Page 168 of Darling Venom
Kellan knew her best.
Charlotte Richards is Venom.
I finished editing Darling Venom last night.
Three rounds, multiple proofs, and a ton of all-nighters. I’d never felt more accomplished in my life.
Never felt more tired either.
“You okay?” Abigail stopped by my desk with a mug of hot tea. She set it down, careful to avoid nearing a stack of paper. “You look exhausted.”
“I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Passion project.”
“Dayum. A manuscript?”
I nodded but didn’t elaborate. She took the hint, returning to her office.
To be honest, it wasn’t just Darling Venom that consumed me. Tate ignored me now, and I couldn’t pinpoint why. I’d thought we’d come to a truce over dinner, but his behavior had become… different.
Was it the letter?
It always seemed to come back to that. I couldn’t give it to him.
What could I tell him? That his brother wrote me a goodbye letter and didn’t mention him at all except to call him “that asshole”?
It was such a Kellan thing to do, I didn’t know whether to get angry or cry.
I did neither, pulling out my wallet and retrieving what I needed. A business card. I fingered it, staring at the gold foil like I expected it to bite me. The light glinted off Helen Moriuchi’s name.
For all I knew, her invitation to cough up a manuscript had been a nicety. Like a “see you again” you threw to a distant acquaintance, knowing you had no intention of ever seeing them again.
My pulse thrummed against my neck. I picked up the phone, entered her number, and stopped myself from pressing call. If I did this, it cemented my commitment to completing Kellan’s manuscript.
There was no going back.
I would be locked in. Revoked of my ability to step down.
I pressed call.
Helen answered in two rings. “Helen Moriuchi speaking.”
“Hi, Helen.” I cleared my throat. The phone slipped a bit. I gripped it again in my clammy palm. “It’s Charlotte Richards… from Rothschild Literary and Management.”
“Charlotte.” Her voice was welcoming, which helped. “I hear Reagan gave birth last night.”
“She did. She’ll be able to accept visitors soon.”
“I’ve already put it in my planner. So, how can I help you? I’m sure you didn’t call just to talk about Reagan. Do you have a manuscript for me?”
“Actually, I do.” I released a breath, almost forgetting to inhale. “I think it’s the one you’ve been hunting for. The big one. The game changer.”
“I’m intrigued. Does this manuscript have a name?”
“Darling Venom. I can’t adequately describe it in words. It’s a love story that never happened. Social commentary on life and human decency and survival. The readability is up there. The author is sharp-witted, quick, and easy to follow. I think you’ll fall in love with the manuscript like I did.”
“Anything of the author’s I can look up?”
“He’s a debut.”
