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“Why hasn’t anyone stolen you away from Jessica?” asked Barbie.
“I would never leave her unless she wanted me to go.”
“Never,” stated Jessica firmly. “Tracer and I would be lost without you.” She almost included Thorn but worried that he might feel as if he was being pressured.
He joined her at the island, kissed her temple, and said simply, “Me, too.”
The smile on Sudie’s face had enough wattage to power the entire state of Maine. It was good to know that she welcomed Thorn as a part of their family. Glancing down, Jessica noticed Tracer had made himself comfortable and had managed to lie on Thorn’s foot as he rested his head on hers.
“Selma and I are going upstairs to get our things unpacked. I’m not sure about her, but I think I might lie down for a little nap,” Barbie said.
Selma sighed. “A nap. I think I’ll join you. I don’t know when I had my last good night’s sleep.” She followed Barbie to the door but stopped and turned to face Jessica and Thorn. “I’m sorry about how I behaved in my office. I’ve been living with fear for a long time and when I heard about Thompson’s murder, it terrified me. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive, Selma. As someone earlier in the day pointed out, none of us are perfect.”
“That’s not true, Jessica. Just ask Tracer; he is convinced you are perfect.”
Thorn laughed. “He’s not the only one.”
Jessica hopped off the counter stool, took Thorn by the hand and led him toward her office. “We need to talk. There are some things you need to know before we get in much deeper with each other. I probably should have said something before now…”
“Babe, there wasn’t much before now. We’ve been moving at light speed, which I am comfortable with. If you’re not…”
She shook her head. “It’s not that at all,” she said, taking him into her office and closing the door. “I just don’t want to get further down the road without having told you. Every time I think to tell you, something else comes up.”
Taking her by the hand, he moved to the leather wingback and pulled her into his lap. “So tell me now. I’m all ears.”
She took a deep breath. “When I first started writing, I thought the way to go was with a publisher. I couldn’t even get any of the major publishers to look at me so I found a smaller, niche publisher and signed a contract that I thought I understood and didn’t have a lawyer review. To call the publisher predatory would be kind.”
“I don’t think that is all that uncommon to those new in the field.”
“Precisely. Bloody Quill’s contract, that I signed with no duress from them, gave me a publishing schedule. I didn’t think much of it, as I wrote quickly. What I failed to notice or comprehend was that if I missed a deadline, I would pay a penalty of three hundred dollars a day, not be paid my advance, and that after thirty days, they would deduct the penalty from any other books. If I forfeited or did not correct the default within thirty days of its occurrence, they would have permanent rights to sixty percent of all my royalties on books with them.”
Thorn whistled. “Holy shit.”
“Exactly. I had a deadline looming, was sick and thought I could trust the editor to whom they’d assigned me. She agreed for an astronomical sum to ‘ghostwrite’ the book for me and never tell anyone. I thought it was fine until I found that she’d plagiarized parts of it from my previous books.”
“Is that even plagiarism?”
“Depends on who you ask. I hired a lawyer, who was able to get the book taken down and negotiated a deal to get me out of the contract with Bloody Quill. I was pretty wiped out financially, and my reputation took a hit. I hired a public relations firm and we managed to salvage my career. It took me some time to get back to where I was. It’s the reason I am so passionate with new authors about reading and understanding contracts, researching publishers, being conservative about who you trust and allow into your inner circle, and only hiring reputable sources. I learned my lesson.”
“So Martin was making veiled threats.”
“He thought he was, but it was a long time ago, and I’ve been pretty transparent about what happened and what I did. A lot of other authors—even some big names—came forward to say either the same thing had happened to them or they could easily see how they could have fallen into the same trap.”
“Okay, I have a confession to make.”
“Let me guess, you cheated on one of your Eagle Scout merit badges.”
“Close. After Kennebunkport, I started reading your novels…”
“You told me that.”
He nodded. “What I didn’t tell you was I started doing a lot of research and even paid to have a background check run on you.”
She twisted in his lap and pushed against his chest with both hands. “You knew. You knew and you didn’t say something?”
“I figured you’d get around to it. I also greatly admired how you handled it—no excuses, taking responsibility for what happened. Keep in mind what you did was not a crime; I checked. I understand lots of big-name writers hire ghostwriters.”
