Envy(56)

Chapter 12


Maris’s call came at an inopportune time, but Noah figured he had better take it to avoid her becoming suspicious. Even though he had a meeting scheduled in ten minutes, he asked his assistant to put her call through. “Darling! I’m so glad to hear from you.”

“It’s nice to finally talk to you, too,” she said. “It’s been so long, your voice sounds strange.”

“Strange?”

“My ears have become attuned to a southern drawl.”

“God help you.”

“Even worse, I’ve actually slipped and said ‘y’all’ a few times, and I’ve acquired a taste for grits. The secret is lots of salt and pepper and drenching them in butter.”

“Keep packing down a diet like that and you’ll return to me fat.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do. What the southerners don’t cook in butter, they cook in bacon grease, and it’s all delicious. Have you ever had fried green tomatoes?”

“Like the movie title?”

“And the book. Both named after the real thing. Dredged in cornmeal, fried in bacon grease, they’re scrumptious. Mike taught me how to make them.”

“The author extraordinaire also cooks?”

“Mike’s not the author. He’s… well, Mike does just about everything around here except the writing.”

Noah checked the sterling Tiffany clock on his desk and wondered when he could gracefully break this off. “Is the book coming along? How’s it working out with the author?”

“He’s talented, Noah. He’s also opinionated, difficult at times, and impossible at others. But he’s a challenge I can’t resist.”

“So the trip has been productive?”

“Yes. And unless there’s something that requires me to come home, I’m going to stay here through the weekend and spoon-feed him constructive criticism and encouragement. There’s no reason for me to rush back, is there?”

“Besides my missing you, no.”

“Your missing me is no small thing.”

“I wouldn’t selfishly have you return strictly on my account. I can tell by the enthusiasm in your voice that you’re enjoying being a hands-on editor again.”

“Very much. Are you writing?”

“When I can. I’ve been busy going over second-quarter reports, but I’ve managed to put in a couple hours writing each evening.” After a short pause, he asked, “You aren’t going to start nagging me about my output, are you?”

“I wouldn’t call it nagging.”

“Just remember it’s a part-time job, Maris. It can’t take precedence over my responsibilities here.”

“I understand. It’s just that I’m eager to read something new by my favorite author.”

“Don’t hold your breath. It might take a while and the process can’t be rushed.”

“Has your idea gelled?”

“It’s getting there,” he replied evasively.

“Whatever you write will be well worth the wait.”

“If you’ve got that much time for leisure reading, we’re not keeping you busy enough.”

“No worry there,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve got my hands full with this project, in addition to the other manuscripts coming due in the next few months. I’ll be editing in my sleep.”

He liked the sound of that. If she was distracted by work, he’d be freer to devote more time to finalizing his deal with WorldView. He was feeling the pressure of the deadline unexpectedly set by Morris Blume. While it was uncomfortably compressing, he welcomed having a definite goal, a finish line toward which to make a final push.

He wasn’t panicked, but he definitely experienced an adrenaline rush every time he thought about it. He was confident he would meet the deadline. If for any reason he didn’t, he was equally confident that he could persuade Blume to extend it. The CEO coveted Matherly Press too much to relinquish it over a matter of days.

Meanwhile, this was a perfect time for Maris to be out of town. Her absence made it more convenient for him to manipulate Daniel. The old man had to be carefully finessed. Subtlety was key. Hit Daniel over the head with something, and he would fight it to his dying breath. Stroke him lightly, and his mind could be changed. Perhaps not as easily as most, but Noah didn’t doubt his ability to eventually whittle down all of his father-in-law’s objections to a merger.

Maris’s absence also allowed him more time with Nadia. She could be a harpy if she was unhappy, and she was unhappiest when deprived of the time and attention she felt she deserved.

“I can’t wait for you to read this book, Noah,” Maris said, drawing him back into their conversation.

What had she been talking about for the last few minutes? Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t retained a word of what she’d said. He couldn’t see that his inattention mattered much.

“The author hasn’t shared with me the whole plot,” she went on, “but I think it’s going to be good.”

“If you think it’s going to be good, then it will be. Listen, darling, I hate to cut short our conversation, but I’m due down the hall in two minutes.”

“So what else is new?” She posed the question tongue-in-cheek and without rancor. Their exchanges during work hours were typically brief.