Page 60 of The Lie Maker

I hadn’t heard from her in a while and was starting to wonder whether something was wrong. I put in a call, got her voice mail, and left a message.

“It’s me. Seems like ages. Give me a call.”

I went back to clearing out emails and saw that one had just landed from Ann Finley, the editor on my two published novels, who had taken a pass on my third.

It read:

Dear Jack:

Hope this finds you well. I miss our lunches at the Beekman! Just wanted to let you know, in case you want to spread the word on your socials, that both books are going to be daily deals on Amazon next week. Randy will send you the links, if interested.

Sorry we couldn’t work a deal on your new one, which I very much enjoyed. I don’t know where you ended up placing it—I wish we’d been given a chance to beat whoever made the winning offer—but I wish you every success with it. Who knows, this might be the one.

Best

Ann

I read the email a second time, and then a third. Ann had liked my third book? Ann had made an offer on my third book? Ann was under the impression another publishing house had bought the book?

I picked up my phone, brought up Harry Breedlove’s number, tapped it, and put the phone to my ear. My former agent’s phone rang five times before sending me to voice mail.

“You’ve reached Harry Breedlove. I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now. Please leave a message.”

And then the beep.

“Harry, Jack here. Just got an interesting email from Ann Finley I’d like to discuss with you. When you get a moment, maybe you could get back to me and tell me what the fuck is going on?”

If Harry couldn’t be reached by phone, I’d try an email. I banged one off on the laptop and sent it.

The son of a bitch.

Why would Harry say Ann had turned the book down? Was it because he thought the other opportunity—the one that came by way of that phone he handed me—was better? Even if that were true, wasn’t it my choice to make?

And then it hit me.

I picked up the hotline to Gwen.

“Give me time,” she said without saying hello. “I only just started reading it.”

“Was it you?” I asked.

“Was what me?”

“Did you pressure Harry to tell me he couldn’t sell my book so I’d have no choice but to accept your offer?”

Silence on the other end for a couple of seconds, and then, “What?”

“You heard me. I know you talked to Harry. You, or one of your people. You gave him this fucking phone. Is that when you leaned on him to sabotage my book?”

“Jack, listen to me, and listen very carefully. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you, I had plenty of other authors I was considering for this job, plenty who are already doing it. If you’d said no, I had plenty of other talent to turn to. You’re not as special as you think you are.”

I went quiet for a moment, then said, “Something doesn’t add up.”

“What did Harry say?”

“I left a message. I’ll go to New York and hunt him down if I have to.”

“Fine, but if you do, not a word about the work you’re doing for us. Is that clear? We gave Harry the phone to give to you, but we didn’t go into detail about what we had in mind for you.”