“You’re not serious,” the CEO said, looking livid. “Is this some kind of joke? What kind of game are you playing?” he accused the agent, ignoring Alex again as Hugh Stern, the president, watched her closely. There was something very interesting in her eyes that was very different from her juvenile appearance. She had the razor-sharp, determined focus of a genius, and he could almost see her mind racing as she took them all in, even if she appeared terrified of them.
“This is not a joke,” Rose said quietly. “Alexandra came to me two and a half years ago, at nineteen, through a mutual connection. She came down from Boston where she lives, and left her manuscript Blue Steel with me. I was bowled over by it, just as you were. And the only condition she made was that no one ever know that she’s a woman, or just a girl then, really. She believes that men don’t buy crime thrillers written by women, and even if I disagree, Alex’s father told her that and she believed him. And I’m not at all sure that we would have had the success we did with the last book if the public knew it was written by a twenty-one-year-old girl. Alex has considerable experience with the genre, although she has diversified from it and created her own, which appears to be working. She’s been reading crime books, thrillers, and detective stories with her father since she was seven years old. And I can honestly say I think she’s read them all. I brought Bert Kingsley in to help her edit her work with her first book, and he’s been working with her ever since. You know his work. And Alex’s. What you didn’t know until today is her name, how old she is, and that she’s a young woman, and now you do. You can see why we have done everything possible to keep her identity secret, so as not to hurt the books, and scare off their male audience. And I suspect now you’ll be just as anxious as we are to do the same.”
Alex was starting to feel more comfortable, and the five publishers in their chairs looked like they were in shock, except for Amanda Smith, who was smiling broadly, and Alex shyly smiled back. Amanda Smith had a daughter the same age, and she thought everything she’d heard was great, and she loved the fact that the hardcore, hard-edged, hard-hitting, brilliant Alexander Green that everyone was in love with had turned out to be a young woman.
The CEO leaned back in his chair with his hand over his eyes and looked like he was about to have a heart attack. “Oh my God,” was all he could say, and the CFO was grim-faced. The editor in chief clearly didn’t know what to say. And then all of a sudden the president started to laugh. He looked at Rose and at Alex, and he patted the CEO on the arm.
“I have to say, ladies, you really had one on us. Never in a million years would I have ever guessed the Green books were written by a woman, and even less that they were the creation of a girl her age. Alex, you have a very, very twisted mind.” He said it as a compliment and she grinned.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it as it was meant. Rose sat down in one of the chairs then, and signaled to Alex to do the same.
“Now you understand why we don’t want anyone to talk. It would only hurt the books.”
“But how long can we keep it quiet?” The CEO took his hand off his eyes and chimed in, as Rose poured champagne and handed the glasses around. No one declined, and the CEO was looking at the bottle of Johnnie Walker longingly, so Rose poured him a stiff one on the rocks, which he grabbed like a life vest for a drowning man.
“Hopefully forever,” Rose said. “Or for many, many years, until the brand is secure. We’ve created a persona for the author of the books. He’s said to be a recluse. And given the nature of the books, it works, or has so far. No one is begging to see him, or complaining that they can’t. They’re devouring the books, and that’s all we care about, all of us. Much more important, Alex is an extremely hard worker, and very dedicated to the books. She hasn’t stopped working since I met her, and given her age, I think you’ll get a long run out of this, gentlemen.”
The president was smiling again. He thought the whole thing was incredible, and they all exploded into animated chatter at once, Amanda with Alex, as the others talked to each other and Rose. Amanda was congratulating Alex on her success. They all sat there for two hours talking about the risks and possibilities, the way to capitalize on the author’s mysterious image, and how great the books were, drinking heavily while they discussed it all. Rose had opened a third bottle of champagne by then, and the CEO had had four scotches on the rocks, and needed them all to get over the shock.
It was six o’clock when they left Rose’s office, and no one was entirely sober. Alex had had a glass of champagne, and Rose had had Johnnie Walker on the rocks herself with a splash of water, but only one. And the president gave Alex a hug on the way out. Before they left, Rose reminded them that you discovered talent where you found it, no matter how unlikely the source, and you never refused it or turned it away.
“Thank God you didn’t in this case,” the president said with feeling, endorsing what the agent said. He was in full agreement with her. And what a lucky find for all of them and the house Alex had been. “I’ll get the contract for the new books over to you on Monday,” he assured Rose as they left, and she nodded. Everything was moving forward again.
Rose collapsed in one of the chairs and looked up at Alex when they were alone again. “Well, Mr. Green, what do you think?” Rose was extremely pleased with how it had gone. It couldn’t have been better.
“I was scared to death,” Alex admitted, as she sipped what was left of her champagne. She hadn’t dared drink too much.
“I thought John Rawlings was going to have a heart attack in my office,” she said of the CEO and they both laughed. “I will never forget the look on their faces, but Hugh Stern is really a good guy.” He had been the first to come around when he started to laugh and broke the ice.
“I’m glad I met Amanda. She’s really nice and always so helpful,” Alex added.
“And a good editor, but not as good as Bert.”
They dissected the meeting for another half hour, and then Alex had to catch her train. She was going to take a cab to the station.
“I was very proud of you, Alex,” Rose said as she hugged her before she left.
“I thought you were wonderful,” Alex said softly. “Do you think they’ll keep the secret?”
“They don’t want to blow ten million dollars, so yes, they will keep the secret. They are now our partners in crime, to keep your identity safe.”
Alex left to go back to Boston then, and Rose helped herself to another drink. It had been tense for a moment at first, but it had all gone better than she hoped.
On Monday, Hugh Stern, the president, was true to his word. He sent back the signed contract for Alex’s next two books, and met Rose’s demand. She smiled when she saw it. They were in the big leagues now. Alex’s publisher had paid her two million dollars for her two new books, a million dollars each. The deal was done. And Alexander Green was safe, hopefully forever.
Chapter 11