Kenny stood on the front porch and rang the bell. Diane stood next to him. Today, they were a united front, having dropped everything in New York to come down to North Carolina and resign the publishing house’s most important author. The door opened and Natalie Ratcliff smiled.

“What the hell is going on?” Natalie said. “Diane didn’t tell me you were coming with her, Kenny.”

Kenny Arnett shook Natalie’s hand. “Did you think I’d leave this negotiation up to anyone else?”

Natalie shook her head, eyeing Diane through squinted lids before giving her editor a giant hug. “Playing hardball?” she whispered into Diane’s ear.

“No,” Diane whispered back. “Just bringing the man who signs the checks. And it’s going to be a very big one.”

“Come on in,” Natalie said, releasing her grip.

Kenny and Diane followed Natalie through the sprawling home, decorated to perfection as if Joanna Gaines herself had worked her magic. In the kitchen, a football-field-sized island covered by a slab of treated concrete stood in the middle. Natalie opened a tall wine refrigerator. “I have a Tamber Bey rosé that will be perfect for a hot summer day.”

“I hope it’s perfect for a celebration, as well,” Kenny said.

“You two are really laying it on thick,” Natalie said.

“We want you to know how much you mean to us,” Diane said.

“Let’s sit on the patio.”

Natalie placed three wineglasses and the bottle of rosé onto a tray and they all made their way to the back patio, which offered a magnificent view of Lake Norman and the rolling mountain landscape in the distance.

“Wow,” Kenny said as soon as he stepped foot outside.

Diane shook her head as she took in the scenery. “Every time I visit you, this view gets more stunning.”

“Thank you. We love it, and it never gets old for us, either.” Natalie poured the wine. “Don just had some of the trees trimmed back.”

“How is Don?” Kenny asked.

Natalie and Don Ratcliff were the definition of a power couple, dominating both the publishing and business worlds. Don was the heir apparent to Ratcliff International Cruise Lines—RICL, pronounced “Rickle” throughout the industry. Most cruise boat enthusiasts had taken a RICL cruise at some point, many were fanatics who cruised with no other company. The Ratcliffs were worth billions. Natalie had married into wealth, and then found her own fortune through publishing novels.

“Good,” Natalie said. “He’s actually commandeering this house for the Fourth of July weekend and bringing in his top salespeople as a perk or SPIF, or whatever you call it.”

“You sound thrilled,” Diane said.