Veronica // Heathers Fanfiction

I

The man's backpack accidentally hit her in the face for the third time since she entered the elevator. Betty couldn't help but huff at him as she tried to dodge the object, her usual calm temper had been lost somewhere along the fourth floor. But that's what she got for accepting a meeting scheduled at 8 a.m., she supposed: a crowded elevator that reeked of body spray, cheap coffee, and the dwindling will to live of everybody inside of it.

Finally, the number 17 appeared on the panel, followed by the metal doors of the elevator opening. Relieved, Betty squeezed herself through the other suit-clad bodies. Once she was out, she straightened her blazer and ran a hand through her honey-colored hair, to put every disheveled strand back in place. She looked down at her watch: 07:56, right on time.

Pauline Fleming, her agent, was already waiting for her at the entrance, her left hand on her hip like she was ready to scold her. "I was afraid you were going to be late again," Pauline says in lieu of a greeting, "The client is already here." She put a hand on Betty's back, ushering her inside quickly; based on how frantic Pauline looked, Betty decided not to mention that she had red lipstick in her teeth. Her agitation was understood, however. This might have been a normal thing to other people in her businesses, a mundane meeting to deal with like every other, but to her, it was a big deal.

The air conditioner inside Sherwoods Publisher was strong, a relief to Betty, who felt herself relaxing almost immediately as the cold air invaded her lungs and cooled down her sweating body. She followed Ms. Fleming to one of the office's meeting rooms. There were three men seated at the table, Betty recognized two of them from other meetings she had been to, but not enough to remember their names.

"Elizabeth, as you might know, this is Mr. Gowan, the senior editor of Sherwood Publisher, and Mr. McCord, our lawyer," Pauline started, the two men got up from their seats to shake hands with Betty as soon as their names were called. Fleming gestured to the third man, the one Betty didn't know. Like the other two, he wore a black suit, but he didn't look comfortable in it like he wasn't used to wearing such fancy clothes. Unlike Gowan and McCord, who were both in their fifties, this one appeared to be in his early thirties. "And this is Mr. Jason Dean, our client."

Betty exchanged a polite handshake with him as well, then found herself a seat at the table, with Pauline seated next to her and the men seated in front of them. They made her and Pauline sign non-disclosure papers before they said anything else; Betty obliged but felt weird nonetheless.

"Let's get this started, shall we?" Gowan began, at last. "Ms. Finn, the reason for our meeting today, like I'm sure Fleming told you over the phone, is to discuss a book deal with Mr. Dean. Unfortunately, his wife, one of our writers has found herself unable to continue her contract with us, for hm... medical reasons," Gowan hesitated before saying those last two words. "Mr. Dean is looking for someone with experience in the thriller genre to continue her work and finish the last two remaining books of her series."

"Oh," Betty said. That wasn't what she had been expecting when Pauline said the job offer. But to be fair, she didn't know what exactly she had expected. Her books had been doing ok, but she knew she wouldn't be on the New York Time Best Sellers list anytime soon, so she had been surprised to hear that someone had requested her. That was already a lot of pressure, but need to finish someone else's work? That was even scarier. "Who are we talking about?"

"Veronica Sawyer, I'm sure you've heard of her," Gowan said. Of course, Betty had heard of her. At only 31, Veronica has managed to become very well known in the industry, for her suspense-ridden stories, with clever twists and intriguing characters, ranging from the morally grey ones to downright disturbing and sociopathic. Every book she wrote had been a success. Betty vaguely remembered reading in a magazine that Veronica had been in a car accident 7 months ago, she had stayed in the hospital for a while but was then sent to recover at home; the article didn't disclose much more information.

Talk about pressure... Betty thought.

"We're familiar, yes," Fleming said.

"Her series has been a success and it would be a pity to leave it unfinished," Gowan continued. "So Mr. Dean and his wife are looking for someone to continue her work. We'll release a statement talking about the new coauthor but we want to keep things private about her condition."

"Veronic will remain to own the copyrights, but Mr. Dean here is willing to offer 70 thousand for each book," the lawyer, McCord, spoke up. Betty choked on her own saliva. As discreetly as possible, she exchanged a glance with Pauline, who Betty supposed wore the same shell-shocked expression she did, but quickly both women composed themselves.

"I believe that is a fair amount," Fleming said, in every stoic, professional tone but Betty knew she was jumping up and down inside.

The meeting didn't last much longer. Aside from the quick goodbyes and thank yous, the husband didn't speak a single word, or If he did Betty didn't hear. The deal felt like a weight on her shoulders, stepping into the shoes of someone as successful as Veronica Saywer would not be easy, and she was very aware of that, but as the team discussed deadlines, her contract, and all of its responsibilities, Betty felt like she was floating, sometimes tuning out of the conversation as her daydreams allowed her to wander off. That was it, the chance that she needed to prove her worth and for her career to take off. No more late rent payments and living on food stamps.

On her way out of the building, Betty couldn't control her proud smile as she entered the elevator again. Because at the time, how could she imagine what she was getting herself into?