With Alex’s permission, Rose sent the confidentiality agreement over to the publisher, and waited to see what they would say. Alex was reassured and liked the fact that they would have $10 million at stake. She didn’t think that she was worth it, and couldn’t imagine making that kind of money, but it would certainly force them to be discreet, and be a strong incentive to keep her identity secret.
Much to Rose’s surprise, she got a call from the president of the publishing house two days later.
“Who the hell is this guy? The president of the United States? And why is his identity worth ten million dollars?”
“No, it’s not the president,” Rose said calmly. “But you could injure his career severely if you expose him.” She wasn’t going to let on that the author of the Green books, as they called them, was a woman until they signed the agreement.
“Is he a criminal of some kind? Will his identity embarrass us?” The president was obviously worried, and with good reason for that kind of money. Any kind of slip could cost them a fortune, but it would damage Alex’s career irreparably. You couldn’t unring a bell once word was out, nor gauge reader reaction beforehand.
“Not at all,” Rose reassured him. “It’s the author who is at risk here, not you.”
“Like hell, with ten million on the line if someone talks.” He sounded frustrated. “I’ll get back to you in a day or two. We need to think about it.”
“That’s fine,” she said smoothly. She reported back to Alex that night. All they could do now was wait and see if the publisher came around. She thought they would. There was too much money to be made in the future for them not to.
It took longer than she thought, and he called her back in a week. He didn’t sound happy about it, but an entire committee had agreed they had no choice. But they were very worried now about who the author was, if he was a gangster of some kind, or someone whose work they wouldn’t want to publish if they knew the truth, although Rose had assured him that was not the case. And she was still concerned about the meeting, even with the agreement. She wasn’t as afraid they’d talk afterward—in fact, she was certain they wouldn’t—but she had no idea how they’d feel to learn that their star writer, big moneymaker, and latest discovery was a girl barely out of her teens. They knew that Bert Kingsley was editing Green, which they liked, since they had worked with him many times before, and they knew how superb his editing was. But they had no idea who the author was, which was why they wanted to meet him before they bought another book, let alone two, at a stiff price. It wasn’t unreasonable, just very delicate and dicey.
The meeting was set for a Friday, in Rose’s office, at three o’clock. The president, CEO, and CFO were coming, the editor in chief, and Amanda Smith, Alex’s contact at her publishers, whom she corresponded with by email regularly and liked. Rose knew all the men coming to the meeting, but not Amanda. Each of them had signed a separate confidentiality agreement with the company, internally, accepting liability if they talked.
Alex took the train down from Boston on the appointed day. She wore a new navy blue dress and matching coat she had bought to wear to her graduation dinner in six weeks. And in case she was late and had to run through the station to make it in time, she had worn little flat black suede shoes, and she looked more than ever like a schoolgirl with her shining dark straight hair down her back, when she arrived at Rose’s office at two-thirty. She was very nervous and her eyes were huge, as she sat anxiously at the edge of a chair across from Rose’s desk.
“It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.” Rose tried to calm her down. “They’re going to love you,” she believed it, after they got over the initial shock, which would be enormous. Alex did not look for a minute like someone who could write intricate, brilliant, violent books like the Green books. They were far too complex for anyone her age to write, and yet she did, even though she had spent the last six and a half years in a convent, and was still in college, though not for much longer, with graduation looming.
The group from the publishers arrived on the dot of three. They were quiet and expectant, and were shown to Rose’s corner office by an assistant who led the way. Rose had thought to put bottles of water with a bottle of scotch, one of bourbon, another of gin, and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on the coffee table in her office, surrounded by a leather couch and four chairs for important meetings. She thought they might need the booze after reality hit them, either to celebrate, or revive them. In either case, it would calm their nerves.
Instinctively Alex stood up and went to stand next to Rose before they walked in, as though she felt she needed protection from the publishing contingent. She had taken her coat off, which made her seem younger and slighter than ever. She looked like Snow White, or a dark-haired Alice in Wonderland, with terrified eyes when the four men and one woman walked into Rose’s office with stern faces. Rose was afraid that Alex might faint, as Rose shook hands with all of them and invited them to sit down, and thanked them for coming. They noticed the alcohol on the table and said nothing. All five of them were tense, and they paid no attention to Alex, who was nearly shrinking behind her agent, trying to disappear, and Rose suspected correctly that they had mistaken her for Rose’s assistant, although she didn’t look old enough to be that either, with her long hair and flat shoes, and no makeup.
“Where is he?” John Rawlings, the CEO, asked tersely. “Is he late or in another room, waiting to make an entrance?” He was fiercely unhappy with the confidentiality agreement that they’d signed, but the president had convinced him they had no choice.
“He’s here,” Rose said, drawing out the suspense a moment longer, and enjoying it, as the five representatives of the publishing house stared at her expectantly. “Right here, in fact.” Rose stepped aside quietly, leaving Alex exposed behind her, as Alex looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment. “I would like to introduce you to my client, Alexandra Winslow…otherwise known as Alexander Green.” There was dead silence in the room as the five publishing executives stared at her, some literally with their mouths open. Rose put a gentle hand on her shoulder, and Alex spoke in barely more than a whisper, staring at them too.
“Hello.”