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Kenny Arnett shook Natalie’s hand. “Did you think I’d leave this negotiation up to anyone else?”
Natalie shook her head, eyeing Diane through squinted lids before giving her editor a giant hug. “Playing hardball?” she whispered into Diane’s ear.
“No,” Diane whispered back. “Just bringing the man who signs the checks. And it’s going to be a very big one.”
“Come on in,” Natalie said, releasing her grip.
Kenny and Diane followed Natalie through the sprawling home, decorated to perfection as if Joanna Gaines herself had worked her magic. In the kitchen, a football-field-sized island covered by a slab of treated concrete stood in the middle. Natalie opened a tall wine refrigerator. “I have a Tamber Bey rosé that will be perfect for a hot summer day.”
“I hope it’s perfect for a celebration, as well,” Kenny said.
“You two are really laying it on thick,” Natalie said.
“We want you to know how much you mean to us,” Diane said.
“Let’s sit on the patio.”
Natalie placed three wineglasses and the bottle of rosé onto a tray and they all made their way to the back patio, which offered a magnificent view of Lake Norman and the rolling mountain landscape in the distance.
“Wow,” Kenny said as soon as he stepped foot outside.
Diane shook her head as she took in the scenery. “Every time I visit you, this view gets more stunning.”
“Thank you. We love it, and it never gets old for us, either.” Natalie poured the wine. “Don just had some of the trees trimmed back.”
“How is Don?” Kenny asked.
Natalie and Don Ratcliff were the definition of a power couple, dominating both the publishing and business worlds. Don was the heir apparent to Ratcliff International Cruise Lines—RICL, pronounced “Rickle” throughout the industry. Most cruise boat enthusiasts had taken a RICL cruise at some point, many were fanatics who cruised with no other company. The Ratcliffs were worth billions. Natalie had married into wealth, and then found her own fortune through publishing novels.
“Good,” Natalie said. “He’s actually commandeering this house for the Fourth of July weekend and bringing in his top salespeople as a perk or SPIF, or whatever you call it.”
“You sound thrilled,” Diane said.
“I don’t really care. As long as they clean the beer cans off the patio and no one vomits in the fountain. But I have to write, as you know. My deadline is approaching, so I’m heading back to the city, where it will be empty and quiet, to get some work done. That’s why I was surprised you made the trip down. I’ll be back in Manhattan Friday.”
“And miss this view?” Kenny said. “Plus, we didn’t want to wait until Friday. We want you to know that you’re our biggest priority. You’re family to us, Natalie, and we’re going to make sure you don’t go anywhere.”
“Diane gave me my start. Do you really think I’d go anywhere else?”
“We’re taking nothing for granted,” Kenny said.
“Hemingway is prepared to make an offer for the next five Peg Perugo novels,” Diane said. “We’ve sent a formal offer to your literary agent, but wanted to make sure the offer was in the ballpark of your expectations.”
“It exceeds them,” Natalie said, nodding her head. “My agent called this morning to discuss the details. I have a meeting planned with her next week.”
“If another house comes over the top of us,” Kenny said, “we just ask that you give us an opportunity to rework the deal. It obviously has to make sense for Hemingway, but we’ll move heaven and earth to keep you.”
“I’m really flattered you both made the trip down here,” Natalie said. “And I’m more than blown away by the offer and the effort. But I’m going to let you both in on a little secret. I told my agent not to entertain proposals from any other publishers. I’m one hundred percent satisfied at Hemingway, and Diane is a rock star. I’m not going anywhere.”
Kenny nodded his head slowly and pouted his bottom lip. “Well, that was easier than I imagined.”
“Now that that crap’s out of the way,” Diane said, “when do I get to see your manuscript?”
Natalie smiled. “When I’m finished with it. I have until October.”
“Maybe I should take a peek at the first hundred pages.”
“Not a chance,” Natalie said. “I’m wrapping up the first draft soon, and then heading to Santorini in September to polish it.”
