The words were harsh, but they had not been as disparaging as the ones Willow often received from most of her family. More importantly, Damen Leventis had not dismissed her as useless. Instead, he had, in a roundabout way, told her she had the kind of passion that could be turned into a profitable talent.
Willow had made up her mind after that. “I want to publish your manual.” And after that, the rest was her history as Damen Leventis’ unpaid and overworked slave.
Noticing the way his young companion was doing her best to chew her lower lip into pieces, Damen said with quiet assurance, “It will be all right.”
“I’m not worried. Are you worried?”
Damen ignored the blustery answer. “Would you like to practice pitching again?”
She shrugged. “If you need it.”
Too proud, Damen thought, lips twitching. Oddly, it reminded him of Stavros Manolis, and an idea occurred to him. When he was done with all his troubles and he had given Mairi her happy-ever-after, he would make sure to find a way for Stavros and Willow to meet. He had a feeling that the two would hit it off right away, both of them being workaholics but with different perspectives about work. One was a cold-blooded tactician, the other a passionate advocate.
Out loud, he said dryly, “Yes, I do need it.”
Willow inhaled deeply. “Okay. Here goes.” She took another deep breath.
A few moments passed.
“I’m still waiting.”
“I’m building momentum.”
Damen rolled his eyes.
More moments passed.
“How much momentum do you need again?”
“Shut up.”
Damen shook his head. “Willow?” He waited until his editor faced him, and this time he saw how pale she was. Ah, damn. The girl had stage fright. This wasn’t good, for her or for him.
He picked up their twenty-page proposal from the table. “What’s this I’m holding, Willow?”
She frowned. “Our proposal of course.”
“How long have we been working on this?”
“Almost three months.” She paused. “But I was the one mostly working on it since you barely found time to meet up with me to check its progress.” Thinking back on the numerous sleepless nights she had spent slaving over the proposal, Willow crossed her arms over her chest with a disapproving frown. “Even the phone calls were infrequent.”
A faint flush of color stained Damen’s sculpted cheeks. “I apologize for that, but you do have the worst timing when it comes to calling me. This is my surprise for my wife, remember? I can’t have her figuring out what I’m planning.” Deciding to change the subject before the debate-loving Willow found a way to argue with him about it, Damen said, “This proposal means everything to both of us for different reasons.”
She nodded.
“Why is it important to you?”
“Because it’s my chance to prove that I deserve to work here and, eventually, lead Hamnet.”
“Good. And why do you think our proposal is worthy of being published?”
“Because you’re a controversial figure, and autobiographies or semi-autobios by controversial figures always sell.”
Behind Willow, Damen discreetly watched William Somerset, the CEO of Hamnet and also his editor’s father, come in, the door noiselessly swinging shut behind him. Right away, he recognized the opportunity for the young woman to present her pitch without her nerves and insecurities getting the better of her.
Keeping his gaze on Willow, he prompted, “The real reason, Willow. I’m just one of the dozens of controversial figures here in Greece, and you know it. If you want your company to back your proposal and spend millions on this, we both need to go all in.”
Easier said than done, Willow thought, but unfortunately she also knew it to be true. Slowly, she said, “When I first learned of your proposal, I thought you just wanted to make a quick one mil or something. I thought you wanted to publish something that was like a cross between an Idiot’s Guide for Gold Diggers and a self-help book for the Real Housewives of Athens.”
Although it wasn’t his first time to hear of Willow’s initial thoughts, Damen still winced.
Catching sight of Damen’s pained look, she said sheepishly, “Sorry. When I got to talk to you, I knew right away it wasn’t like that.”
“So what is it about then?”
She closed her eyes, letting her imagination fly. Papers shuffled, words drifted up in the air in a colorful tornado, and around it were readers – so many of them, and they all wanted to read the book because…
“It’s a book about love,” Willow said softly, eyes still closed. “The Art of Catching a Greek Billionaire isn’t about making a woman happy because she now has access to billions of dollars. It was never that. It’s about the man – the billionaire who may seem to have everything but doesn’t. This book shows that Greek billionaires need to be caught by the right woman because...”
Willow squeezed her eyes shut more tightly. “Because a woman who loves selflessly, eternally – that’s his true wealth. The one thing he can’t ever buy.” A smile touched her lips, and the look on her face made it obvious why she was named such.
Willowy beautiful in a way that could easily make people catch their breath, Willow continued, “The Art of Catching a Greek Billionaire doesn’t aim to be profound or informative. It’s just a book of love and hope, a book that’s likely to make you cry and laugh but in the end, it’s going to make you feel good. It’s going to make you look forward to tomorrow because you know…if fate was able to make Mairi Tanner’s dreams come true…if fate was able to make Damen Leventis fall in love when he never believed it existed in the first place…” Her shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug. “Why couldn’t it happen to the rest of us?”
A second later, Willow’s eyes flew open at the sound of someone slowly clapping his hands. When she spun her seat around, she was stunned to see her father inside the conference room, and behind him was the rest of the acquisitions committee.
William Somerset asked gruffly, “Would a 100,000 initial print run do?”
Everyone in the room knew the answer to that.
Willow shrugged, not knowing how to express her emotions so in the end, she decided to do what she usually did, and that was to retreat behind a shell of indifference. “I…umm…think it’s adequate.”