Page 22 of Sweet Venom

I cleared my throat, offering a polite smile. “Hi, I?—”

She raised a single eyebrow, finally deigning to glance at me, her expression hovering somewhere between bored and mildly annoyed. “What do you need?” she asked flatly, her tone making it clear she was annoyed, and the day had just started.

Taken aback, I fumbled for my words. “Um, I’m Poe James. I have a meeting?—”

Before I could finish, she cut me off with a dismissive wave of her hand, her attention already drifting back to her screen. “Yes, yes, I know who you are. They’re expecting you.” She pointed toward a sleek seating area with plush black chairs and a low coffee table stacked with magazines. “Wait over there. Someone will come for you.”

My mouth opened, then closed. I nodded stiffly, biting back the urge to say something snarky. Instead, I shuffled toward the waiting area, clutching my bag a little tighter.

“Great first impression, Poe,” I muttered under my breath, sliding into one of the chairs. “Totally not awkward at all.”

I was still trying to process the black Valentine’s decor and the frosty reception from the desk lady when a loud, excited voice practically made me jump out of my seat.

“Oh my God! You’re Poe James!”

Startled, I glanced up to find a woman standing a few feet away, her pretty face lit up with an expression that could only be described as pure, unfiltered joy. She looked like she was in her forties, with stylishly messy curls, a brightly colored scarf draped around her neck, and a kind smile that softened the overwhelming energy radiating off her.

“Uh… yeah,” I said cautiously, blinking at her like she might be a mirage.

She clapped her hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. “I’m such a big fan of your work! Oh, I can’t believe I got to meet you in person! I so stalk your social media for news of your upcoming releases.”

Her enthusiasm was so genuine it threw me off balance. I blinked again, heat creeping up my neck. “Oh, um, thank you so much,” I managed, gripping the strap of my bag like it might anchor me to reality.

She grinned even wider, if that was possible, and it was almost infectious. “Your writing is just incredible! The way you craft characters—it’s so raw and emotional and—ugh, I’m fangirling, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself!”

I let out a small, nervous laugh, the corners of my lips tugging upward despite myself. “It’s okay. Really.”

Before I could say anything else, she plopped down in the seat across from me, leaning in like we were old friends about to share a secret. “I can’t wait to see what you’ll do with your next book. Everyone here is buzzing about it!”

Buzzing? About me? I glanced around, half-expecting someone to leap out with a camera yelling,Surprise, you’re ona prank show!But all I saw was the strange black Valentine’s setup and the intimidating glass walls.

“Thanks,” I said again, my voice quieter that time, still trying to figure out how to respond to someone who knew me—but who I had never met.

Whoever that woman was, her excitement felt so genuine that, for the first time since I had walked into that place, my nerves started to ease.

The woman’s grin somehow grew even brighter. “Would you mind signing something for me? My daughter and I are huge fans of your work.”

“Oh!” My face heated up instantly. “I mean, sure. Yeah, of course.”

She pulled a book from her bag—my book—and handed it to me with the kind of reverence usually reserved for priceless artifacts. I stared at the cover for a second, still not entirely used to seeing my name on it, before fumbling for a pen in my bag.

I flipped to the title page, my hand hovering awkwardly over the paper. “Uh, what should I write?”

“Anything! Just your name would be wonderful, but if you want to add something for my daughter, Emily, that’d be amazing.”

I nodded, my hand moving stiffly as I scrawled a quick, “To Emily—thank you for reading!” and then my signature. It felt weird, personal, but also kind of… nice? When I handed the book back to her, she looked at it like it was a treasure, holding it close to her chest.

“Thank you so much,” she said, her voice soft with gratitude. “This is going to make her year.”

I managed a shy smile. “I’m glad.”

Her expression shifted suddenly, like she had just remembered something important. “Oh, right! The boss is waiting for you.”

I blinked, confused. “The boss?”

She nodded, stood and gestured for me to follow. “Yep! He specifically said you’d be working with him. I thought you were going to work with a team, but I guess he must be a fan too.”

A fan? That didn’t sound right. My stomach did a little flip, half nerves, half disbelief. “I—I thought there was a team assigned to me?”

---