The Wedding Wager (McMaster the Disaster) by Astor Rachel

Author:Astor, Rachel [Astor, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-01-08T02:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

My cell rang on the way back to the apartment. I knew better than to have a conversation in front of the paparazzi, and even though Andrea was still in the park, the other two were still hanging around. I hurried inside, making sure the door was shut securely behind me before I answered.

“Miss McMaster?” a woman asked.

“Yes?” I asked, instantly suspicious.

“I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Carla. I got your number off your sister Rosie? She and I used to work together at the bookstore here in the city?”

“Oh sure, how are you?” I could not, for the life of me, figure out why this woman from my sister’s past would ever want my number.

She cleared her throat, obviously nervous. “It’s probably a little surprising that I’m calling you out of the blue, and I’m not sure if Rosie told you, but I’m a literary agent now.”

“Oh, congratulations,” I said, my mind still scrambling to piece this rather strange conversation together.

“Well agent’s assistant, actually, but I’ve just been given the go ahead to start taking on a few of my own clients.”

“Okaaaay,” I said, pushing open the door to the apartment.

She cleared her throat again. It was really quite sweet how nervous she was. I could picture her in her office, or perhaps cubicle, cheeks all rosy as she twisted the cord around and around her fingers, trying to stick to the script on the yellow legal pad in front of her. She took a deep breath. “And I would like for you to be the first client I take on.”

“Client?” I said, even more dumbfounded than before. “Um, doesn’t a person need to write a book to be a client of a literary agent?”

“Well, usually, yes. But,” she cleared her throat once more for good measure. “Well, Rosie let me in on the little secret that you’re no stranger to writing memoirs…”

“Are you serious? I am going to kill her. God, I told her that in confidence.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” she assured me, though I couldn’t help but remember back to the people, including a former best friend, who had burned me before. “And the thing is… while we’d love to represent your memoirs, or perhaps an inside look into your upcoming nuptials—honestly, with your life, the possibilities are endless—what I really feel is your most marketable asset right now is your journal.”

“What do you mean?”

“I would like to shop The Disaster Diary to publishers.”

I had absolutely no friggin’ clue what to say. “The Disaster Diary?”

“Absolutely,” she said, her voice gaining confidence. “We already know it’s a winner, based on the reaction to the newspaper article. You know, the one who secretly published your leaked entries?”

“Oh, I remember,” I said, thinking back to that first day when it felt like the whole world was watching my every move. Which, if you count anyone who even had a glance at a paper or an entertainment broadcast, it pretty much was.

“What I propose

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