Page 38 of Wish You Were Her
“Fine,” Simon allowed. “But we’ve booked him. He’s expected. And the press will want to ask him to talk about cultural issues, and that will make all the Arts sections.”
“Oh, great,” Jonah snapped, his voice becoming darker by the syllable. “Another millionaire going on about cancel culture in a huge, three-page spread with lots of exposure while our real artists can’t afford the bus ticket here. And none of us are allowed to point out the hypocrisy of it all. God! We’re better than this, George, we can’t have the festival associated with this crap. These summers used to mean something to people, real people, not the pretenders who think a book’s only worthwhile if their publishers can pay enough to put it on a billboard.”
“That’s enough,” George said, weary of it all. “You’re getting passionate about something that hasn’t even happened yet. We’ll remind him that, while we’re far more popular than we once were, we still cannot afford to pay some writers more than others. And we’ll go from there.”
Usually, George’s answer would have been enough to pacify Jonah but he was so restless. There was something out of place when it came to George and the bookshop now. What had once been a place of familiarity and comfort was now aconstant gnawing of insecurity, a feeling that he had overstayed his welcome as a bookseller. Once, it had been normal for George to ask Jonah about his notebook, the short story or novel he was working on. The two of them would talk about what they had been reading. Now, Jonah was lucky if he received a greeting in the morning and a farewell in the evening. He didn’t understand why.
“Jonah, you’ve got to relax,” George went on, finally looking at his most loyal employee. “It’s just a book festival.”
The words slithered about in the air, serpent-like to Jonah in their audacity and contradiction.
“It’snotjust a book festival,” Jonah said, a little brokenly. “How can you, of all people, say that, George? You, who started this whole thing. To bring books and events to Lake Pristine, to put it on the map.”
“Pretty sure the weird carnivals and the Valentine’s Day Ball put Lake Pristine on the map,” Simon said, his voice full of a levity that did not belong in the conversation. “This is a town for hopeless romantics, most of the year. The Summer Book Festival is the only time we can get people to actually use their brains.”
“I’m happy to talk to Quentin’s team again,” Courtney interjected. “I’m sure we can remind them that the festival has a collective nature to it and that we want all artists to be paid the same. His book sales will be enormous.”
“I’m sure his advances are better than most,” Jonah said bitterly. “More than the poets, and the children’s authors and the debut novelists. He can take it or leave it.”
“Excuse me,” George said, stepping away from the table to make sure no customers were listening to their meeting, “I make the final decisions here. Jonah, you’re acting like—”
“What if I can help?”
Allegra’s voice cut through the tension. George stopped speaking at once, seeming to remember that she was there. It was the first thing she had said throughout the entire meeting. Jonah stared at her. “What?”
“What if I can get an even bigger author to come? One who’ll bring in more sales but won’t mind taking the same fee as everyone else?”
“Who did you have in mind, Allegra?” Courtney asked. She put her glasses back on, poised to take notes. The whole room now regarded Allegra, awaiting her solution.
Chapter Twelve
Allegra swallowed down all feelings of doubt. The chances of her only author acquaintance coming to the festival were as likely as her and Jonah becoming friends, but she had to try.
“Pamela H. J. Wilcox won’t come here,” Jonah said quietly, knowing exactly what she was plotting. His heart didn’t even seem to be in the denial, though. “It’s too remote, too small. She doesn’t even do major cons. Why would she come here?”
“Because I’m going to ask her to,” Allegra replied.
She watched Jonah wipe a tiny speck of sleep away from the corner of his eye and grimace. “And that’s all it takes, is it?”
He finally looked at her and they regarded each other, both with the same amount of icy consideration.
“I’ll try,” Allegra finally said, and it was as if there was no one else in the room.
Somehow Jonah Thorne’s principled stance on the festival had touched something in Allegra. The film business was full of people who were happy to step on their colleagues if it meant more of the spotlight for themselves. Jonah had, at first, seemed indifferent to Quentin’s presence, but his indignant dismay at the man asking for more money had brought out a better side to him.
“If she were to join the program, we would need confirmation pretty swiftly,” Courtney said gently.
“I’m on it,” Allegra said, doubling down.
“I have complete and utter faith in you, Allegra,” Simon suddenly said.
“Me, too,” her father added, but he was slightly paler. “Uh, Courtney, why don’t we head to the tourist board for a debrief. The kids can manage the shop.”
“I can help,” Jonah said, and Allegra saw in his eyes something boyishly unsure and nervous.
“No,” George said curtly. “Thanks.”
