The Agency (33 page)

“What?”

“It’s not personal.”

I blinked and had no idea what was going on.

That was when Cosima smiled, the way a shark probably smiles as it gets ready to feast on your leg.

“You’re sacked, Tess,” she said.

I REALLY WISHED
that I had visited the loo first.

“Excuse me?” I blurted out.

“You heard me.”

Yes, I had, but I couldn’t believe it. Was this her little game? Her way to sabotage me in the press? You can’t quit, Tess, I’ll sack you first. I expected to see Donald Trump bolt from the closet and bark, “You’re fired!” as if this were some kind of reality television show.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I demanded.

Cosima reacted with Zenlike calm. “I’ll miss that obscene little mouth around here. Really, I will. You’re always so entertaining. Like that titillating photo of you in the tabloids today. So emblematic of your taste and style.”

“Fuck you,” I said.

“There you go again. I love your coarseness. What a shame it doesn’t fit with the new direction of our agency.”

“I quit,” I said, about fifteen seconds too late.

Cosima laughed. “You don’t get it, Tess, do you? That’s too bad.
I’m very busy, so I’d appreciate it if you could pack your things as rapidly as possible and vacate the premises. You can give me your key to the building right now. No offense, but I’ve asked a security guard to assist you as you gather your personal effects. Can’t have you nicking the staplers, can we?”

I was dazed. Cosima knew it. She had landed a body blow, and I could see icy glee glowing behind her starchy skin. I wilted into the uncomfortable guest chair and squirmed.

“You knew I was going to resign,” I said.

“Your plans aren’t of much interest to me, Tess. However, my advice would be that you pursue a new career, because I believe you’ll find that most of the doors in the industry are closed to you now. Perhaps you can parlay your recent fame into some exciting job opportunities. Maybe Britney Spears is looking for a new publicist for her upskirt photos.”

She smiled wickedly.

I realized I was playing her game. Letting her rattle me. This was Cosima indulging in psychological warfare, because it was the only option open to her. Bragging to the world that she had sacked me didn’t change a thing. The result was the same. When I walked out of her office, I would be free.

“Tell the papers whatever the hell you want,” I snapped. “We can both spin it our way and see who wins.”

“The game is already over. You lose.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

Cosima clucked her tongue in sad dismay. “I’ve always found hollow boasting to be particularly pathetic. It really doesn’t suit you, Tess. The fact is, I warned you not to get in my way. I gave you a fair chance to make the right choice. You could have been a partner here.”

“And live in your pocket like Marty and Jack? No thanks.”

Cosima’s razorlike smile evaporated. “Exactly what do you know about Jack and me?”

That was a mistake.

I had been careful never to mention Jack’s name around Cosima, and this was the wrong time to bring it up. As much as I wanted to
throw it in her face, I couldn’t do that to Jack. Even so, I wondered if it was too late, if she already knew. I tried to read her face to see if her desire to destroy me was really payback for my affair.

“I have two eyes, Cosima. I can see that the men around you walk funny. Like you’ve got their balls locked up for safekeeping.”

Cosima restored the veneer of politeness to her face. She picked up her red pen again and reached for her half-frame glasses, ignoring me. “That will be all, Tess.”

I fired back. “All? I don’t think so. I haven’t even begun. Clients aren’t your chattel. They can go wherever they please. I’ve talked to every one of my clients in the past week, and they’re all prepared to bolt from Bardwright and sign on with me.”

“Clients,” Cosima replied, nodding. “Yes, I suppose we should have that discussion now. You’ll be contacted by our counsel, of course, but it’s better if we’re clear about this from the outset. I wouldn’t want you to put yourself in any legal jeopardy in the next few days.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m warning you explicitly not to contact any of the agency clients. Anything you say, or any incentives you offer, would almost certainly constitute a trade secret violation based on inside knowledge you’ve obtained as an employee of Bardwright. I don’t like to pile it on, Tess, and I know you’ll be struggling financially anyway, so you don’t need a legal judgment against you to add to your woes.”

“They’re my clients,” I insisted. “I recruited them. You can’t tell me not to call them. You’re crazy.”

“If they were, in fact, your clients, that might be true,” Cosima said. “But they’re not. They’re Bardwright clients.”

“Not if they choose to leave.”

“True, but they already chose to stay. They’re represented by Bardwright now, not you.”

“Excuse me?”

Cosima reached with obvious delight for another file folder on her desk. When she opened it, I saw at least two dozen pieces of paper neatly stacked inside. Without reading them, I could see that they were letters. Signed letters.

My heart sank.

“These are agency representation letters, Tess. As you’ll see, they are all endorsed as of this weekend. I’ll go through them with you one by one, so there’s no misunderstanding, all right?”

She took the first letter off the stack. “Thomas Alcock.”

My client. Former coach of the British World Cup team.

“Migdalia Vasquez.”

My client. Investigative journalist.

“Dingo Dave Dressner.”

My client. Radio disc jockey.

“Jean Paul Consaire.”

My client. Chef and restaurant owner.

“Michael O’Neill.”

My client. Actor.

“Anne Thompson.”

My client. Novelist and member of Parliament.

And on and on it went. Name by name, she eviscerated my roster of clients. I tried very hard not to cry, and I cried anyway. I couldn’t help myself. These were people I had called and e-mailed within the last five days, people who had sworn to me that they were with me, behind me, ready to stand at my side. People I had discovered. People I had made rich. People I called friends. And every one of them had signed the same boilerplate letter, formally assigning their representation to the Bardwright Agency and walking away from me.

Cosima continued until she had laid nearly thirty letters in front of me. They constituted the bulk of client relationships I had spent the past ten years building. The heart and soul of my business.

I understood now why no one was calling or writing me back. No one had the guts to say it to my face. Welcome to the Drake Media Agency, everyone. The agency with no clients.

I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t shattered.

“How?” I asked.

“Oh, please, Tess. Clients are neurotic little things—you know that. Scared of their own shadows.”

“What did you do? Threaten them?”

Cosima tut-tutted me as if I were a child. “I don’t need to threaten anyone. There’s no need to be so dramatic. The simple truth is that no one wants to join a losing team, Tess. They stick with winners. They want to be represented by an agency that has influence.”

“Impossible. These people were ready to join me. They told me so.”

“Well, they may have said that to spare your feelings. I understand. But clients are creatures of self-interest. You know that as well as I do. Who wants to worry about whether their next publishing contract will be renewed? Who wants to worry about being blackballed? Not that I would suggest anything of the kind, but if people get it in their heads, they may get a little scared of the consequences. And fifteen percent is a lot to pay an agent, too. Ten percent is so much more attractive. You’d be amazed, Tess, at how many clients will sell you out for five percent.”

Unfortunately, I knew she was right.

I should have expected it. These people weren’t my friends. They owed me nothing. I had gone out on a limb, and they had sawed it off behind me. Not that I could really blame them. They could go with me and take a chance or pick the safe route with Cosima and save five percent. Easy choice.

It’s not personal. It’s just business.

I was so stunned to see the parade of letters laid out before me that I didn’t notice at first that one name was missing.

Dorothy Starkwell.

I reviewed them all again, one by one, to be sure I hadn’t missed it. I thought maybe Cosima was holding the letter back, waiting until I asked, so that she could hammer the final nail in my coffin. But her folder was empty. My heart took off again; I let out the loud breath I had been holding. I knew Dorothy. She would never sell me out. In the end, I had kept the one client who really mattered. As long as I had her as my flagship for the agency, then I could start from nothing and build my roster all over again. Cosima probably didn’t realize that David Milton wasn’t hanging
over our heads anymore. Dorothy and I were free to do a deal with Guy that would give me what every agent needed more than anything.

Time and money.

I smiled in triumph. “I don’t see Dorothy’s name here.”

Cosima leaned back in her chair, and I experienced the briefest moment of panic, expecting her to withdraw a letter from inside the top drawer of her desk. Instead, I relaxed as I realized she had no more aces to play. She shrugged, as if it were a matter of no importance, but that was all pretense. She had lost the client she wanted most, and she knew it.

“I’m not concerned about Dorothy,” Cosima said.

This time I was the one laughing. “Oh, please. Dorothy is the crown jewel. It must drive you crazy that she’s a woman of principle and you can’t buy her like all the others. She’s not for sale. Dorothy would never walk out on me.”

“Maybe so, but you’ve always been your own worst enemy, Tess.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that you’re reckless. Foolish. Headstrong. That’s why you’re so easy to defeat.”

I ignored her, because I knew she was right. “Did you try to get Dorothy and fail? Did she tell you she was sticking with me? I’m sure that was a terrible blow to your ego.”

“I haven’t been in contact with Dorothy at all. However, if she does choose to retain you as her agent, don’t think for a moment that I’m a fool. I know perfectly well that you’ve already negotiated an eight-figure contract with Guy, and you’ve done so as an employee of this agency. So her next three books will stay here at Bardwright. You’re not going to make a dime off that deal.”

“There’s no deal,” I insisted. “Talk to Guy. Say it slowly with me, Cosima.
There’s no deal
.”

“So you say.”

“That’s right.”

I stood up. I wanted nothing more than to be away from her, away from Marty and Bardwright and all the clients who had betrayed me. I was ready to start over. Me and Dorothy.

“Don’t forget your key, Tess.”

I dug in my pocket for my office key and tossed it on her desk with a clang. Cosima got a little smirk as she palmed it. “I wouldn’t be discouraged if I were you,” she told me. “You see, I gave you a little gift. As I was taking away all your clients, you’ll be pleased to know that I didn’t bother contacting Oliver Howard. You’re free to keep him.”

I didn’t say a word. I walked away and slammed the door. I could hear her laughing at me as I left.

EMMA MET ME
in the hallway. Her eyes were big saucers of confusion and concern. “There’s someone in your office. A security guard.”

“I know.”

“What’s going on?”

I lowered my voice, although I’m not sure why I bothered. “Cosima sacked me.”

Emma’s big eyes got even bigger. “She did
what
? Are you kidding?”

I shook my head.

“Oh my God, Tess. This is crazy.”

I threw open my office door. Everyone watched me in shocked silence, and I figured that Marty had made sure they all knew the score. Tess Drake was on her way out. Humiliated. Beaten. I ripped down the poster of Jane Parmenter and me and crumpled the paper in my hands. Inside the office, a security guard stared at me nervously. He was a kid, no more than twenty-four.