Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
She smirks. “A man of mystery, huh?
“That’s right. Women love a little mystery.”
“Right now, I’m kind of thinking mysteries are overrated. Give me a man who is open and honest over one who hides things. Actually, don’t give me a man at all. I think life would be better if I went on a dating hiatus. I can just focus on getting my book published. No distractions.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Your book?” I ask. Suddenly that little puzzle piece she handed me is taking shape. I think I might know exactly how it fits.
“Um, yeah. I still need to do a final round of edits. But I did finish a book. That’s part of what I came here to do. I wanted to pitch it to publishers.”
“You were dating the son of Landmark Publishing’s CEO. Did you try asking him?”
“No,” she says. “I didn’t want to take advantage of him. I was going to pitch it to some agents from Landmark and not tell them I was dating Vaughn. Now I’m guessing there’s no point. Once I end things, he would probably shut the book down even if I did get someone to agree to pitch it up the chain.”
“Pitch it to me,” I say.
She laughs, then her face goes serious. “Wait, really? Right now?”
“Sure. Do you have a sample I can read on your phone or something?”
She digs in her bag and produces a massive stack of printed papers. I laugh. “Printed manuscript? Nice.”
“It’s not finished with edits,” she warns. She’s clutching it to her chest like she isn’t sure if she really wants to hand it to me.
“Got it. Needs polish.”
“Are you going to just like… read it right now?”
“I’ll read the first chapter or two, just like I would if you submitted it to me formally.”
She takes a deep breath, then hands it to me.
I look at the page. “What Have You Done: A Psychological Thriller by Charli McBride”.
“I like the title,” I say.
She’s smiling now, and she also looks like she could possibly throw up. She sits quietly, almost like she can’t bear to look at me as I read the book.
I crack open the manuscript and start reading. She has tight writing. She’s avoiding most of the tell-tale signs of a writer who isn’t quite ready for the big show. It doesn’t seem like she’s trying to convince anybody that she’s Hemingway or that she has the biggest vocabulary on Earth. She’s choosing simple language when it works best and focusing on building tension, character, and suspense.
By the end of the second chapter, I can already see the threads she’s stringing together to lead my interest through the book. I have questions about the main cast of characters, guesses about where it might go, and a motivation to find out.
If she didn’t look like she was about to explode with nerves beside me, I would probably keep reading just for the enjoyment of the story. It’s good. And shit, I can’t believe an opportunity this perfect has fallen into my lap.
“Alright,” I say, standing and handing her the manuscript.
“Alright?” she asks. She’s clutching the manuscript to her chest so tight it’s crumpling at the edges.
“Yeah, come with me. I extend my hand toward her.
She looks at it like a live grenade.
I give an impatient jerk of my head and pull the door open to the convention center. “Come on. It’s now or never.”
She doesn’t take my hand, but she does follow after me when I open the door and gesture for her to step in.
I stop her just inside. “Act like you know what I’m talking about when we go in there. Understand?”
“No?”
“Great. Come on.” I pause. I notice Vaughn Vanderlesh and his father standing and talking with a young girl not too far away. Charli’s situation clicks into place. She said they were already over, even though Vaughn doesn’t know it yet. It didn’t make a ton of sense until I saw the girl he’s with. His arm is around her waist possessively.
He’s cheating, and Charli caught them.
I didn’t think it was possible, but my hatred for Vaughn ramps up to an entirely new level. Vaughn spots me and looks away from the conversation to glare. Then he notices who I’m walking with.
I almost laugh at the way his whole face contorts in confusion, rage, and hurt.
His mouth falls open and he turns his whole body, hands falling to his sides. He looks like one step away from sinking to his knees like the guy at the end of Planet of the Apes. I can almost imagine him raising clenched fists to the sky and shouting a dramatic, “Noooo!”
He feels that much anger just to see me walking next to Charli? It makes me think how hard I could press his buttons if we leaned into this closeness–of how much it would destroy him if it was more than just walking side by side. What if he knew she was coming back to my bedroom every night?