Page 38 of Pretense


  "You are good," he said softly, and even turned to the next page and the next. "Very good." Smiling, he returned Delancey's sketchbook to her and handed her a Chicago Art Institute brochure.

  "Just include any of the drawings I just saw. If your grades match your artwork, you'll get in."

  "I'm at Mills right now."

  The older man nodded. "They have an excellent art program, but I will go out on a limb and say we can offer you more. You will not fail at Mills, not in any way, but I naturally believe that Chicago is the place you should be." His smile warmly encompassed the three of them. "I must go now."

  The other girls began speaking as soon as the lecturer walked away, but Delancey's face was buried in the brochure. She could hardly believe he found her artwork acceptable. A moment of panic filled her. Maybe to recruit students he said

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  something similar to everyone, but that didn't make sense. According to the brochure, he still taught. If he lured her there under false pretenses, he would have to face her.

  She accepted a ride back to campus with the other girls, but when she got to her room found that Lovisa had left her a note to call Kyle. She ignored it and phoned her parents.

  "Jack," she asked after a few minutes, "is there any chance you can come and get me? I want to come home and talk to you guys."

  "Sure I can," he agreed as he always did. "Your mom ran to the grocery store, so as soon as she comes back, I'll tell her. If something comes up, I'll let you know. If not, look for us about noon."

  "Thanks, Jack."

  "D.J., are you all right?"

  "I'm fine, but I'm thinking about changing schools and want your opinion."

  "Okay," Jack said calmly. This was not the first time she'd talked about this, so he wasn't too surprised. And although they were pleased with Mills, he was more than willing to hear her out.

  As he'd hoped, Marrell accompanied him, and they had Delancey with them just a few hours later. The conversation didn't wait until they arrived back at the apartment but started as soon as Delancey got into the car and thrust the brochure at her mother.

  "How sudden is this?" Jack wanted to know.

  "Very sudden, but I feel better about this than I have about any of the other schools I've considered."

  "Why must you leave Mills at all?" Marrell asked.

  "I don't have to, but I've been feeling down about my work lately. Then this morning, really on a whim, I attended a lecture by Mr. Fortier. He's listed right in the brochure, and I'm just so excited."

  Marrell firmly believed that Delancey needed to be leading with her head and not her heart and said so.

  "I am, Mom. The year is over in just a few weeks, and now is the time to get going on another school. I'm not a quitter, so if I get there and hate it, well, I'll stick it out. But I want to try these things now when I'm young."

  Marrell smiled. She made it sound as though her life would be over when she got older.

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  "Besides, I need to put some space between Kyle and me."

  Marrell turned to look at her daughter.

  "I know, Mom," Delancey shot in, "that's not a reason to go across the country to school. But he's getting rather persistent."

  "As in marriage?"

  Delancey's eyes widened. "No, he hasn't said that. He just wants to be with me all the time, and I'm feeling smothered. I never see my friends, and I haven't seen you guys in weeks. How's your ankle, Jack?"

  "It feels good. The doctor was pleased at how fast it mended."

  "Does it hurt to walk on the stairs?"

  "It did for a few weeks, but not much now-just the occasional twinge. I'm riding my bike for exercise, and when I do that, I don't feel anything."

  "Good. What's for dinner, Mom?"

  "We were going to grill hamburgers. Sound good?"

  "Yes," Delancey said fervently, and a moment later she'd settled in the back and gone to sleep.

  "I think she should do this," Jack told Marrell much later that day. Delancey had called some friends and gone out for the evening, but before she left they had talked at length, her ideas and reasons sounding quite sane. The school's cost was lower, which was nice, but it was more the Chicago school's reputation that made Jack think it would work.

  "It's so far," Marrell said, voicing her first thought.

  "It is, but if that's the only thing holding you back, we can't try to talk Delancey out of it."

  "Are you concerned about this thing with Kyle?"

  "Not from Delancey's standpoint. By her own admission she doesn't want to settle down. I worry about his feelings and whether she's been careless with his heart."

  "Do you think she would do that?"

  "Intentionally, no, but she's a fun, beautiful girl, and I can see how he would be very drawn to her. Not to mention that if they're at all physical, she's giving him all sorts of ideas."

  "The last time I asked her, which was months ago," Marrell said with regret, "they weren't."

  "Let's hope she's kept her head over that."

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  "Let me see that brochure again." Marrell took it from Jack's hand and read.

  "It's the same as we've talked about with both girls, Marrell- they're searching and believing that they'll find what they want outside of Christ. You and I both know better, but before they see it, we need to let them grope their way along. If I felt that Delancey would be in danger or come to any harm, I would be shouting my objections from the rooftops, but other than the distance, I can't find a thing wrong with the plan.

  "The very idea that she keeps coming up with other colleges to attend worries me about her finishing college anywhere. She wouldn't be the first student to move around and change majors several times. It looks as though all her credits will transfer, but who knows what she may find in Chicago?"

  "It's such a big city."

  "Marrell," Jack said patiently, "we live in San Francisco."

  Marrell nodded. San Francisco wasn't as big, but Jack had a point.

  "So you think she should apply?"

  "If she wants to. If she wants us to tell her what to do, I don't think we should, but if she wants to do this, I think we should stand behind her. You heard what I said to her about her spiritual state. Maybe one of us will feel there's more we can say about that, but for now, I think we should let her do as she wants."

  Marrell nodded. "Are we ready to have her come home for the whole summer?"

  Jack smiled. "Ready or not, she'll be here in less than two weeks."

  Delancey didn't come in the door until almost 2:00 a.m., waking up both her parents. Jack made sure she was all right but then knew that almost-19 or not, they were going to have to have some rules for the summer.

  Arlington

  "The editor from children's division, Tom Magy, wants to see you."

  Mackenzie heard the sound of Paxton's voice but couldn't answer. She was at work, but even if a call for a national disaster had come through at that moment, she couldn't have responded.

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  "Mackenzie, did you hear me?"

  "Yes. What does that mean?"

  "It means he's interested."

  "Honestly, Pax, I mean, they don't talk with you if they're rejecting it, do they?"

  "No, they don't have time for that. He'd like to see you as soon as possible."

  Mackenzie's mind raced. "I'm not off until the weekend. Is that too late?"

  "I can check with him. He knows you work full-time. I would like to see you before you talk with him, so when can you and I get together?"

  "Anytime." She came back to life.

  "Come to my place tonight. Jodi and I will feed you dinner, and then you and I need to talk business."

  "All right. Pax?"

  "Yeah."

  "Do you know what he's going to say to me?"

  "Not exactly, so you and I will talk over the possibilities. Then I'll give you some instructions."

  "Okay. Oh, I've got to get off here. What
time tonight?"

  "Seven o'clock."

  "See you then."

  She was off the phone a moment later, taking the papers that Captain Engel was handing her. She thanked her lucky stars that the documents were routine. She wouldn't have survived otherwise. A glance at the clock told her it wasn't even lunchtime. Mackenzie began to type, bringing the files she needed up on her screen and adding the new information. At the same time she asked herself how she would make it until seven o'clock that night.

  "I've thought it over, and I'm not going to go over the possibilities with you," Paxton began.

  "But I want you to," Mackenzie argued with him. She had satall the way through dinner and was not going to be put off now

  "Mackenzie, that's not what you need to know right now."

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  "Just humor me, Pax. Just tell me whatmighthappen. I won't get my hopes up, but this is all so new that I feel like a kid on her first day of school."

  "Come on, Paxton," Jodi encouraged from the edge of the room where she was making coffee for the three of them, "tell her what you think."

  Paxton exchanged a look with the woman he loved and turned back to Mackenzie. Mackenzie was more beautiful than Jodi, but not the soul mate to him that his girlfriend was. Every so often he dreamed of Mackenzie, but her youth and inexperience right now made him feel like a big brother. Feeling all at once tender toward her, he capitulated.

  "I wouldn't be asking to see an author unless I thought the book was publishable."

  "The whole book-not just the artwork?"

  "Mackenzie, I'm just telling you how I would handle this, but something tells me that if he only wanted the artwork, he would have told me that he needed to talk to you so he could get Delancey's number."

  "I can't believe it."

  "Well, there's nothing to believe yet, because I don't know what he wants. But at least he didn't return it and say, 'Thanks but no thanks.'"

  Mackenzie could only stare into space. Jodi came in and set a mug of coffee down in front of her, but she didn't even notice. She wanted to jump and dance; she wanted to shout and sing; but mostly she wanted to call her sister.

  You've made it this far, Mic, don't blow it now. You don't know what this man is going to say. You could call D.J., get her hopes up, and find out Saturday that they want to ruin the book. Delancey would never stand for that.

  Mackenzie was repeating all of this to herself as she sat outside of Tom Magy's office on Saturday morning. She and Paxton had gone over everything from how to dress to what to do with her face.

  Remember, Mackenzie,he had said with a smile.Remember that soldier's face you gave me the night we met? You just do that with Tom. Don't even act excited. Just listen, ask a few questions, but remember that I can explain the contract to you. Whatever

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  you do, don't sign anything! Come and see me the minute you're done and tell me what happened.

  Mackenzie mentally reviewed his instructions even as she adjusted her knee-length navy blue skirt for the tenth time. Her blouse was white and her jewelry, dark red. She looked as American as apple pie.

  "Mackenzie Bishop?" A tall man was beside her before she heard his steps. His dark brown hair was cut in the latest style, longer on top and short on the sides. His hazel eyes didn't seem to miss a thing. He was younger than Mackenzie expected.

  "Yes." Mackenzie stood.

  He put out his hand. "I'm Tom Magy. None of the secretaries are in today, so you'll have to make do with me."

  Mackenzie smiled easily but was feeling anything but relaxed as he shook her hand and led her into his office.

  "I like the book," Tom told her as soon as they both took seats in front of the desk. Mackenzie had expected him to sit across from her, but his style was more casual. She was also glad that he skipped all the small talk.

  "Okay." Mackenzie had no idea how to reply and so left it with her one-word answer.

  "In fact," he continued smoothly, thinking that he liked the fact that she didn't fidget or chatter on, "I'd like to publish it. I've even prepared a contract for you and your sister."

  Mackenzie could only stare as he handed her a stack of papers. She could feel her hands grow damp.

  "I would like some changes," Tom went on. Mackenzie came crashing back to earth.

  "Changes? In the artwork?"

  "No," he shocked her by saying, "and I shouldn't have even said changes. What I really want is more words. Not many more," he rushed to add, "but I think the story needs a little more filling in. Is that possible?"

  "Yes," Mackenzie said, regaining her composure.

  "Good, because there's one other thing. The contract is for this book and four others like it. I want a Micah Bear series."

  "You can't be serious," Mackenzie wasted no time in saying.

  "I'm very serious. You see, Mackenzie, you can't get enough of this bear in one book. Children and parents alike will be looking for more. They'll want to know about Christmas, his

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  birthday, a trip to Grandma's, the first day of school, anything. Do you see what I mean?"

  "Yes, and I would like to say yes we can do that, but since my sister does the artwork, and she doesn't even know about this, I'll have to-"

  "She doesn't know about this?"

  Mackenzie could see that she had stunned him. Her voice a bit cool, more to protect herself than anything else, she gave him a swift rundown on what had transpired. She relaxed again when he smiled.

  "That was a neat thing to do. How do you think she'll respond?"

  "Since you're not tearing the art apart, I think she'll be fine. But I'll certainly have to speak with her."

  "Well do, by all means. Tell her I'm very impressed. We'd like to start production ASAP. You'll both have to sign the contract, which means we'll have to send it to her. In fact, if you want to sign now, I can mail it to her. She can look it over and call me with any questions."

  Mackenzie almost smiled. She could see why Paxton had warned her; they probably gave all new authors the rush-act.

  "I believe I'll take some time with this," Mackenzie countered smoothly, watching the editor smile.

  "All right. Can I expect to hear back from you in say, a week?"

  "I'm not sure." Mackenzie suddenly felt very much in control, and again Tom smiled. He liked her; he liked her a lot. When Paxton had told him that she wasn't 20 yet, he'd expected a kid. And she was young, but she was not someone to be pushed around.

  "Here's my card," Tom said, taking one from his pocket and handing it to her. "Call me after you've talked with your sister, and we'll see if we can come to some sort of agreement."

  "All right. Thank you, Mr. Magy, for your time."

  "Call me Tom, and may I return the thanks. It really is a great book. You and your sister are very talented. I hope we can work together."

  He saw her to the door, and Mackenzie walked to the elevator, out of the building, and to her Jeep in a state of shock. It had all happened so quickly. Statements from Paxton earlier in the week about the way contracts work were the only thing that had kept her from peppering the man with questions. Mackenzie broke every speed limit getting to Paxton's place.

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  Twenty-Nine

  "A contract," Mackenzie said for the twentieth time. "He gave me a contract."Paxton was still reading it. Jodi was out, and Mackenzie had no one to talk to. She paced around like a caged animal while the editor sat relaxed on the long sofa.

  "It's standard IronHorse fare," Paxton said at last. "I just have a few suggestions for you."

  "Okay. What are they?" She sat close to him like an eager puppy.

  "I think you should ask for more books, you know, the freebies. This number is too low. And I'd go up a percentage point on the royalties if I were you, maybe even two. He won't balk at that, but then I'd also ask for-"

  The figure he named made Mackenzie's pretty mouth swing open. "You can't be serious. He's already offered so much. If I do that he'll
say, 'Forget it,' and I'll lose the whole deal."

  "No, Mackenzie, he won't. I've already told you that all contracts are negotiable. He'll just-"

  "No, Paxton." She wouldn't let him finish. "It won't work. I'm a nobody. No one's heard of Micah Bear or Mackenzie and Delancey Bishop. He'll laugh and tell me to get out."

  She was on her feet again, pacing and waving her arms. She had kicked her shoes off and even dropped her earrings on the coffee table. Paxton let her flap around and spoke calmly when she finally turned to him.

  "I don't think he'll give you all the money up front, but, Mackenzie, it's not that much per book."

  "What if the books don't sell? We'll have to give it all back."

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  "That's not the way it works. Advance money is an advancement against future royalties. If books don't sell, it's the publisher who's out. You wouldn't get any more money, but you wouldn't have to give back what they've advanced you either."

  "Oh." Mackenzie understood for the first time.

  "Listen, Mackenzie," Paxton went on, "we could hash this over for a week, but the thing you need to do right now is call Delancey."

  "Oh, right. I'll run home right now and then-"

  "Call her from here."

  "She lives in California."

  Paxton smiled. "Call her from here, and if she has questions, I'll be able to answer them."

  "Oh. All right."

  Mackenzie went to the phone, not realizing her hand was shaking until she started to push the buttons, made a mistake, and had to start over. She listened to it ring, hoping someone was home. It was wonderful to have her sister answer.

  "Hello."

  "Hi, Deej."

  "Mic! I was just thinking about you. I went in and stole a sweatshirt from your closet."

  "What sweatshirt did I leave?"

  "That old Cal Poly one. Where did you get it?"

  "I can't even remember. You're welcome to it."

  "Thanks! So, what's up?"

  "Well, I've done something that I'm not sure you'll be happy about. Just tell me you'll hear me out."

  "Sure I will. Hey, you're not engaged, are you?"

  "No, nothing like that. Just listen."