23 Attempts at Love

Chapter 19: Client Confidentiality

"Lucy, I need you to call this author we've just signed and get him to come into the office. He apparently won't answer emails and we have some issues with the cover he wanted. Can you sweet-talk him into coming in?" Hannah left me the number on my desk: her way of asking you to do something which wasn't really asking. Dave Rose was a writer from East London who had spent years self-publishing his work online before finally writing a winner. Hannah had spotted it online and set everything up herself, but from what I'd heard he could be a little bit difficult to deal with. He'd planned everything in his head, right down to the colour of the text in the book to exactly what illustrator should be used (someone who died last year, because his research hadn't been that extensive).

"Hi! Is that Mr Rose? It's Lucy calling from Hannah's office in Illusion Publishing. I was wondering if you had a moment to talk?" I put on my sweetest voice for this: no point getting fired for winding up a client.

"Call me Dave," the voice at the end of the phone answered. "Sure! What can I help you with?" For a moment I was taken aback: this was the client Hannah had spent weeks complaining about? He seemed nice so far.

"Ah, thanks Dave. Well, I've spoken to Hannah and she's said she wanted to talk to you about the cover of the book. I'm sure we all want to get it just right, so I was wondering if you'd be able to pop in for a quick chat and to go through some ideas we had for it? She's got everything set up, it's more for your benefit so you can visualise what everything will look like."

"I can do that. I know she's sent me a few emails but I've been so busy. Full-time job and full-time author, you know?" Dave laughed. "Anyway, when works for you guys? Thursday? I could do the afternoon?"

"Thursday would work perfectly," I smiled down the phone. I hated calling difficult writers but this call was working out nicely. Hannah would hate it.

"Great. Oh, and Lucy? Can you make sure Hannah brings a few more ideas to the meeting than what she's already shown me? I feel like our visions are very different. Her creativity seems a little stifled, don't you think?" Dave laughed again. I laughed awkwardly back.

"I haven't seen what she's drawn up, but I'll have a word!"

I popped my head into Hannah's office as soon as I'd booked the meeting in.

"Dave Rose is coming in on Thursday afternoon to go through the cover with you," I grinned. She glowered back.
"He answered the phone to you?"

"Maybe I caught him just at the right time," I shrugged. Or maybe he was avoiding Hannah's extension number.

"How did you get him to agree to come in?" She asked, dumbfounded. I shrugged again.

"It wasn't that difficult. He did say he wanted you to bring more ideas than the ones you've already shown him, though. I don't know what's wrong but he didn't like whatever you've sent over so far."

"Son of a bitch," Hannah growled, sweeping a stack of paper off her desk and onto the floor. "He'll get whatever he gets at this rate. He'll be lucky if I even publish the damn thing, now."

Dave Rose appeared in our office on Thursday afternoon: I was in charge of setting him up in the meeting room (which was organised more like a living room, but with tables), with a fresh mug of tea and some biscuits. Hannah wanted him sweetened up (literally) before she waltzed in with a fresh board of illustrations and designs for him to reject.

"Ah, the Lucy from the phone, I presume?" He smiled, offering his hand for me to shake.

"That's the one!" I grinned, taking a seat. Hannah had just texted to say she was running about thirty minutes late and was still on the tube on the way back to the office. I was on stalling duty.