Worth Solving {Dylan O'Brien}

Chapter Thirty-Seven

A/N: I'm finally home! Now I just managed to get my room in order and when I went to plug in my laptop, I actually was shocked, quite literally. I can't really feel some of my left hand. I've been meaning to post this but I had to go through and do an editing which took a little! xx -Melissa

37.

{Genesis' P.O.V.}

"No, I was hoping to talk to the sole publisher." I ran my hand through my hair, leaning over. "Yes, I'm the author." 

I had been trying to get through for an hour ever since I woke up to an empty hotel suite. On the sofa in the living room in a pair of skinny jeans and a white top, I had my mobile pressed to my ear and a strained look on my face.

I shut my eyes, "I'm Genesis Venita, I wrote Dalliance." They were trying to tell me that they needed proof I was who I was. "We're talking on the bloody phone, what do you expect me to do to prove that I actually wrote my book."

"I'm sorry Miss. It's company policy. Did your agent give you the code word for access the information?" A man who was trying to sound calm stiffly used his words to me, "If you give us the code then I can patch you through."

"I don't have an agent." I lowly said, "I swear to god I wrote Dalliance and I need to talk to someone."

Elizabeth warned me, but I have to try something. I have to do something.

 "I'm sorry-"

"Is there anything else that I can do to prove that it's me? I haven't been in verbal communication with-"

"That is actually something we can use." Dominic, the assistant who's been dealing with me for quite some time, cut me off. "I remember my boss mentioning that he hasn't spoke with the author before, just her agent."

"I don't have an agent."

"Of course. Miss Venita, if you could just tell me where you're from and how old you are so I can get proper identification." Dominic was typing in the background, clicks humming through the line. "I hope you understand."

"I'm 23 and i'm from London."  I rubbed my temple, my eyes still closed as I balanced my elbows on my knees. 

"I'm sorry for the wait. I'll patch you through to Mr. Darnel." 

"Thank you." I breathed out, opening my eyes and staring at the painting of something that looked like a blob on the wall across from me. What was with the art they put in hotels?

"Miss Venita, this is Mr. Darnel, head of publishing at Bloomsbury. I'm so sorry for the issue earlier." A voice with a soft English accent came across the line. "It's such an honour to finally speak with you."

"You as well. I'm sorry I've not been able to talk to you." I absently played with one of my earrings. "I was hoping we could talk."

"Absolutely." Mr. Darnel seemed peppy about the fact we were on the phone. "What did you have in mind? I can assure you that the outlook seems amazing. Dalliance is going to be fantastic. I have to say, I was moved by how beautiful your piece was."

"Erm, thank you, Sir."

Darnel jumped before I could say anything. "You're so young, yet so grown as a writer. I wish there were more like you, Genesis. I honestly was brought to tears and not in years as a publisher has that happen. Hundreds of manuscripts come in and nothing like yours has moved me in such a way."

I closed my eyes, my lips pressing together. I needed to tell him. "Thank you, b-"

"You should come in and talk with me. I'd love to get to know you better. If I know correctly, you live in California with your boyfriend. When will you be back in the UK? My office is in London."