Page 79 of The Island Villa

When had she lost that joy? The simple pleasure of creating a story and living every day with those fictional people? When had it become about numbers, about chart positions—“hitting the list”—about competition, about success and failure?

Number three.

She ran her tongue over dry lips. She wanted to recapture all those early feelings.

She made sure none of her thoughts showed on her face. This was Cassie’s moment. She would not dilute it or tarnish the shine.

“When did this happen?” Why hadn’t Cassie mentioned that she had an agent? Or maybe she didn’t understand how big it was. Maybe she thought finding an agent to represent her was easy. Maybe she wasn’t aware of the number of submissions and rejections that most writers endured in their quest to see their words in print.

“I sent it to her months ago, but didn’t hear anything. I’d given up. Then she called me last week to say she’d read my book in one sitting and loved it. She offered to represent me, and of course I said yes.”

Of course, Catherine thought. Because who would turn down the opportunity to be represented by the Mighty Madeleine?

Had Madeleine taken her on because she knew Cassie was Catherine Swift’s daughter? Was it cynical of her to allow that thought into her head?

Whether it was true or not, she had no intention of voicing it.

“Has she told you which publishers she plans to approach?”

“She sent it out to a few people last week.”

“Only last week?” Catherine gave her a sympathetic look. “Then you need to brace yourself for another long wait.”

“That’s what I told myself, but then she called an hour ago.” Cassie sat up a little straighter. “She’s had three offers.”

“Three?”

What was it with the number three?

“Yes. And I’ve been offered a two-book deal.” Breathless with disbelief and excitement, Cassie shared what her agent had said, naming one of the biggest publishers in the game. “They think I’m an exciting new voice. They told me they think I’ll be big. I can’t believe it!”

Catherine couldn’t believe it either. Pride grew inside her until she almost burst with it. Her baby! A major book deal. A soon-to-be-published author. Who would have thought it?

She sprang from her chair and hugged her daughter.

“Congratulations. This is incredible news.”

“I know! I can’t believe it.” Cassie hugged her back. “Thank you.”

For a moment, Catherine stood like that, breathing in the sweet scent of her daughter’s hair and bathing in her child’s happiness. It engulfed her like a wave, lifting her spirits. It had been a shock to her to discover that as a mother she was intrinsically connected to her child’s mood. Maybe it wasn’t that way for everyone, but it certainly was for her.

Cassie’s happiness was her happiness.

Adeline’s pain was her pain.

She gave her daughter a final squeeze and returned to her chair. The evening was going better than she could possibly have hoped for. And they weren’t even talking about the wedding. They were just a normal family, celebrating the success of one of its members. “Do you have any idea what an achievement this is? Andrew, we must open more champagne.”

He was already on his feet and smiling. “We must. I’ll fix that right away. Congratulations, Cassie.” He headed to the kitchen, along paths lit by tiny lights and bordered by flowers.

Adeline leaned across the table and tapped her half-empty glass against her sister’s.

“Go you! Why didn’t you mention it before?”

“Because I didn’t think it was going to happen,” Cassie said. “I thought I’d jinx it. And when it’s something you’ve created, rejection is so personal. If it turned out everything I’d written was crap, I didn’t really want to announce it. It’s hard enough believing in yourself without anyone else casting doubt.”

Welcome to my world, Catherine thought.

“This explains why you were cagey whenever I asked you if you’d had any thoughts about what you might do next,” Adeline said. “Presumably this is what you’re doing next.”

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