The Long Game

Chapter 1

"Jaiden Baylor has once again been voted the Sexiest Man of the Year!" I threw a cursory glance at the early morning talk show before glancing down again to make sure my breakfast wasn't burning.

"Can you blame America? Honestly... If I were ten years younger..." Evelyn, the primary host, cut herself off as the wolf whistles and cheers of the live audience grew louder than before. They had now displayed a picture of Jaiden on the screen.

I flip the french toast out of the pan and onto my plate of bacon before turning off the stovetop and sitting at the kitchen bar. The echo show mounted to the wall had my full attention.

"Baylor's most recent role in the YA turned movie 'A Prince among Men' broke 200 billion opening weekend. I went to see it with my girls, and it was nothing short of brilliant on his part."

'A Prince Among Men' was my favorite fantasy novel currently on the market. I, too, had gone to see the movie with Kara, my best friend, this weekend and was blown away. My younger brother, Garret, Jaiden's best friend, had tried to tell me I could just ask Jaiden to go to the red carpet event, but I was having none of that. While it was my favorite book, I wasn't up for red carpets, paparazzi, or millions of screaming fans. As I finished breakfast, I watched as they reported on Jaiden's upcoming roles, confirmed and rumored, before they switched to discussing the Golden Globes outfits.

At this point, I turned it off and focused on getting ready for work. My phone pinged an alert as she loaded the last of her dishes in the washer.

'Family Dinner. Saturday at 7 pm,' Mom said. I quickly texted to confirm I would be there. Mom opted to like the message instead of responding to it, which drew a chuckle from me as I grabbed my purse and keys before heading out the door.

I went through the motions of a normal work day: driving to the office, clocking in, and starting the current proofread I needed to send back by tonight. By the time noon rolled around, I found myself inside a work meeting with the other editors: hungry and bored out of my mind. These meetings were always a formality, really. Molly, the branch leader, didn't have time to meet with all the editors one on one all the time, so she held these group meetings to see where they all stood.

"Margo, how goes the Daisy Rice novel?" I glanced up from my notebook to Molly. We were in a staff meeting discussing her publishing company's top projects.

"The Daisy Rice project is on its final proofread. It is on time to release at the end of the month still. I've also been ensuring that we keep up the snippets on TikTok, which have been skyrocketing in views, and the book's hype is up. People are excited about the release. We've already decided the first book signing will be here in New York. The dates are still being decided as she'll be flying in from Oklahoma and has kids, but she's agreed to do it." I finished my schpiel before Molly moved on to the next person.

To most people, it was no surprise when I went for an English Degree with a minor in creative writing. I had always loved books and words and their power over people. While I wasn't ready to publish my own book, I was more than ready to help others have their voices heard. It was always one of the best days of my life when I got the approval to go ahead with a project and reach out to the author. There was usually screaming and crying, in the best ways, involved and lots of hugs and thanks.

I tuned back in when Molly closed her laptop. That was always the signal for the final summation of the meeting, and she was ready to go to lunch... especially since this meeting had run over by a good half hour and the first half of work was spent looking at a screen with more than 100,000 words.

"Alright, remember to stay on it. We've already got three late projects; I don't want to see any more. Margo, Wyatt, Steven, and Priscilla: Stay behind to set up dates for book signings. The rest of you are free to go." Margo inwardly groaned as the other ten people at the table stood to leave. My work wife, Evie, shot her a sympathetic look and mouthed 'Sandwiches' before disappearing out the door. At least she didn't have to spend the last portion of her break waiting in line for food; I shot her a grateful look.