Poison Pen

by Jacquelin Thomas

  “What did your former best friend say?”

  “She’s been making comments about authors who criticize other’s literary work. Kaile seems to think that authors who do this are petty and jealous.”

  “And you really think that she’s talking about you?” Pip asked. “Not everything is about you.”

  “I know she is. She and I had words last month over some feedback I gave her on that disgrace of a novel. I told her the truth. It’s not my fault she couldn’t handle it. I was merely trying to keep her from becoming an embarrassment.”

  “Telling Kaile that her book sucked wasn’t exactly the right way to get your point across, sis. You wouldn’t leave it there. You had to send her a price list for your writing workshops. You were supposed to be her friend, sis.”

  “I’m not one for sugarcoating my words—never have been. As for the classes, she’d be a much better writer if she took some of my workshops. I know how to write,” Harini said. “Matter of fact, I’m one of the best writers I know. That’s why so many authors come to me for help. They just have to understand that you can’t have thin skin in this business. It’s better for me to tell them that their book is horrible than to have readers posting one-star reviews.”

  Harini eyed the computer screen. “I got something for Kaile though,” she uttered. “I heard she paid somebody else to write that book for her—that’s why she struggled so much with the revisions.”

  “Do you really want to co-sign on a rumor?” Pip asked. “One that you have no proof of being true.”

  Harini ignored her brother while her fingers flew over the keyboard.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Too late. It’s out there.”

  People want to call themselves a writer, but instead of putting pen to paper—they hire someone else to do the work. That’s fine if a person wants to do that, but at least find someone who can ACTUALLY write. Remember, you get what you pay for.

  “Was that really necessary?” Pip asked.

  “Well, it’s true,” Harini said. “If you gonna pay someone to write a book for you, find someone who knows how to write.”

  “You do know that you can be sued for slander.”

  “It’s not slander if it’s true, Pip.”

  “You don’t know that?”

  “I do because the person who did the job told me. She also told me that she had to threaten to put Kaile on blast just to get all her money. She sent me a screenshot of their agreement.”

  “You know what this really is about. You’re just mad that Kaile didn’t ask you to ghostwrite the book.”

  “She would’ve had a bestseller if I’d done it.”

  “And she’d be paying you half of her royalties in addition to your standard fee.”

  Harini nodded in agreement. “Of course. I don’t come cheap.”

  “You’re headed down the wrong path, sis.”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Keep telling yourself that. The truth is that you don’t know how to be a real friend.”

  “I have a meeting with Edna tomorrow,” Harini announced, abruptly changing the subject. “She’s coming to Philly.”

  Surprise registered on Pip’s face. “Your agent is coming to town?”

  Harini nodded. “That’s what she said. She wants to have lunch. I have a feeling that it’s going to be about my sales. I’ve already contacted a marketing specialist for some advice.”

  He scanned her face. “You look worried.”

  “I’m not,” Harini said. “My new book seems to be doing pretty well. I am gonna ask Edna why there is only six cities on my tour. They shortened it this year.”

  “Likely because of your numbers on the last two books.”

  He was telling her something she already knew. “I’m gonna get something to eat.” Harini picked up a menu. “I’m in the mood for Thai food. What about you?”

  Her brother shrugged in nonchalance. “Sure. That’s fine.”

  Harini hadn’t been completely honest with Pip. Deep down, she was worried about this meeting with Edna. The only time her agent wanted to meet in person was to deliver news about her sales or to request major revisions to a proposal. Harini didn’t care for either topic because it implied that she had failed in some way. If her mother were still alive, Harini could hear her complaining about her imperfections; and bemoaning her embarrassment and humiliation.

  I’d like to see her sit down and write a book. It wasn’t as easy as everyone thought.

  Harini couldn’t understand why she could never please her parents. Nothing she ever did brought a smile to her parent’s faces. She was never good enough.

  She shook the painful thoughts from her mind. Harini didn’t want to think about such sad things right now. She needed to prepare mentally for the meeting with Edna. She had to convince her agent that she could still deliver a bestselling novel.

  Harini stared at what she’d written on the computer—it was good, but it could be so much better. I know I can do this. I just need to get out of my own head. I’m overthinking it.

  Her stomach protested, reminding her that she never ordered dinner. Harini ordered the pineapple duck entrée from Xiandu. “Thank God for online ordering,” she whispered, rising to her feet.

  She left her office.

  “Pip, I’m going to pick up dinner. You want to ride with me?” Harini asked, forcing a calm demeanor.

  “I’ll be here when you get back,” he responded.

  Harini picked up her purse and keys. “Okay then.”

  She bit down on her bottom lip, but not enough to draw blood. Harini was not looking forward to her meeting with Edna.

  Downstairs, she waited for the attendants to bring her car to the front entrance.

  Nervously, Harini paced the marble floor.

  Her apprehension increased during the eight-minute drive to the restaurant. “This is ridiculous,” she told herself. “I don’t have anything to worry about. Everything is gonna be fine. I can handle Edna.”

  The moment arrived.

  Harini strolled into the Rittenhouse Hotel and headed straight to the Lacroix restaurant inside. She loved the charm and rich history of the luxury hotel in Center City. After her first book made USA Today, Harini spent a weekend in one of the well-appointed rooms, wanting to experience the fine dining and invigorating spa treatments.

  “Hello Edna…” she greeted before taking a seat at the table. Harini did a quick assessment of the expensive suit her agent wore. She’s able to afford clothes like that because of me.

  “It’s good to see you, Harini. I know you’re leaving town tomorrow for your tour, but I wanted to see you before you left.” Edna brushed away a long blond curling tendril.

  “I appreciate you coming to see me off like this.”

  A waiter walked up to take their drink orders.

  “Sales have been down for your last two books,” Edna stated when he left the table.

  “Well, Mrs. Ex just came out.” Harini took a long sip of water. “I’m feeling pretty good about it. It’s the forth book in the series.”

  “Presales weren’t where they usually are,” Edna picked up her menu. “I think it’s time to let that series come to an end. I met with your editor last week. Snyder and James want to see something new from you.”

  Harini frowned. “I still have at least two more books for this series.”

  Edna shook her head. “They want new material, Harini.”

  She leaned forward, saying, “I’ve made Snyder and James a lot of money.”

  “Not with the last two books.”

  “Mrs. Ex will make up for that.” Harini folded her arms over her nervous stomach.

  Edna didn’t seem as confident. “I hope so.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Harini uttered while trying to contain her frustration. “I’ve written five books for them—all of them have been on a bestsellers list. I’ve been nominated four times for the Global Literary Award and won twice. Yet Snyd
er and James are ready to kick me to the curb because of low sales on the last two books.” She glared at Edna. “You’re supposed to have my back. Snyder and James haven’t done all they could do on their end, and don’t forget I told them that cover on the last book was going to hurt sales. I was right.”

  “This is why I’m here, Harini. Why we’re having this conversation.”

  “I have to tell you that I’m not feeling appreciated.”

  “Snyder and James are still behind you, but you know how this works, Harini. It’s about the numbers.”

  “Sales are down all around, Edna. You know this…”

  The waiter returned with pen and paper in hand.

  “I’ll have the Maine lobster roll,” Harini said, although she didn’t have much of an appetite.

  “The turkey club,” Edna interjected.

  While waiting for their food to arrive, Harini eyed her agent. “So, if I want another contract, I’m going to have to come up with something new, something fresh.”

  “Yes,” Edna stated.

  She sighed. “I really don’t like feeling pressured. It doesn’t help my creativity.”

  “You’re a prolific author, Harini. I have every confidence that you’ll be able to come up with a new story—something fresh. One that your readers will love.”

  When the waiter returned with their entrees, Harini forced down her meal and struggled to remain pleasant, although she was disappointed with Edna.

  The woman was supposed to have her back. She was supposed to fight for her. Harini felt betrayed. She silently debated whether or not it was time to shop for a new representation.

  “How did it go with Edna?” Pip asked when Harini stormed into the house, flinging her purse on the sofa.

  “Not well at all.” Biting her bottom lip, Harini sank down on the soft, buttery leather sofa. “I’m so angry right now, I could spit blood.”

  “What happened?”

  “She told me that the publisher wants me to come up with new material. They want Mrs. Ex to be the last book in the series.”

  “I take it that you don’t like this idea.”

  “You know how hard it is for me to come up with solid storylines, Pip. I can’t deal with this right now. And Edna… instead of fighting for me, she’s agreeing with them.”

  “Your sales have gone down.”

  “You think I don’t know…” Harini snapped. “I heard this all afternoon from Edna.”

  “Sis, she’s on your side. Don’t forget that.”

  “Is she really?”

  “You’re upset right now.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Harini muttered. “I need a glass of wine.”

  “It’s not a bad thing.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Pip. It’s giving me a headache.” Harini rose to her feet and made her way to the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of white wine.

  I just can’t believe this. Nobody has any loyalty anymore.

  Harini sipped her wine slowly as she worked to relax her body. She’d been tense all day.

  What I need is a nice massage.

  She made a mental note to schedule an appointment with her favorite spa.

  Harini remained in a funk for the rest of the afternoon. The fact that she didn’t have a man in her life only added to her frustration. She didn’t even have a friend she could call to vent.

  Life just wasn’t fair.

  Chapter 5

  Bailey drew her finger along the rim of her navy and white coffee mug as she fantasized how her meeting with Harini later that evening would go. If God decided to answer her fervent prayer, she would soon join the ranks of published authors. She had faith that it was her calling.

  Her eyes traveled the length of the crowded cafeteria. Bailey enjoyed her job, but working claims was not something she wanted to do until she reached retirement age. She was born to be a writer.

  Outside the building, the wind shrieked, and rain poured. In weather like this, accidents happened, and claims were higher than normal.

  “Girl, I just got off the phone with a customer,” Cassidy said, taking a seat across from Bailey. “She never read her policy, so she didn’t know that she didn’t have rental and a high deductible. She was yelling at me like it was my fault. I had to conference her agent in because she thought I was lying to her.”

  “I had one of those calls earlier,” Bailey responded. “I can’t wait to get this day over with. I’m meeting with Harini on Monday.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “She called me just before I left to come in here.” Bailey glanced over at the giant chalkboard sign filled with menu items that hung on the wall behind the counter. “I think I’m going to have the fish and chips.”

  “Me, too,” Cassidy responded.

  They rose to their feet and got in line to order their food.

  Bailey eyed the soft sage-colored walls, the bright lighting a warm, flattering shade of gold.

  “Did Colton propose or something?” Cassidy asked. “You been walking around grinning all day.”

  After they had gotten their food and returned to the table, Cassidy said, “I hope you don’t get mad at me for saying this, but Bailey… I’m just not sure about Harini. There’s something about her I don’t trust.”

  “You don’t know her.”

  “No, I don’t,” Cassidy agreed, “but I watched her at the book signing and I’m sorry, all that stuff she was doing and saying; it was just an act. She’s fake. I used to follow her on social media and she’s a trip.”

  “She was a little over the top, but maybe this is how she engages her readers. And you’re right. She can be a bit controversial, but the woman knows how to write.” Bailey smiled. “Besides, I like people who have no problem telling it like it is.”

  “I’m all for being honest, but I don’t agree with character assassinations and public humiliation. This is what she does to anyone who doesn’t agree with her or confronts her about something. She sets out to destroy them.”

  “Cass, what’s your problem?” Bailey questioned. “Why do you have to be so negative? This is an opportunity to help get my own book published. If connecting with Harini is the way to do that, then I’m going to take a chance with her.”

  “She’s an Internet bully.”

  “But you have to admit that she isn’t always the one starting the drama. Harini just doesn’t back down.”

  “But why does it have to play out for the world to see? I just don’t like stuff like that.”

  “Neither do I,” Bailey confessed. “But I’m not going to judge her. Is that why you didn’t buy a copy of her book? Because she starts drama.”

  “I didn’t buy one because I don’t care for them. You love her writing, but I don’t. I only went to the signing to hang out with you and Maurie.”

  Bailey wiped her mouth on her napkin. “She’s been nothing but nice to me, Cass.”

  She did not respond.

  “I have a really good feeling about this,” Bailey said. It was okay that Cass didn’t like Harini—she was mature enough to understand that there were some in her social circle whose personalities might not mesh well. It had nothing to do with her.

  “Okay,” Cassidy responded. “If you have peace about it, then go with it. Just make sure that you’re not blinded by the fact that you want this so badly.”

  Later that evening, Bailey gave Maurie a recap of her conversation with Cassidy.

  “I’m afraid I have to agree with Cass. Harini can be the queen of petty. You need to be careful who you align yourself with.”

  “I’m smart enough to stay away from the drama. I’m just focused on getting my book published, and Harini can help me with that.”

  “Be careful of what you tell her,” Maurie warned. “‘Cause if you piss her off, she just might use the information against you.”

  “I’m not stupid,” Bailey said. “Besides I don’t have any scandalous secrets hidden away. I don’t
have anything for Harini to hold over my head.”

  “I’m having dinner with Bailey tonight,” Harini announced. “I’m meeting her at The Fountain, although I’d rather be dining at LaCroix, however, I’m sure Bailey can’t afford the appetizers much less a main entrée.”

  “When did you become such a snob? I remember when eating at McDonalds was a treat.”

  “Those days are long gone, Pip,” she said, her mouth tightened.

  “Sis, you need to rethink this,” he stated. “I know what you’re planning.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I’m just gonna be her mentor,” Harini responded, “and why shouldn’t I? She looks up to me like a loyal subject. I’m the queen of African American Fiction.”

  “Sis come down off that pedestal. Let’s keep it real. Bailey simply respects the woman you portray. You and I both know who you really are, Harini.”

  She glared at him. “I’m so tired of people judging me. Mother and Father judged me… these nobodies try and now you…”

  “Then stop what you’re doing,” Pip said. “Stop looking for dirt on other authors; stop writing nasty reviews on books you haven’t even read… just stop. It’s like you get off on shaming folk. It’s not right.”

  “I do try to read those books—they’re just not well written. I’ve studied my craft for years and I’m still working hard to perfect it. I just ordered a new set of writing reference books this morning.”

  “Yet, you can’t write a story from start to finish without help.”

  Her brother’s words stung. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

  “I did,” Pip responded. “I will always tell you the truth. Most of your problem is that you’re very insecure when it comes to your writing. You want to be the best at everything—number 1. When are you going to get it that none of that stuff matters.”

  “It never mattered to you,” Harini snapped. “Everything has always come easy for the golden child. Our parents thought you could do no wrong.”

  “And this is where it got me.”

  Silence.

  “Pip…”

  “You should get back to work,” he said, “you need to get something to your agent.”