Page 20 of Kill Your Darlings

And now, Lila was also upset.She bristled.“I’m not sure what that means.What do you imagine is happening here?This is standard operating procedure, Keiran.It’s about projecting a united front.It’s about…it’s about team building.”

Only if getting torn apart in the same arena by the same lions counted as teamwork.

Anyway, we both knew this was all total bullshit.It wasn’t about team building.It wasn’t about projecting a united front.It wasn’t about reassuring authors that everything would be okay in the end, and if it wasn’t okay, it wasn’t the end.This salvo was strictly about giving Lila an opportunity to introduce herself to my authors, the better to cherry pick my list.

Maybe Vaughn had some vague idea that Lila and I would sit down together, put our egos aside, and try to figure out a way to match authors according to our own strengths and weaknesses.But I was pretty sure Lila’s view was that she would decide who was expendable on her list and anyone and everyone on mine was up for grabs.I was pretty sure, because I felt the same way about my list.

I got myself back under control, even managed a tight smile.“I’m all for team building, Lila.And you’re right.There’s a lot of unease and anxiety about the merger.”

“Exactly.We should be thinking of what’s best for ourauthors—”

I kept right on talking.

“Just like you, I’ve spent years building relationships with my authors.They know me.They trust me.What message do you think it sends if I show up to a meeting where they’re hoping I’m going to listen to and address their concerns—and I’ve suddenly got a corporate s-sidekick listening in?”

She said coldly, “I’m not and will never be your sidekick, Keiran.”

No.And my first word choice had beenstooge.That would have gone over even better.

“No, you’re not.You’re the senior editor with a publishing house they don’t know, didn’t submit their work to, and maybe haven’t heard the best things about.”

Her brows formed a straight and forbidding black line across her forehead.“At leastwe’resolvent.At leastourauthors will get paid.”

I ignored that.Millbrook had never not paid its authors.Some of the staff had been paid late this last year.Not the authors.

“If you don’t trust me, then sure.You’re welcome to sit in on breakfasts, lunches, and dinners with every single one of my authors.”I winked.“Especially, if you’re going to pick up our meal tabs.”

She was not amused.But then, neither was I.

Lila said, “I had no idea you were so paranoid.”

I retorted, “Neither did I.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment, but then, as we reached the fifth floor and the belldinged, she finally noticed the elevator was going up not down.She gaped at the floor indicator panel.“Where are we going?”She turned to me.“Did you book a luxury suite?Is Millbrook paying for yoursuite?”

“I paid for my own room.”I got off the elevator, glanced back at her tight face.“Paranoia must be catching,” I said.

Satisfying in the moment, but stupid.Stupid to antagonize her.

I had enough problems without going out of my way to make enemies.

More enemies.

Soaping my chest and underarms beneath the steaming rainfall spray in the oversized marble walk-in shower, I mentally ran through the day’s schedule.

Breakfast with Christopher.

Coffee with Lila?Doubtful.

Cherry, my PA, was arriving around eleven.It was her first conference, so we’d need to go through some things.

Lunch with Connie and Gwen Dove, the sister writing team who did the Bookmobile & Beyond Mysteries.Greta Merriweather delivers books—and uncovers bodies!That one would be difficult.W&W felt sales had been soft for the last three books in the series.They’d already decided not to pick up the option on the next book.

Depending on how things went with the ladies, I hoped to catch Scottish crime writer Thomas McGregor’s interview.If necessary, I could skip that.

Finn’s interview with Rudolph was at three-thirty.That one I could definitely draw a line through, which meant I could leave for Steeple Hill right after the McGregor showcase.Or even after lunch.

The W&W banquet was scheduled to begin at seven—well, cocktails at seven, the dinner itself was eight, which gave me…not a hell of a lot of time to be poking around Steeple Hill before I had to make the drive back to Monterey.But how much time would it take to hear what a potential blackmailer had to say?

---