Poison Pen

Chapter 60

Sleepily, Kate reaches out to Rick as he slips into bed. "You've been up most of the night. What were you doing?"

"Another rewrite on 'Poison Pen.' I was shifting the focus to emphasize the impact of the written word more strongly."

"Did you finish it?"

"Yeah, I think I did. It makes the point now without sacrificing the stories."

"Black Pawn should be happy."

"I decided not to send it to Black Pawn. They have the first refusal of my detective and spy novels, but this is a literary work. I want a more serious imprint, so I'll have Paula shop it around."

"Well, good luck and get some sleep. The Sewards are being sentenced tomorrow — today now. You want to go, don't you?"

Rick wraps himself around Kate, nuzzling her hair. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Wow!" Castle exclaims, bounding down the courthouse steps. "Did you see the look on Merri's face? I don't know who she wanted to kill more, the judge or her brother."

"My money would be on killing Winston," Kate offers. "I'm not sure we could have nailed her if he hadn't told us about the crowbar. The forensics really cinched the case."

"Uh-huh. It would be fun to write about a forensic scientist, but I think between Bones and all the CSI spin-offs, that franchise is pretty well sewn up. That reminds me. I want to check and see if Paula's had any nibbles yet."

"This soon? You only emailed her the book a few hours ago."

"That woman does not let any grass grow under her designer pumps. She may have pushed her way into Haven, Bradford, and Frost already. They handle some of the literary heavyweights. If they take the book, I'll be playing with the big boys."

"Anything?" Kate asks as Rick scrolls through his texts.

"Let's go sit on our bench. Paula wants me to call her."

Rick thumbs the speaker button, but adjusts the volume on his phone down so passing pedestrians can't hear it. Paula picks up on the first ring. "Ricky! It's about time! Listen, I'm meeting with HBF tomorrow at nine, and they want you there to make sure you're serious. The only excuse I'll accept for you not showing up is death, meaning that I'll kill you myself."

"And there would go your 15%," Rick teases. "I'll be there."

"You better be," Paula warns.

"Except for the part about your agent killing you, that sounded promising," Kate remarks.

"It did," Rick agrees, "but I haven't been this nervous about a business meeting since Black Pawn picked up 'In a Hail of Bullets.'"

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" Kate offers.

"Always," Rick responds, entwining his fingers with hers, "but also, the dry cleaner messed up my lucky tie. Can you help me pick out a new one?"

Kate kisses the tip of his nose. "Sure, I'd be happy to."

Castle braces himself under the gaze of Wilhelmina Haven, granddaughter of the company's founder, William Haven. "Mr. Castle, I admit that I was skeptical when Ms. Haas approached us, especially given the title of your book. Your previous work would hardly have been a fit with HBF."

Rick resists the urge to pull at his collar. "I'm aware of HBF's literary niche."

"However," Haven continues, "when our gatekeeper passed on a sample chapter of Poison Pen to me, I was pleasantly surprised. I believe that your book could do quite well with our readers. You also have the name recognition to bring in new ones. I would expect you, however, to work with one of our editors on revisions that will help you better fit our brand."

"As long as I have final approval before it goes to press," Castle declares. "I'm the one the readers will hold responsible for the book, for better or worse. It will have to be a reflection of my vision, not an editor's."

Haven's gaze darkens. "We don't generally do business that way, Mr. Castle, especially with new authors. We have a reputation to uphold."

"I'm only new to you," Ms. Haven," Castle points out. "I've written 23 bestsellers. If you won't accept my terms, I'm sure Ms. Haas will have no difficulty finding a publishing house that will."

Wilhelmina draws herself up in her chair. "I doubt that will be necessary, Mr. Castle. I'm sure we can come to a mutual understanding."

"Ms. Haven I believe that we understand each other quite well." Rick pushes away from the conference table. "You can work out the details with Ms. Haas. I have other matters that require my attention."

"Babe, are you going to be sick?" Kate asks as Rick drops into his chair with his head in his hands.

"I already was," Rick admits, "after I stood up to Wilhelmina Haven. She's a legend in the publishing world for inheriting her grandfather's iron hand and steel plating it. No one argues with her."

"Except you?"

"She wanted to take away control of my work. Kate, it's one thing to write for a popular genre. I've sold a lot of books and made a lot of money doing it. But I feel like Poison Pen is my chance to step up, to do more than tell exciting tales. I'm not about to let Wilhelmina Haven or anyone else screw with that. If I fail, the failure will be all mine. But if I succeed, the success will also belong to me, not one of HBF's editors. Can you understand that?"

"That you need Castle to be Castle? I wouldn't want you to agree to anything else. Would you like me to make you some tea or something? I think there's some of that herbal stuff Jenny makes Ryan drink, in the breakroom."

Rick gags. "That would probably make me sick again. I'll just sit here a while and watch my exquisite bride-to-be at work."

Kate points to a stack of witness statements. "If you feel up to it, while you're watching, maybe you can put these in date and alphabetical order."

"That would be my very great pleasure."

As Kate closes the door to the loft behind them, Rick spies a pile of glossy magazines on the table. "Oh no, it appears that Mother's been at it again. I don't know why. She knows we have our venue."

"She did ask me last night if I'd given any thought to my wedding gown," Kate recalls, picking up the top publication on the pile. "Yeah, that must be it. This is a special designer issue of Bridal Monthly. Wow, there's enough lace on that cover gown to trim ten dresses. It looks like a layer cake — without the chocolate raspberry." She flips through the pages. "And some of these have more crystals than a chandelier. I don't want Lanie and Sophia to have to hold up my dress so I can pee, and I want to be able to dance with my husband without worrying about anything falling off of me. I don't think any of these designers have heard that 'Less is more."

"I think they're afraid that the 'less' might apply to the prices of their creations," Castle suggests. "Hmm, maybe you could get a white wet suit to go with your swimming with dolphins fantasy. I could get one to match. On the other hand, we'd have to take those off to pee, too. Listen, we found the venue of your dreams. You can find the dress of your dreams too. I can take you shopping if you want, or just give you my credit card, like Richard Gere in 'Pretty Woman.' Or do you want to go with Lanie or your cousin?"

"No, Martha's just trying to help. I'll see if she wants to go."

"Thanks, Kate. I'm obviously not the only one around here who can be sweet. Bonus, Mother can teach a master's class in using my credit cards."

Kate shakes her head. "It will be my dress. I think I'd rather use my own."