#Score (40 page)

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Authors: Kerrigan Grant

BOOK: #Score
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A
cross
from me my friend Brooke smirks, slowly shaking her head. As soon as Jeffrey and everyone else is looking up to the front, I stick my tongue out at her.

"
I
ceberg Publishing has been approached
by the manager of the San Francisco Mammoths, for the biggest baseball player in the world right now, Calvin Lundgren. We've been asked to write Mr. Lundgren's memoir, which of course gets directed to us here in the ghost writing division," Jeffrey explains, watching everyone's reactions.

I
know absolutely
nothing about sports, baseball in particular. Words and writing are my meat and potatoes, and I can always get lost in a good book, but sports? Not really my thing. Everyone else around me though, seems to be pretty damn excited.

"
C
al Lundgren
? MVP player of the year?" Dante, one of my coworkers pipes up. "That guy is worth millions."

"
H
im
and
his brother
, from what I've heard. Plus they got that cousin… The guy who plays for the Cougars?" Another person says.

"
I
would just like
to make it aware that I personally know quite a bit about Calvin Lundgren," Brooke says as she flips her hair over her thin shoulder. "I've been a huge baseball fan since I was a little kid, and Jeffrey, if you need someone who can pay personal
close
attention to Mr. Lundgren, I'm your girl."

E
veryone starts talking
all at once, and I sit back, completely confused. Who is this guy and why am I the only one who's been apparently living under a rock? If there's one thing I know, it's people. I've always prided myself on keeping up with the times, but I've never even heard of the guy.

J
effrey motions
for everybody to calm down. "Okay people, okay. I get it, this is a big deal. Hence the reason for the meeting in the middle of the month instead of the end. Look, we really need this to work in our favor. We've had few good memoirs put out this year so far, but I know everyone at the top is really looking for bigger hits. And this will be the biggest yet," he says as he looks around the room. "Not only will it be a big deal for the company, but it'll be a big deal for you, too. The powers that be have decided to up the ante on the ghost writing rate for this particular manuscript."

E
ven I have
to lean in closely, curious about the money if anything else.

"
I
t's not
in my usual repertoire to publicly announce the flat rate for this project, but I think that everyone here would find it of great interest. I've been told this project has a flat rate of fifty-thousand dollars."

T
he room explodes with sound
, everyone gasping, some people whistling, some others yelling out loud. Adam even falls out of his chair, his eyes about to bulge out of his head.

I
can't believe it
— $50,000? I don't think I remember hearing about a project priced that high before. I've done several different smaller memoirs since I began working for Iceberg Publishing, but this is insane. Immediately I pull out my notebook and start scratching across the top everything Jeffrey relays to us once everyone calms down a bit.

"
N
ow
, the reason why I am telling everyone about this project even though we've actually already picked the author to handle it, is because we want to inspire everyone here. This person that we've picked has worked on several projects for us over the past few years, has their own personality when it comes to their writing that really shines through, and we want everyone to work hard to stand out like this person has. With this kind of contract we’ll be seeing bigger names looking to us. Who knows what other kind of celebrities will want their autobiography done? My point here is that we at Iceberg want everyone to come to us. And I think the person who can start us off in the right direction is sitting right here today."

Jeffrey holds up a manila file folder for everyone to see. "The contract for this manuscript is inside this folder. And I would like to present this to Olivia Carter."

I
hear
my name being said, and I see everyone turning to face me with different expressions on their faces, but it's like I really don't hear him, because none of it is registering in my brain. Adam nudges me hard this time, hissing at me to stand up. I push out from the huge conference table and slowly stand, only now realizing just what's happening.

"
L
ike I said
, Olivia, we've chosen you because we think you would do the project a great service. What do you think?"

W
hat do I think
? I think... that fifty-thousand dollars would be enough money to finally pay off all of my student loans and still leave me enough money to keep paying for my rent. That's what I think, but I don't say that out loud. "Thank you, Jeffrey. I am seriously honored to be chosen to help represent Mr. Lundgren's book."

"
A
nd to represent
that $50k, though!" Dante shouts, encouraging everyone to cheer me on. The conference room is lit up with noise again, Adam reaching over to pull me into a tight hug, Malia smiling at me from next to Jeffrey, and Jeffrey himself giving me a knowing smile. I know he had a hand to play in this, especially since tons of people in the office seem to think I’m his favorite for some reason. I don't play office politics though, I’m genuinely trying to do my best, and for once in my life it's actually paying off.

* * *

"
I
mean did
you see the way everyone looked at you? It's like you're a freaking goddess, baby!" Adam says as he intertwines his arm with mine while we make our way back to the cubicles. "I feel like I'm the best friend of a rock star or something around here."

"
P
ssh
, you better be careful before you let all that get to Miss Goody Two-Shoes' head," Malia teases, leaning against the flimsy gray wall, sending all four of my different bobble-heads bouncing along.

I
take a seat
, spinning around to face them with a huge grin on my face. Being on cloud nine is only the beginning for me. Next comes my favorite part--the actual work. "I still can't believe this is happening, you guys. Nothing like this happens to me, like ever."

"
A
nd to think
, Cal Lundgren. Holy hell that is one hot piece of ass."

"
A
dam
! That's not the way to think about our client," I reply. The number one rule in publishing is to keep it professional no matter what.

M
alia lifts an eyebrow at me
. "Have you ever
seen
a picture of him?"

I
shrug
because it hardly matters. "No."

T
hey turn
to each other and push past me, scrambling for control over my laptop.

M
alia wins
, and quickly types Calvin Lundgren into the search engine. Photo after photo pops up of my newest client.

O
h wow
. Oh
wow
...at first glance you see he's an attractive young guy, mid-twenties, rocking a perfect baseball body with thick, muscular arms and the kind of butt most white boys don't possess. But when you closer there's this intensity to him that nearly burns your eyes. I've never seen anything like it, and that's only through a photo. His dark eyes draw me in and don't seem to want to let go.

"
Y
eah
. That's who you're going to be working with, lucky duck. I'll make sure to send you a pair of my good boxers for him to sign, okay?"

B
oth Adam and Malia giggle
, but I can't stop staring at Cal Lundgren's pictures. They say something to me and I wave them off, until the two of them finally go back to their own cubicles and leave me to my research.

I
grab
my notebook from my small backpack, writing everything on my to-do list. There's the contract to sign, plus I have to make my schedule and get Mr. Lundgren's information so I can work with him from there...

B
rooke walks around the corner
, giving me a little wave. "Hey, I just wanted to drop by and say congratulations to you." Her voice is a bit higher than usual, but I'm sure it's just because she has been waiting for a big project like this to pop up. The smile on her face is wider than normal, making me feel sort of bad.

"
T
hanks
, Brooke. I appreciate it."

"
A
nd listen
, let me know if I can help in any way. Like I said in the conference room, I'm the Mammoth's biggest fan, Cal Lundgren, especially. I've been watching him play since he was first drafted. I know all of his stats, everything. My family's home isn't too far down from his, so I see him every now and then when I go visit them." She bounces up on her toes, smiling at me too wide again.

A
s much as
I would truly appreciate her help, I know that if I want to do the job right, I need to rely on myself only. "That's really sweet of you. If I can think of anything, I'll let you know. Maybe I can get him to sign something for you. I'll tell him
'I work with the biggest Cal Lundgren fan, ever. Plus she's beautiful and sweet, too. You should meet her.
' How about that?" My grin cuts across my face with playful ease.

T
here's a beat
, and then Brooke smiles too, although it doesn't quite meet her eyes. "Sure thing. I'll leave you to it, then." And she's turning the corner of my cubicle, her eyes straight ahead.

B
rooke is usually
in a better mood than this, but I guess I'd be disappointed too if I didn't get the contract to work with someone I idolized.

* * *

I
check
my phone for the third time, looking back and forth between the address on it and the giant mansion I've just pulled up alongside. All the place is missing are some of those fancy gate doors to lead into the intricate long driveway.

S
wallowing
against the rising lump in my throat, I double check my reflection in the rearview. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to go natural or bright and cheerful, so I tried to do both. My bright pink lip-gloss contrasts nicely to my light brown complexion, but I kept my eye makeup to a minimum. I rub a spot of extra powder off of my nose and check my teeth. Thank god I decided to go with the sandwich instead of the salad at lunch or I'd be picking spinach from my teeth right about now...

M
aking
sure my natural curls are clipped away from my face, I adjust my earrings and smile nervously at myself. Now is not the time to be freaking out.

T
he driveway is even longer
when you walk along it, and my feet are nearly aching when I get to the large, ornate front door.
Why in the world did I decide to wear heels today, of all days?
I let out a long breath and pasting on another smile, I ring the doorbell.

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