Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
“Wait, question.” I open the door. “As my agent, who got like fifteen percent of my advance, shouldn’t you surrender that money, too? Aren’t we in this together?”
“Get the hell out of the car, Heather.”
“I’m just saying…”
“Now.”
I resist saying anything else and step out of the car. Thanks to Joanna’s connection, Human Resources fast-tracked me to an interview for junior editing executive, and from the other potential jobs I have on deck—this one is the best.
It also pays six figures.
Granted, I’ll have to save over forty percent of every check, but still…
They didn’t seem to ask anything about me being an author for them, and I didn’t offer it either.
As I approach the entrance, I stop at the massive wolf statue that’s guarding the doors. The beast is standing on its hind legs and baring its teeth. It’s also surrounded by sculpted dead sheep.
This might be an omen.
Stalling, I look over my shoulder and back at Joanna’s car.
She’s flicking her hand, mouthing, “GET INSIDE!”
I continue hesitating.
Ever since I signed my book deal with this place, I’ve remained in awe that the CEO never placed a picture of himself on the website.
There are only pictures of his “team” and a short bio that’s never been updated, but one that comes at the bottom of every monthly newsletter they send.
Adrian Wolfson has been an avid reader since he was three years old, and he was born to publish great books.
“Get in the goddamn building now!” Joanna screams from behind.
I brush away all my thoughts and head inside.
The moment my heels hit the marble floor, a woman in a cream-colored blouse and matching pencil skirt rushes toward me.
“Are you Heather B?” she asks. “Here for an interview?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Wow. You’re twenty minutes early, just like Mr. Wolfson likes.” She shakes my hand. “He’ll love you based on this fact alone.”
“Good to know.”
“Do you know what’s better than breathing, Heather?” She’s still shaking my hand. “The thing that keeps our hectic and crazy world spinning around and around?”
“Uh…” I blink. “Love?”
“Stories!” She beams, releasing her death grip. “It’s stories! Good, unputdownable, and in some cases—hot and sexy—stories. The ones about serial killers and murders are good, too, though.”
The dead sheep tried to warn me…
“I’m Theresa, and I’m part of the initial family business here, but between you and me, I consider myself to be a professional book devourer.” She pauses. “They’re my form of orgasms.”
I nod, unsure of how I should respond to that.
“Anyway, what’s your full name?” she asks. “Is it really Heather B?”
“Heather Barrett.”
“Oh, wow. We publish an author here by that name. Well, not her pen name, but—”
“That’s me as well.” I’d rather her send me home now instead of this coming up to kill my chances later. “Allyson Harmony is my pen name, but I’m trying to work here for personal reasons if that’s alright.”
The smile on her face slowly fades, and she stares at me for several moments without saying a word.
Without even blinking.
Point taken. “Can you validate my friend’s parking before I go? Twenty-five dollars for five minutes seems a bit high.”
“I’m obsessed with your books.” Her smile returns. “Like, I have your entire backlist on my shelf, but I reread your office romance like once a month and on my lonely nights if I haven’t had sex in a while.”
“I, um, appreciate that very much.”
“For what it’s worth, it wasn’t my choice not to give you an extension.” She shoots me a sympathetic look. “But I think it’s so cool that you’re willing to work here to pay it back. That’s—truly admirable and humble.”
I’m doing it for the money. “So, if I were to get this job, I’d be working directly with you?”
“Ha! No.” She snorts. “I mean, you’d see me a lot, but you’d be more of a liaison between the CEO and the editorial department. Now that I know you know quite a bit about bestsellers, let’s just do a tour and you’ll interview with Mr. Wolfson.”
Before I can ask anything else, she loops her hand in mine like we’re lifelong friends and escorts me to the elevator.
“Soooo—” Her eyes light up as she presses the ‘up’ button. “Do you happen to have a draft of The Final Terms lying around anywhere? I can totally beta read for you, if you want…”
“I’ll think about it,” I say. “After it gets in better condition.”
“What condition is it in right now?”
“Um…” I bite my tongue as the doors glide open.
“Let’s start the tour with a view of our reading nook floor.” She drops the subject of me being an author and escorts me through faux trees that hold hammocks and couches where workers are reading books.
Then she shows me to a floor with a café, where employees are flipping through magazines.
Okay. This job might not be so bad after all.