they're going to receive the accolades for running with your story, how much is that worth? How much is the ensuing book deal, or T.V. deal worth? Take that into account, then add twenty-percent."
Cecilia's eyes bugged out. "Are you kidding me? They'll laugh me out the door."
"Or they'll open their checkbook."
She swallowed. This was all too much. Maybe she should call Jeanine. Or Trace.
A knock sounded behind her. "Sweetie Pie? Everything okay?"
"Gotta run. Thanks for the advice," she rushed, hanging up. "Uhh, yeah?" She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, blowing out slowly in the hopes it would calm her racing heart. She pulled open the door and stepped smack into Dottie's ample bosom.
"Cecilia Sanchez, you stop hiding young lady. Whatever that gal wants, you march right back in there and ask for it. I know your mama didn't raise you to shy away from a challenge." Dottie wrapped her in a quick hug. "I'll be right by the coffee pot if you need anything."
Fortified, Cecilia made her way back, grabbing the coffee pot as she went. "Refill?" she asked Marissa, pushing over more creams and sugars.
"Can we wrap this up? I've got a noon flight out of Wichita. Name your price."
Cecilia took a napkin and pulled the pen from behind her ear, and wrote down the most ridiculous number she could think of, and pushed the napkin across the counter.
"Whatever that number is," Dottie called out from the coffee station. "Add thirty-percent. Cecilia always undervalues herself."
Marissa's eyes grew wide as she looked from the napkin, to Cecilia, to Dottie, and back to the napkin. "That's, ahh... not insignificant."
"And I'm sure your husband will be willing to match it and then some," Dottie said with the force of a spring storm. "Might be I have him on speakerphone right now."
Cecilia shook her head. Of course Dottie knew everything. She had ears like an owl. And where had she learned to negotiate like that? She was trying hard not to freak out as her brain ran in six directions, and Dottie was as calm and cool as a cucumber in the walk-in.
Marissa sniffed in hard, jaw setting. "In that case, I'll offer an additional thirty-five percent, and a five-figure bonus when it sells ten-million copies. And more if you can convince the source to interview."
That would never happen. She'd take her source to the grave. Cecilia beat Dottie to the punch. "O-on the napkin, please?" She pulled a napkin from the dispenser and laid it in front of the woman.
Marissa scowled but nodded, writing in bold strokes on the napkin before pushing it back across the countertop.
Cecilia stared at the numbers for a full thirty seconds before nodding then folding the napkin and shoving it in her front pocket. Her voice trembled when her throat unstuck enough to finally speak. "I think this calls for a piece of pie."
Marissa stuck out her hand again. "Welcome to the Atlantic Journal, Cecilia. And buckle-up. This is going to be a wild ride."
The rest of Cecilia's shift passed in a blur, and she was still dazed as she pedaled home. This changed everything, and not just financially. What did she want to do with her life, now that she could do anything with it? The question weighed on her heavily. She'd fallen into an easy life now that she was at home. Early morning shift at the diner, fixing up the house in the afternoons, evenings with Trace and her girlfriends. Weekends hanging out, catching the guys at a local rodeo or watching movies. Most people would give anything for the life she had. And yet... she was restless. She pushed the thoughts from her mind as she pedaled up the drive, to find Trace lounging on the porch steps. "Hey!" she called, hopping off the bike and tackling him with a bear hug. "Come to celebrate?"
His eyes lit. "What are we celebrating?"
The excitement Cecilia'd been holding at bay, finally bubbled out. "You'll never believe it. The editor-in-chief from one of the biggest news outlets in the country bought my story. And they offered a crazy amount. And I have to call my old editor to thank him, because this changes everything, and ohmygosh I'm SO excited!"
Trace pulled back, a look of concern washing over his face.
That was... not the look she was expecting. "What? What is it?"
He shook his head and flashed her the smile that never failed to send her libido into overdrive. "Nothing at all. Congratulations."