Ugly(129)

Huh. I walk into Peter’s office, and he’s standing by his large window looking down at the floor. “Peter, am I interrupting?”

He turns on his heels and looks at me. “Not at all. Please come in.”

“I won’t take long. Um, this is going to sound strange, but I got an email from a publishing company who wants me to call them. Would you mind if I use Dale’s office and do so? I know Dale’s not here today, but I’d like for you to okay it first.”

“Of course, go ahead.” He flicks his hand at me as he says ‘go ahead.’

I walk down to Dale’s office, with the number and the name of the woman I’m to ask for, close the door and sit at his desk. I’m not entirely sure what’s happening, but I’m so nervous. My heart’s beating quickly and my hands are shaking. I feel as if I’m in trouble, though I know I’m not.

A lady answers the phone with the company name. “Hello, may I speak with Jolene Grace?” I ask.

“May I ask whose calling?” she sounds so proper and snooty.

“My name is Lily Richards. She’s waiting for my call.” My voice sounds fragile, like I’m waiting to be reprimanded for something.

“Ah, yes Ms. Richards. Jolene is waiting. I’ll just put you through.”

Holy crap, I am in trouble. If I hang up now, then she can’t yell at me. Snap out of it, Lily.

“Lily Richards, it’s an absolute pleasure to finally be able to talk to you.”

“It is?” Suddenly the butterflies in my stomach disappear and I look around the office, searching for I don’t know what.

“You, young lady have been a hot, hot topic of late.”

“I have?” I nervously tap my finger on the desk.

“Oh my God, yes. We’re all very interested in meeting you.”

“You are?” Why am I answering everything she says with a question?

“We are. And I’d like to personally invite you to the offices here in New York. All expenses paid, for a weekend.”

“Why?”

Jolene laughs into the phone, but I’m more confused now than I was when I first received her email.

“We’ve been tracking a few authors, and we’ve noticed these authors all have one thing in common – you. You see, we’ve signed two of your clients, and we’ve spoken with three others. When we asked them who does their proofreading, they answered with the same name, yours. Then we asked them who edits their books, and all of them said you. You do everything, which in-house we call a big picture editor. We have proofreaders, we have editors, but we need more. And your name keeps popping up.”

“I don’t have any formal education, though. And really it’s the author who does all the work.”

“Oh yes, I agree. But here’s the thing, the author can have the best story in the world, but if it’s not proofread and edited correctly, they’ll be forgotten quite quickly. An editor polishes it and makes the story shine, makes it stand out, and makes it easy for people to remember it. You are crucial to readers suffering book hangovers.”

“I do that?”

“The authors you’ve been working with are incredibly talented, but you my friend, also add a lot of punch to their words. And for that, we’d like to fly you here, from wherever you are in the country or the world, and have a chat with you about working for us.”

Is it wrong that I want to jump up and down and scream with happiness? Maybe, but I’ll be doing it once I hang up. I’ve heard of big corporations head hunting the best in their industry, offering them ridiculous payments and incentives to work for them. But I’m just me. “Aha,” I say way too happy to be able to form a comprehensive sentence.

“Can I make the arrangements for you? Say next weekend?”

“Um, I um. Um.” Crap, what do I say? “Can I think about it, and let you know tomorrow?”

“Lily, I look forward to your call.”

“Thank you.” We hang up, and I sit back in Dale’s chair, looking around the office as if the most surreal thing just happened. I suppose it is the most bizarre thing to happen to me.

Me. I’ve been headhunted! I can’t believe it. Finally, once the phone call actually sinks in, I walk back to my desk in a dreamlike state. “Lily,” Peter calls me in. When I’m at his door, he drags his eyes over me and furrows his brows together. “Everything alright?” he asks.

“I’m really not sure. It was freakish and unreal, but euphoric, too.”

“What happened?” he asks concerned.

“I think I’m being headhunted by a publishing company.”