.
On her walk to work the next morning, Izzy smiled as she looked around. When she’d left the city less than two months ago, the world had been gray, dreary, hopeless. Now the sun was out, there were flowers everywhere, and birds chirped all around her. She was actually happy to be here. To be back. And she was happy about more than just that. She was nervous about today, about walking back into the office for the first time in so long, and about confronting Marta about that article. And she missed Beau, so much she could barely think about it, so much she knew she would have to guard her facial expression when she talked to Marta about his book. But she also felt hope for the future, for her future. She loved books, she loved writing, she loved publishing, and she knew she had a place in that world. She wasn’t going to let anyone take that love from her again.
A few minutes before nine, she walked into the TAOAT offices. It took her much longer to get to her desk than usual—everyone stopped her on the way, smiled at her, said how much they’d missed her, gave her hugs, handed her advance copies of books they’d been saving for her. She hadn’t realized how many people here knew and liked her.
Marta’s office was still dark when Izzy got to her desk, but she’d known it would be. She had a stack of mail on her desk; that would help keep her busy while she waited for Marta. She glanced at her email inbox, but the number of new messages was overwhelming. She was already stressed about this upcoming conversation with Marta. The email could wait.
After about half an hour, Gavin walked by. “Isabelle, welcome back.”
She wasn’t going to let him destroy her good mood today. “Thanks, Gavin.”
He, apparently, was in a good mood today, too, if his insufferable grin was any sign. “You finally gave up on Beau Towers, huh?” he asked. “Don’t worry, it’s okay. I’m sure you’ll have more—and better—opportunities eventually.”
She knew Gavin was dying for her to ask him what he knew about the status of Beau’s book and to bring up that other memoir he’d acquired, but she refused to give him the satisfaction.
“Thanks!” was all she said. Just that moment, her desk phone rang, and she turned to answer it. Gavin walked away toward his desk.
“It’s just me,” Priya said, from five desks down. “I saw you were here and was going to come over for a hug, but then I saw Gavin talking to you and I had to rescue you first. Coffee?”
“Oh definitely,” Izzy said in her most professional voice. “I’ll be sure to pass along that message.”
Priya laughed. “Text me.” She hung up, and Izzy grinned as she reached for her phone.
Coffee, yes! But not until after Marta gets here. I need to find out the deal about that article. I’ll fill you in when I know
Yes, keep me posted. I have some info on that, too; I have to talk to Holly about it. We will DISCUSS
Also, thank God you’re back! I got so much WORK done when you weren’t here, can you imagine??? But wait, why are we still texting, I’m coming over for a hug right now
Izzy laughed as she stood up to greet Priya. She’d missed her so much.
Twenty minutes later, Marta walked in and went straight to her office, staring at something on her phone. Izzy wasn’t sure if Marta hadn’t noticed she was there, or if she had just forgotten that Izzy had been gone. Either way, she forced herself to give Marta time to settle in for the day.
She’d made herself a list of talking points for this conversation with Marta, but were they good enough? Would Marta listen to her? Would Marta be furious at her for pushing back about this? After ten minutes, she couldn’t take it any longer and knocked on Marta’s open door.
Marta looked up from her phone. “Isabelle, you’re back. Excellent.”
Izzy took a step inside. “Thanks, Marta. There was something I—”
Marta waved her to a chair. “This whole thing with you in California worked far better than I thought it would. You managed to get an actual book out of Beau Towers, which I didn’t think was possible.”
Izzy took a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you about—” Suddenly, she realized what Marta had just said. “Wait, what did you just say about Beau Towers?”
“Oh, I assumed you knew, since you were cc’d,” Marta said. “He sent in his manuscript this morning.”
He’d sent Marta the manuscript this morning? The whole manuscript?
“I started reading it on the subway on the way here,” Marta went on. “When he sent those pages a few weeks ago, I could tell it was going to be good, but this is far better than I expected.”
He’d sent Marta pages a few weeks ago? He hadn’t told her he was going to do that.
“Um—yes, he worked really hard on it. It blew my expectations out of the water as well.”
Marta looked very smug. “Sales is going to go bananas for this one. That was a great idea you had, to go talk to him.”
Great idea she had? Now Izzy was very confused.
“I…Thanks, Marta,” she said. “But I saw that piece yesterday, and I thought that TAOAT was planning to cancel the book?”
Marta gestured to her. “Shut the door.”
Izzy got up, shut the door, and sat back down.
“Don’t pay that piece any attention.” She could almost see Marta grind her teeth. “I don’t know who that source was, but when I find out…” Marta smiled. It was the scariest smile Izzy had ever seen. “I reached out to both Beau Towers and his agent as soon as I saw the article. They know it’s bullshit. We haven’t decided how to handle it publicly here yet—now that we have the manuscript, we might just let it stand until we have a cover, surprise the world some, that’s always a good splash. Ooh, or this might be fodder for a new chapter. Publicity will die at that promo material.”
Izzy had no idea what to say. She’d spent the last eighteen hours gearing herself up for this confrontation, but Marta already loved Beau’s book, TAOAT was on his side, and Marta had congratulated her?
“I give you a lot of credit for how good this book is,” Marta said. “Good job.”
As amazing as it felt for Marta to say that, she couldn’t take all the credit. “Thank you, but Beau is a great writer. I did a lot, yes, to help him figure out how to write a memoir, but the writing is all his.”
Marta waved that away. “Yes, yes, that’s what being an editor is. The writing is always all theirs, but that makes our work even more important. His proposal for this memoir was a nightmare. I could see there was a good writer in there, but I knew it would take a lot for me to pull a book out of him. You did a lot of that work for me already.”
Today was not at all turning out to be how she’d expected. Should she do something else that she hadn’t planned on? She didn’t stop to change her mind.