“Hi!” Raymond said with a smile.
Ben waved, grinning brightly. “Hi, Jolene! Long time no see!”
Jolene was stunned. She’d just moved to New York—how were these two brothers here too?
“Are you two visiting New York?” Jolene asked.
Raymond shook his head and glanced at the other readers in line. “Let’s have dinner together after you’re done.”
She saw that each brother was holding a copy of both books. Covering her mouth, she took Ben’s book with one hand. “Do you want Mr. Raymond’s signed too?”
“Yes, thank you, Ms. Jolene!” Ben giggled, mimicking her tone. “My brother says you’re a famous author!”
Jolene looked up at the young man standing straight with his book—strange. How did he even know?
She looked down, opened the cover of Ben’s new book, and wrote on the first page:
[To: The tall and handsome Mr. Ben Raymond—Wishing you happiness every day and good health! Your Jolene Bell.]
Ben took his signed book, read every word, and when he saw she’d called him “tall and handsome Mr. Ben Raymond,” he grinned so hard his eyes crinkled and his dimples deepened.
Jolene reached out and took the second novel from Raymond, opened it, and wrote:
[To: Mr. Hugh Raymond—Wishing you happiness every day!]
The two brothers stepped aside with their books, since there was still a long line behind them.
Jolene still didn’t know why they were here, but for now, she had to keep engaging with readers and leave a good impression.
“J. Lynne, I can’t believe you’re so young and a single mom! No wonder you could write that revenge story. I was shocked when I finished it—our Maria deserves so much better. She was an illustrator, and I want to be like her—not waste my life on some scumbag…”
“J. Lynne, it’s so great to meet my favorite author in person! Can I take a photo with you?”
“I almost missed out on the second book. I love your writing style—it just flows so effortlessly…”
Jolene interacted with each reader, answered questions, fulfilled small requests, and signed their books with personalized messages.
She hadn’t expected so many people to show up.
By 12 PM, the line was still long, but time was almost up. The marketing staff had to apologize and explain that the bookstore reservation was ending—Jolene wouldn’t have time to interact with everyone. The readers were disappointed but understanding, and left with their books.
After signing the last name, Jolene looked up and saw a stranger—a man glaring at her. Her gut told her she knew him, or at least should know him.
The only person she could think of was Brian—the editor she hadn’t been in touch with since she’d signed with Dell.
After all, in New York, she barely knew anyone. And only Brian would be angry about her signing with another publisher.
She hadn’t contacted him since signing with Dell—after all, he’d flatly rejected her request for better reprint royalties. 3% versus 9%—anyone would know which to choose. Jolene wasn’t about to waste her time.
“Hi!” Jolene raised her hand, greeting him first.
“Your second novel—you signed with Dell Publishing?” Brian was visibly angry, as if Jolene had betrayed him.
“Yes. Dell offered better terms and was willing to hold a signing for me.” Seeing the line was gone, Jolene stood up and faced him. He looked exactly as she’d imagined: metal-rimmed glasses, slightly receding hairline, round face, dark brown hair—the look of a desk-bound editor.
The man in front of her, around thirty-something, pushed up his glasses, his mouth turned down as if holding back anger. He glanced around, leaned forward with his hands on the table. “I asked you if you were writing a second book a few days ago, and you said no. Great—a few days later, you had one written and published! Let’s see how well your second one sells. What kind of marketing channels can a small publisher like Dell offer? Random House has partnerships with bookstores nationwide. Are you only thinking about short-term gains? You need to think long-term. You’re still too young!”
Jolene nodded. “I’m sorry. Maybe Random House is just too big, with too many authors. I prefer Dell—they specialize in popular fiction, which suits me better. I’m sorry to disappoint you. Maybe we can work together in the future.”
Seeing her relatively polite attitude, Brian eased his anger. In this industry, even if you couldn’t work together now, you might in the future—it wasn’t good to burn bridges.
Jolene felt the same way, though in her heart, she had no intention of working with Random House again. The conditions were too far apart, and the treatment of small authors was worlds apart. She knew which choice to make.
Brian across from her nodded. “Alright. For your third book, we’ll compete fairly with Dell. Give me a call when it’s ready.”
“Okay,” Jolene said, pressing her lips together, then added, “Actually, I’ve already started writing the third one. But I’m not sure it’ll get published—the theme is a bit heavy. It’s about alcoholism—more like a memoir. Maybe you wouldn’t be interested.”
Hearing that, Brian’s eyebrows shot up. He clearly hadn’t expected her to abandon revenge plots for some memoir about alcoholism. He lost interest instantly and said flatly, “If you come up with something more like that revenge theme later, feel free to bring it to me. I’ve been promoted—I can now decide what to publish on my own.”
Jolene nodded casually. “Sure, I will.”
Seeing her lukewarm response, Brian turned and left.
He’d happened to see the promotion for Jolene in the New York Times. When he discovered she’d published a second book with another publisher, he was stunned—he’d just asked her if she had anything new.
But then again, Brian had risen to group editor thanks to discovering The Ex-Wife’s Revenge and securing the contract at a rock-bottom price. So he wasn’t that upset after all.
After Brian left, Garden came over. “That was your editor for the first book?”
“Yes.” Jolene smiled faintly, then added, “I mentioned my third book—about alcoholism, something like a memoir. He wasn’t interested and walked off. Do you think that theme has a chance?”
Garden frowned, thought for a moment, then ventured, “Maybe the female lead is also a single mom?”
“How did you know?” Jolene covered her mouth in surprise.
“Haha, I can basically see how your mind works. You’ve got great market instincts—and your fast-paced style is so satisfying to read. It’s very different from traditional literature. I’m sure the alcoholism theme will be a fresh twist while still keeping your existing readers. And I’m guessing you came across these issues recently—maybe you want to help people struggling with alcohol. That’s great. Literary works with real social meaning stand out…”
Jolene stared at him, dumbfounded. This guy was practically psychic—he understood her completely.
“You nailed it. I was actually an alcoholic for two years. I attended a support group in San Francisco and met a lot of fellow recovering alcoholics. I saw their struggles firsthand. And here’s the crazy part—one of my friends actually quit drinking after reading The Ex-Wife’s Revenge.”
Now it was Garden’s turn to look shocked.
Jolene raised an eyebrow, a little proud. Her novel had helped one single mom get revenge and helped another quit drinking—pretty impressive.
Right, Norma!
Jolene suddenly remembered that Raymond and Ben had come looking for her earlier and said they’d have lunch together. But it’d been two hours—were they still here?
She searched around but couldn’t find them. Not having a cell phone was such a hassle—she couldn’t just wait forever.
Oh well—maybe they’d left. She shook her head and started walking out of the bookstore with Garden.
“Jolene!” Ben’s voice came from behind.
Jolene spun around and saw the two brothers walking down the stairs from the second floor.
“So you’re still here!” she said with a smile.
She introduced Garden: “This is my former employer, Mr. Raymond—remember, I mentioned I worked as a live-in nanny?”
Then to Raymond: “This is my editor, Garden Hall.”
The two men exchanged greetings.
Ben, however, was glaring at Garden with dissatisfaction. He looked up as the adults shook hands.
“Jolene, didn’t you say we’d have lunch together? How come you were leaving with this guy?” Ben huffed.
Jolene crouched down to his eye level. “I thought you’d already left. And I don’t have a cell phone, so I couldn’t reach you.”
Mobile phones existed now—flip phones from Motorola and Nokia were around, retailing for about $400. The phone itself was affordable if you pinched pennies; what was expensive was the service—basic plans cost about $50 a month for 300–600 minutes. And that was every month.
Just thinking about it made Jolene wince. Everywhere she turned, money was flying out the door…
“Okay, since you’re done now, let’s go eat,” Ben said, pouting.
Jolene excused herself from Garden, and the three of them headed off for lunch.
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