A/N: please read the personal note at the bottom for more information.
I spent the better part of Thursday and Friday brewing over the contract and marking every paragraph I did not understand with a question mark. After going through the entire contract multiple times, I realized I needed help. Callie, obviously, had never read a contract from a publishing agency before, so she knew about as much as I did – nothing. But after calling in a favor with Addison, who called her friend Matthew, who is a lawyer, I finally got some elucidation and most of my questions have been answered. The rest, I need to talk about with Eliza Minnick.
"You know, those words won't change just by staring at them, right?", Callie whispers into my ear, pulling me out of my thoughts and forcing me to avert my eyes from the papers I have been focused on. Feeling her lips placing a chaste kiss on my cheek, I lean into her touch before she sits down in the armchair next to mine and stretches her legs out on the ottoman. "Can I help with anything?"
"I think I have a pretty good understanding now of what royalties are and how they work", I begin, talking more to myself than to her. "So, basically, the agency pays me the agreed-upon amount in thirds and that amount ends up being my royalties. Kind of like credit, or red numbers, I guess. The difference is, that I do not have to pay it back. Even if the book does not sell well, which is good, right?" Out of the corner of my eye, I see her nodding, so I keep going, "Unless I end up doing something that makes the contract void by law. Which is stupid, but apparently it happens a lot with first-time authors." At least that's what Eliza told me on the phone. "In my case, that means the following: once signed, I cannot walk away from the project until it is finished and I have to meet the deadline."
Callie nods again. I know she is trying to keep up with what I am telling her. She has that concentrated look on her face that I absolutely adore; the small crease between her eyebrows, her forefinger against pursed lips. She does not say a word, not even when I look at her, but I know she is processing the information given to her.
Blowing out some air, I flip the page of my notebook and continue, "For every book that is sold, I get rewarded with royalties that are added to my royalty account and once the whole amount of money is paid back, I would actually make money from my book. Sounds easy, right?" Primarily, it sounds promising, Arizona. "Matthew did the math for me, I only have to sell like 4500 copies to actually get a paycheck that comes from selling my book." Skimming over my notes, I start speaking again before I can stop giving away what the geek in me did the other night. "In comparison, Harry Potter and the Philosopher Stone was only printed about 500 times when it was first published, and not even all of those copies hit the stores. A book award, a medal, and thousands of word of mouths later, it still took the book two years to reach its famous status and sell 300.000 times all over the world." Yes, I did my research this time. What is the internet for, right? "So, honestly, 4500 does not sound like a high number, at all. But I am still indecisive. Even though I know now that the contract is legit, I still feel like signing away my rights to my baby." And it does not matter how many times Eliza tries to assure me that this is not the case. I researched her, too. Apparently, she publishes under a pen name and I actually read two of her books last year. Her writing style is good, I gotta give her that. Still, I just feel queasy about it, like giving away one of my organs. Cause you still have to get 4500 people to buy your book, A. And you don't start making the big bucks until the number of sold copies reaches at least six figures. "What do you think?", I ask, looking up from my notes.
Taking a moment to comprehend everything that I just threw at her, Callie sits up straight in the armchair, her feet now firmly planted on the hardwood floor. "I think, I cannot make this decision for you, Arizona." Not what I wanted to hear, obviously. "I also think it is an amazing chance for you and I'm sure not taking it would rob many teenagers of the chance to read your book. There aren't many queer young adult novels out there, and maybe your story is exactly what someone somewhere in the world needs to shine a little more light on their confusing feelings." Her left arm reaches out, takes the papers out of my hand, and puts it on the side table next to hers. "You're stressing too much about numbers and what-ifs. What is your heart telling you?"
Honestly, I don't know. I feel like a kid on Christmas, I could jump up and down with joy. But at the same time, I am so afraid. Afraid that it flops, that it will look like a failure to my parents – who already think that I am wasting my time writing stories, that it will never pay for groceries or my bills – that it will discourage me from future projects. It is the first multi-chapter story and I poured my heart and soul into it. Oh God, what if critics will shred it to pieces? I have not even thought of that until now and my eyes widen in realization.
Sensing my inner turmoil, Callie's hand squeezes mine firmly. "I get that you are afraid, I do", she says, apparently able to hear my silent conversation. "And I was afraid too when I first put myself out there and went to auditions. But you are already one step ahead of me at the beginning of my career. You already have an agency that believes as much in your story as I do, maybe even more. The only thing left to do is take the leap and follow your dream."
Letting her words sink in, I can hear the gears in my head turning faster and faster. Callie is right. Of course, she is right, Robbins. If my story is good enough to convince a well-established publishing agent, it is time to get your words out there. "Okay", I say, "I'll call Eliza tomorrow and tell her that I'm ready to meet up with her and go over the last two things that I need to talk about with her." Minor things, really. Matthew mentioned that the contract does not limit the promotional work to local bookstores and that I should have that added unless I am okay with traveling. Good one, right? The idea of reading out loud to strangers in bookstores is really terrifying! And he recommends negotiating the amount of earned royalties per book, which is currently twenty percent of the book price, but he is certain I could get it up to twenty-five percent. Seeing that the price a book sells for can vary from state to state and from a bookstore to different retail stores, he said that it would only aid me in paying back the royalties.
"Why not call her right now?", Callie asks and hands me her phone.
I take a deep breath while I accept the phone handed to me and dial her number. At some point, I scribbled Eliza's number to the front page of the model of the contract. With all my doodles, notes and question marks on it, there is no way I could hand this one in, no matter how many times I would sign it. "Hey, Eliza, this is Arizona speaking. Do you have time to meet up Monday morning?" Awaiting her response, I eventually say agree, "Yeah, ten sounds good. I'll see you then. Bye."
This is it, Robbins. No more backing out.
A little before six in the evening, and just shy of two hours after Callie received a phone call from her father, letting her know that they were in town and inviting us for dinner, the car pulled up in front of the restaurant. Il Gabbiano is a very exquisite Italian restaurant. And when I say exquisite, I also mean very expensive. I looked up the menu online and the appetizers start at $25, for what looks like a spoonful of pasta. It also requires a certain wardrobe that I am not fully equipped with yet. So, after staring at my side of the closet for about 30 minutes while Callie was straightening her hair and adding some finishing touches to her make-up, I picked the midnight-blue dress I wore on her birthday. The only other fancy dress I own is the masterpiece I wore at the benefit gala, and while it is a very beautiful dress, I want to save it for special occasions. Maybe you should stock up on elegant clothes for future dinners with your girlfriend's parents, A.
Since Callie did not want to ask George to leave his daughter alone just because she needed a ride on such short notice, she called the agency and hired a driver for tonight, requesting a tinted partition for more privacy. When we first started dating, she once explained to me that she avoids taking a taxi if possible, for obvious reasons. "I don't think I've told you enough tonight, but you look absolutely stunning", Callie states, leaning over the middle seat in the back of the car. Mindful of our lipsticks, she breathes a kiss as light as feathers against my lips and before I have the chance to reciprocate, the touch is gone. "Let's go inside, my parents are probably already waiting."
Nodding because I know that Lucia and Carlos are never late, we make our way inside the restaurant and like predicted, my girlfriend's parents are already waiting for us. Both rise from their seats when they notice us and Lucia welcomes me with a warm hug as Carlos embraces his daughter. "Arizona, you look very beautiful", Lucia compliments me, "this color makes your crystal blue eyes shine even brighter."
Blushing, I give Carlos a hug as well before we all sit down. Conversation flows freely and l agile between Callie and her parents, so I sit back, content to just listen. Every now and then, one of the older Torres would reverse to Spanish which my favorite brunette quickly shuts down. Honestly, I don't mind it that much. I pick up a word here and there, and that is enough for me. Plus, hearing Callie speak her mother tongue is a major turn-on for me, I don't need to understand what is being said.
"How have you been doing, Arizona?", Carlos asks me after the waiter has taken our orders. Picking up his glass, he swirls the wine in it around for a few seconds before taking a sip. "Are you getting acquainted with Miami? It must be a big difference from Boston, and I am not talking about the lack of rain."
Sitting up straighter, I respond truthfully, "I really like Miami, Carlos. I miss my friends and family, but they are only a plane ride or phone call away and I would give up a lot more to be with Calliope. And, who would have guessed that I could have a tan without burning first?" Callie joins my chuckles. You should tell them the big news, A, I tell myself, and judging by the nudge of my girlfriend's elbow, she feels the same. "As of today, I officially scored myself a publishing contract."
"Arizona, that sounds wonderful!", Lucia gushes. "I hope Calliope kept her promise and had nothing to do with it?", she asks, her eyes zoning in on her own daughter.
Shaking her head, Callie held her hands up in defense. "Of course I didn't do anything, máma. I would never betray Arizona's trust like that." She shoots me a look of embarrassment and I just smile at her, reaching for her hand under the table. I never questioned it. Callie is one of the most honest people I have ever met and I know how unpleasant breaking a promise would make her feel.
"Splendid!" Her father's comment is accompanied by a single clap of his hands. He appears so much less scary compared to the first few seconds after I met him. "Say, when can we buy that book of yours? After all, we need to support our future daughter-in-law's career."
Wait. What? Did Callie mention anything to them? Did she pick out a ring? Don't freak out Arizona. Oh, shut up, brain, I freak out when I want to freak out. Seriously, though. Did my girlfriend talk to her parents about proposing? Isn't that way too soon? Turning my head to stare at the gorgeous Latina next to me, I try to say something but the ability to form words has completely left me.
"Dad!", the brunette half-yells at her father. "We are not there yet." Switching her focus to me, she repeats, "We are not there yet, Arizona. And I don't know what my father was thinking when he just said that. It is way too soon." Her words of reassurance are appeasing. Good thing we're on the same page. "One day, maybe", she finishes with a wink.
Chiming in, Lucia says, "Don't listen to him, dear. Just because we were raised in different times by very catholic families and were married before we moved into our first house together, does not mean we want the same for our children. Take your time, live a little and be very sure before you tie the knot. Just know that, whenever you two think that the time is right, you will have our blessings."
She might not know this, but her words mean a lot to me and I actually have to fight back the tears. "Thank you, Lucia, for welcoming me into your family like this."
"¡De nada", she replies with a smile. "Carlos had a good point, though. When can we buy your book? I'm looking forward to reading it."
Feeling my cheeks redden once again, this time from shock and discomfort, I gulp audibly. Have fun explaining all the M-rated chapters in your book, Robbins. I mean, of course they must suspect that Callie and I more than just share a bed in our home. But do I really want my future in-laws to know the technicalities about lesbian sex? That is a big Hell, no! Maybe I should make a parent-friendly, PG-rated version of the book? Maybe we should just scrape most of the naughty chapters to begin with. Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I should talk to Eliza about this when we meet on Monday. "Uhm, shortly before Thanksgiving", I reply just before the waiter comes around, bringing our dinner.
A/N: So, things are finally getting serious for Arizona. Will Eliza be an issue? Will Arizona manage to get her book ready in time?
Personal Note: I started working on my first actual novel, so that is taking away some time from fanfiction. No clue if it will work out or if agencies will deem it good enough, but I can at least try. But I am already working on the next chapter, so there's hope. And as I always say: I will finish my story and I'll stick with my promise. It might just take a little longer.
Stay healthy, guys.