I laugh. I’ve heard Gran say those very sentiments to Mom on so many occasions. ‘Just whatdoesa stuck pig look like?’ I could visit the pig farm, but for safety reasons I’d rather not.
‘Who knows!’
After chatting a few more minutes, I promise to l keep her in the loop and we say our goodbyes. Once we hang up, I open up the email app on my phone to see if I’ve had any progress on the job front. There’s an email from documentary maker Val. I manage my expectations by giving myself a pep talk. If it’s a no, it wasn’t meant to be. But if it’s a yes, then I’ll celebrate.
Evie,
Sorry, the position has been filled. We’ll keep your details in case anything else comes up.
Best,
Val
Val gets top marks for a concise email. But for once, I didn’t want an abrupt response. It’s OK; it wasn’t the role for me. But I’m bummed that I didn’t even get to the interview stage. It shows how quickly book scout jobs get snapped up.
Who else can I contact? Yet again I rue the fact I’m not a sauntering peopler who collects business cards and stashes them away like they’re precious diamonds. You live and learn.
The only other person I can think of is Gene. But he’s retired. Really, I should leave the man in peace. At his going-away party (which I attended because I actually like the guy and thus faced my fears and attended, spending most of the night fetching drinks for people I don’t know) his wife Betsy reminded us all in no uncertain terms he was out of the biz for good and to leave him well enough alone. She said she’d been competing with his first love her whole marriage – the film world – and now it was her turn.
So, dare I contact him and possibly face Betsy’s wrath? Probably not. That sounds like the kind of thing that could backfire and lead to a messy confrontation. Instead I scroll the job ads and find an editorial position with a big five. Do I want to go back into publishing? I have the sense that if I do, I’ll never find my way back to being a book scout and I’m not ready to give up that dream just yet. Instead, I click back on Val’s email and send a reply thanking him for his consideration and then I do the unthinkable. I ask if he knows of any book scout jobs going or anyone I could contact, offering to ‘jump on a call’ with him, them, anyone.
Everyone in Hollyweird is always ‘jumping on a call’, which is a nightmare of epic proportions for me, but at this stage I’m willing to try, even though we could just as successfully jump on an email.
That done, I head back to Gran in the bookshop whose specs rest on the bridge of her nose while she enters invoices into the computer. ‘There’s always another bill to pay.’
I dither with asking her who she was talking to, but she doesn’t seem in the mood for my probing into her life. I sit beside Gran, picking up the stack of mail she’s opened and flick through them. Some have big red overdue stamps that scream in protest on the paper. ‘What do we start with first? Rent, trades or these? We do have a small income coming from the bookshop, already. I’ve been tallying the sales and we are seeing small increases day by day, but the invoices keep coming. Set-up costs are high, but I figure we’re almost there in terms of stock and renovations. All we’ve got to factor in now are the launch party costs.
‘These invoices first, otherwise we won’t be able to replenish stock once we’ve sold it. Then trades, then rent. I’m sure with you wooing Georgios that will buy us some time on that front.’
‘What else can I do to help, Gran?’
She leans over and gives my hand a pat. ‘You’re already helping me so much, Evie. If we can get the invites done for the Epeolatry launch that means we’re one step closer to hosting the launch of the century in Santorini.’
‘Sure. They’re almost done; they only need a final polish. Georgios is coming by again tomorrow. We’ve got our invite list done and once the invitations are finished we’ll get them sent. That’ll free us up to work on a marketing plan to help spread the word.’
‘Georgios is coming over again soon? Just like that? I knew he’d fall for you. Who wouldn’t?’ She’s completely overlooked the party prep and moved straight to Georgios. She’s incorrigible when it comes to men!
‘Well, it’s early days, and obviously it’s not real.’ I don’t dare tell her about our stolen kisses. She’ll make a huge deal about that and then I’d have to tell her Yannis is thinking of selling, hence why I’ve upped the ante and broken my own set-in-stone dating rules.
A woman of her vintage does not need that sort of stress. And truthfully, I’m confused about it all. Why does my soul feel deliciously ignited when our lips touch? I’m supposed to be faking this, not having real-lifefeelings. It’s confusing, and I put it down to the fact I’m behaving so out of character. It’s almost like I’m being swept up in my own lies and muddling the truth. ‘We’re mainly bonding over books and this place. He’s a word nerd too.’
‘I know, darling. I follow him on Goodreads. Eclectic taste, which is always good in my eyes. Shame about him getting fired.’
Ooh trust Gran to have the juicy gossip. ‘What happened? What was the scandal about?’ Lily dawdles in and sits on the rug at Gran’s feet.
‘Adam Flynn. Thriller writer and mentor to debut authors.’
‘Wow, I’ve heard about this. He was the author who stole his wife’s work and passed it off as his own?’
‘That’s him. Not only his wife’s Izzie’s work either. He “restructured” a first draft of a submission and claimed it was his.. By chance Georgios also happened to have read the unpublished author’s work as part of a project to find underrepresented voices and recognised it when Adam Flynn passed it off as his own.’
‘But how …? Did Adam Flynn presume the unpublished author wouldn’t notice when his own book was a global bestseller with someone else’s name on it?’
Gran shakes her head. ‘Word is that Adam had been desperate. Izzie had finally left him so he couldn’t persuade her to write his books anymore. If Georgios hadn’t spoken up with his suspicions, it makes you wonder if Adam would have gotten away with it. Who would listen to an unpublished author claiming a global juggernaut had stolen this work?’
My eyebrows are up somewhere near my hairline. ‘So it was Georgios who blew the whistle and started the whole investigation?’
‘Yes. And he paid the price for it, even though he did the right thing.’
