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Who do you put through to me and what do you say to the other one?”
    I hesitated, unable to solve this Sphinx-like riddle with any kind of ease.
    â€œHurry!” she said. “You’re not going to have time to mull this decision with two lines blinking.”
    â€œI put Karanuk through to you and let you know that the editor is on the other line,” I said quickly. “Then I tell the editor that you’ll be with her—or him—shortly.”
    Lucy smiled again, showing all her gleaming teeth. I exhaled and felt my shoulders relax a little, confident that I’d given the right answer.
    â€œWrong!” she said. “
Always
put an editor through first, no matter how small. That’s where the money is. Without publishers, we have no business. That small-time editor could be a big-time publisher tomorrow. It’s happened before and it will happen again.”
    â€œOh,” was all I could think to say.
    â€œBut you’re obviously an author advocate. That’s very sweet.”
    Craig had come back into the room in the middle of this interchange and seated himself with his pad once again. The two of them proceeded to ask me a series of questions, all of which seemed more or less standard, considering the position. Which books were my favorites? Why? Which popular books hadn’t I liked? Why? What had I learned about publishing trends from my work at Blue Moon? How fast and how accurately could I read?
    I answered all their questions with responses I’d prepared ahead of time, but part of me was removed from the interview and watching in dismay. I was quite sure I’d blown my chances with my answer to Lucy’s editor/author question.
    â€œNow…
Angel,
” Lucy said, my name seeming to stick in her throat before she forced it out, “I must, of course, ask you why you’ve decided to leave Blue Moon. Doesn’t Elise treat you well?”
    â€œOh no, it’s not that at all,” I said quickly. “Elise is wonderful! But she’s closing the store.” I felt a pang of sadness just saying it out loud. “I guess you didn’t know.”
    â€œWhat a shame,” Lucy said, shaking her head. “Although I’ve often told her she needed to do more to keep up with the big boys. Too idealistic—that’s Elise’s problem. What a pity.”
    â€œYes,” I said, “it’s a real—”
    â€œWe could talk all day, I’m sure,” Lucy interrupted, rising to her feet, “but I’ve really got to get back on the phone, and I have several other candidates to interview today. Really, we’ve had an overwhelming response from that ad, haven’t we, Craig?”
    â€œOverwhelming,” Craig rumbled.
    â€œWhat I’d like to do is to get your take on a couple of manuscripts,” Lucy said. “Why don’t you have Nora give you some things from today’s mail and also something that we’re working on now? She can give you the George proposal. I think that one would be good. You can drop off your notes if you like or fax them in. We’ll talk again after that. How does that sound?”
    â€œGreat,” I said, and shook her hand once more. “Thank you so much.”
    â€œJust one more question,” Lucy said. “You’re not a
writer,
are you? There’s no place for writers here.”
    My mind stumbled over the irony of that statement while my mouth started forming an answer, but Lucy interrupted me once more. “I
have
made the mistake of hiring writers before. It doesn’t work.” She shuddered, as if remembering a bad dream. “We represent writers here, we don’t create them. Is that clear?”
    I had no difficulty responding this time. Of all the questions Lucy had asked me, this one had the surest answer.
    â€œI have no talent for writing,” I told her. “Reading is my passion.” I thought about Malcolm and