I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but laugh a little. Sure, it’s a bit over the top as far as greetings go, but I actually appreciate her straightforwardness—after all, it’s not like everyone else in the group isn’t checking him out too. At least she’s open about it. And Liam seems to take it well enough, grinning good-naturedly as they shake. “I’m excited to meet you all, too. Although I have to admit, I’m a little worried I’m going to be a liability here. I don’t think I’ve played kickball since the third grade.”
Despite Liam’s earlier protests about not mixing well with friends, he fits right in with the group. He and Justin do have a lot to talk about, in fact, but he’s also genuinely interested in Katie’s next book and April’s plans to expand her flower shop. And as far as kickball goes, turns out he hasn’t forgotten anything since elementary school.
The hours pass in a blur of friendly competition, gossip, and good-natured smack-talk. Once the game is over, we head to one of the gang’s favorite spots in Brooklyn, a hip bar with a massive deck out back that’s normally teeming with people on a summer afternoon. Today we’re in luck, though—the crowds have fled the city, and there’s enough room for all of us to cluster around a big wooden picnic table, shaded from the afternoon sun by a huge white umbrella. We order a few pitchers and some snacks while Natalie (who’s something of an amateur astrologist in addition to her job as an award-winning journalist), figures out Liam’s rising sun and moon signs. “Looks like you’re embarking on a sexy new relationship with a super-hot girl,” she deadpans, and I throw a peanut in her direction.
“Wow, maybe I ought to pay more attention to my horoscope,” Liam says, laughing.
I head inside the bar when it’s my turn to buy a round, dropping a tip into the bucket for the bartenders and picking my way through the crowd with a pitcher of wheat beer in one hand and a double IPA in the other. I’ve nearly made it back out onto the patio when I hear someone call my name. When I turn around I spy Jen Hannaford, an editor at a competing publishing house, waiting in line for the ladies’ room.
“Thirsty?” she asks with a smile.
“Parched,” I joke, holding up my pitchers. I’ve known Jen almost as long as I’ve been in publishing. We’ve attended a bunch of the same conferences and industry parties over the years and even had lunch a few times, though there’s always a spark of competition between us. In fact, I narrowly outbid her for Katie’s book just last year.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” she says now, lifting her cocktail in a toast. “Word around the water cooler is that you finally got Verity Lange to deliver the goods.”
“News travels fast,” I say with a smile. “But it was definitely a team effort.”
Jen nods. “Speaking of teams,” she says, lowering her voice a bit, “if you’re ever looking to make a change, there’s room on mine. I was actually going to call you this week and let you know that we’re looking to hire a senior editor.”
I can’t deny that my ears prick up a little bit—a senior editor job would be a huge step up for me, one that I’ve been working toward for years—but then I glance back in the direction of the patio, where Liam is laughing at something that Wes said. I shake my head. “You’re sweet to think of me,” I tell her, “but I’m happy where I am, thanks. I want to see this thing through.”
“You sure?” Jen raises her eyebrows. “It could be a great chance to get off a sinking ship.”
“What, Sterling?” I frown, a bit taken aback. “We’re doing fine. I mean, sure, things were a little bit in flux after Harry passed away, but Liam was able to get everything under control, and with Verity’s new book out in a few weeks I don’t think there’s anything for us to worry about.”
Jen nods quickly. “That’s right,” she says, but I’m not sure if I’m imagining that she doesn’t sounds entirely convinced. “My mistake.”
The door to the ladies’ room opens just then, and Jen and I say our goodbyes. “It was great to run into you,” I tell her with a grin, holding the pitchers up one more time. “I’m going to go chug these.”
Back out on the patio, Liam and April are chatting about his cousin’s plan to expand his burgeoning nightclub empire into pizzas. “I mean, you have to admit it makes sense,” April says admiringly. “Literally all I want to do after a night out is stuff my face with an extra-cheese pie.”
“I just had the weirdest conversation,” I tell Liam, filling him in on my encounter with Jen.
I’m expecting him to laugh it off, but he tilts his head to the side, like he’s actually considering it. “I mean, it doesn’t sound that weird to me,” he says when I’m finished. “They’d be silly not to want you.”
“Well, thanks,” I say, pleased. “But I don’t want them.” I start to change the subject, but Liam stops me.
“Are you sure you don’t want to at least go interview, and see what they’re offering?”
I pause, thrown. “It’s a senior editor position,” I explain slowly. “But, I couldn’t leave Sterling. Not right now.”
“It sounds like it’s worth considering,” Liam says, looking serious. “That could be a great opportunity for you.”
I frown. “Do you want me to leave?” I can’t help but ask.
“I don’t want you to do anything,” Liam says amiably, reaching for a fried pickle chip from the basket on the table. “But if it’s good for your career—and it sounds like it is—why wouldn’t you at least think it over?”
I don’t have an answer for that. But as we finish our beers and head back to Liam’s apartment, I feel weird and unsettled. And it’s not until we’re parked on his massive leather couch with a boatload of Chinese takeout that I figure out why. “Listen,” I tell him, turning to face him. “I’ve got no plans to leave Sterling, okay? This company has been good to me, and loyalty matters. My authors matter. I wouldn’t just cut and run and leave them stranded just because Jen Hannaford dangled a new job in front of me.”
Liam nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Your career matters too, doesn’t it?” he asks,. “I’m sure they’d understand. Are you telling me they wouldn’t jump ship to another publisher if they got offered a better deal somewhere else?”
“I don’t know about that,” I say, feeling my temper flare. “But I think I’ve put in enough time and effort with them—and earned enough respect—that if that happened, they’d come to me first so that we could work something out.”
“Maybe that’s true,” Liam says slowly. “And I know you’ve worked hard on the relationships you’ve made at Sterling. But this is business, not a romance novel. It’s not all happily ever afters, with everyone staying together until the end of time.”
I freeze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Right away, Liam shakes his head. “That came out wrong,” he says, busying himself with a takeout container. “All I meant to say is that you’re very talented, your reputation is stellar, and any publisher would be lucky to have you. You deserve to be appreciated wherever you are.”