Book Bitch (4 page)

Chapter Four

Saturday morning, I got up early and went running. I loved sprinting through the city that never sleeps. No matter how early you started your day, a thousand other people had already been awake doing something an hour before you. For the most part though, the streets weren’t that busy at six in the morning on the weekend.

Exhaust from the cars just starting their
journeys tickled my nose. Food vendors rolled their carts into place for the long day.  Street peddlers set up sheets on the sidewalks where they scattered their wares. Storeowners busied themselves with unlocking gates that protected their shop windows, and the sun made the glass of the buildings twinkle like gems in the sky. I had lived in Manhattan for more than seven years and I still marveled at how different it was from the busiest town in Nebraska. Still, I’d never leave the city now that I had grown accustomed to its culture.

Rather than wait for
the elevator, I climbed the stairs the four flights to my apartment. I was eager to shower the five miles of sweat I had accumulated off my body. The blinking light on my answering machine told me whoever was awake at 7:30 on a Saturday morning, must have something important to talk about. I pressed the button and listened.

“Alex, it’s Lindsey. Just wondering how your first week went. I haven’t seen you,
and well, I was worried that BB would be devouring your head about now. Give me a call when you get the chance. Bye.”

It was odd. Lindsey had never called me at home before. I didn’t even know she had my number.
I’ll call after I’ve showered, I thought.

The water ra
n until the steam made a thick cloud in the bathroom. Hot water always felt good on my muscles after I’d worked them so hard. The water flowed over me as I appreciated its heat. Lindsey’s concern for me was nice. She seemed to be a good friend. Suddenly, I realized the connotation in her words. Was everyone afraid of being anywhere near Rebecca’s office? Did that mean that I’d never see Lindsey during the course of the workday? I made a mental note to visit her on Monday. Further questions about office attitude pressed me. Rebecca wasn’t
that
bad. She was just convicted in running a successful business, doing whatever it took to earn a nice living and maintaining a solid reputation. From what I’d seen anyway. Even my past misconceptions were dissolved when I better understood where she was coming from.  I’d have to explain it to Lindsey.

My thoughts jumped to
Rebecca. It was just a week ago that I thought of her in the same way Lindsey did. What a difference a few days make. She had been encouraging and supportive the whole week, praising my thoughts on the new submissions and applauding my interaction with Preston Price. The dinner she treated Rose and me to was friendly and fostering. I was relaxed and enjoyed being with her. There was sincerity in her eyes. Her smile was genuine. Her lips were full.

Thinking of her made my body react. I needed to change the temperature of the shower water. Stop! You can’t think of her in that way. She’s your boss. You’re learning from her how to be a ruthless agent. You can’t find her attractive. The problem was, I did.

I spent the day doing what I normally do on Saturdays: grocery shopping, laundry, and tidying my small place. My buddy, Connor, came over with a pizza and a six-pack in the afternoon. We watched the baseball game.

“So, how’s the new job?” Connor sat back and held a slice of pizza slightly higher than his mouth. He swigged his beer in between bites.

“It’s only been a week, but it’s good. Rebecca liked the authors I picked to represent, and we had lunch with Preston Price.”

“That’s cool. I don’t care for his stuff, but I know he’s a big deal.”

“Yeah, and Rebecca took me out for dinner to celebrate a good first week.”

Connor’s eyebrow climbed.

“No, not that kind of dinner. Rose, the secretary, was with us.”

“You never know, Alex. Maybe she’s got the hots for you and is just giving you this position to keep you close.
You could be her new distraction.” He tilted his head and both his eyebrows lifted. “Just don’t rule it out. It’s not such a bad thing to be ‘teacher’s pet’.”

Our attention was deflected to the television, where
one of our favorite players hit a home run.

During the seventh inning stretch
, the phone ran. It was then I realized I had never called Lindsey back. “Crap!”

“What?” Connor asked.

“I forgot to call Lindsey back.”

“Who’s Lindsey?”

“She’s one of my co-workers. She left me a message while I was out running this morning to see how I managed my first week. I was supposed to call her after my shower.” I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh, so you’re not dead.” Lindsey’s voice was stern but sounded relieved.

“I’m sooooooo sorry I didn’t call you back. I went for my run then showered. I had every intention of calling you, but then my buddy came over. Please forgive me.”

She laughed. “Of course. Don’t worry about it. I know you have a life. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I haven’t seen you since you emptied your old desk. It’s no fun on that side of the office without you.”

“Thanks. That’s nice of you to say.” I looked at Connor, who was engrossed in the game.

There was a brief hesitation on the other end.
Then she said, “Say, you wanna hang out sometime?”

“Um, sure.”
Was it a good idea to spend personal time with your co-workers? I wasn’t sure.

“Great.
I can come by. Where do you live?”

“Oh, I, um.”
I gave her my address.

“Give me an hour.”

“Okay.”

Exactly an hour later, the buzzer from the lobby alerted me to Lindsey’s arrival.

“Who’s that?” Connor asked.

“
Lindsey came to hang out with us. She’s cool. You’ll like her. She’s a lot like us.”

“What does that mean? She’s a sports-loving-book-geek? Poor girl.” He laughed.

“You have to be on your best behavior. Remember, I work with this girl.”

He held his hand over his heart. “I promise to behave.”

I opened the door to my apartment just as Lindsey appeared in the doorway. “Hey, I picked up some wine.” She handed me the bottle.

“Oh, you didn’t have to bring anything. We’re just hangin
g out, watching some television.”

She stepped into my apartment and noticed Connor on the couch. Her shoulders dropped. It
was then that I realized she might have thought it would just be the two of us hanging out. I felt bad.

There was nothing I could do about it then. I ushered her into the living area, which consisted of a modular co
uch, a coffee table, and a makeshift wall unit that housed a thirty-two inch television set. “Lindsey, this is my good friend, Connor. Connor, this is the most amazing editor in all of New York, Lindsey.”

“Well, apparently not the
most
amazing. You were the one who got the promotion.” Her comment made me feel uncomfortable even though she said it with an attempt at joking.

The two gave a slight wave toward
the other. It was a very awkward moment. I tried to break the tension. “Lindsey brought some wine. I’ll get some glasses. Please, have a seat.”

Lindsey sat in the furthest corner
on my modular couch, away from Connor. She placed her purse on her lap. Connor tried to make conversation. “So, you work with Alex? I bet that’s fun.”

Lindsey let out a nervous giggle. “It us
ed to be, before he was snatched to be the Book Bitch’s pet.”

That was the second slice on my character since she got to my apartment.
I walked back into the living area with three regular drinking glasses and the bottle of wine. “Sorry. I don’t have fancier drink wear.” I put the glasses on the coffee table and opened the wine. I poured into all three and handed one to Lindsey, then Connor. I held mine up.  The other two imitated my action. “To new friends.” We all drank.

“So, what genres are your favorites?” Connor asked.

“I like just about everything, I guess. I go in cycles. Right now I am sort of obsessed with horror and science fiction.”

That caught Connor’s interest. An avid
Stephen King fanatic and Star Wars junkie, he moved to the edge of the couch. Quickly, I faded into the background as they began a strong back-and-forth about every aspect imaginable in both topics and subtopics.

By midnight, the two of them were seated next to each other,
only inches apart and on their fifth glass of wine, while I was three-quarters deep into a movie on television in the seat Lindsey had occupied when she first came.

“Say Alex, would it be okay if I escorted your friend home? She’s had a lot to drink and I wouldn’t feel right if she went home by herself.”

That was surprising, although I don’t know why. They hadn’t even talked to me since they started comparing notes on Star Wars facts. I asked Lindsey if she was okay with it and she gave me a big smile. I turned back to Connor. “Go ahead. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Connor’s face lit up. Lindsey grabbed her purse and the two of them walked out the door.

I cleaned up the remnants from the chips and finger foods we ate, and washed the cups and stacked them in the drain board on the side of my sink before brushing my teeth and getting into bed. I stared at the ceiling, wondering how my night might have gone if Connor wasn’t there. Would I have made a move on Lindsey? Nah, you have to work with her. It wouldn’t be right. She’s not really my type any way. Then I wondered. What was my type? Each girl I dated before didn’t seem to be my type either. I guess I would know when I met her.

I fell asleep shortly afterward.

Sunday morning, I went running again. On the way home, I picked up a coffee, a buttered bagel, and the New York Times from the deli down the block from my apartment. This was the highlight of my weekend: the Best Seller List.

Monday morning put me back into my regular routine. I picked up coffee for Rose and
Rebecca again.

“Thank you, but you don’t have to buy me coffee every day,” Rose said.

“I’m just trying to make a good impression.” I winked.

“You don’t have to impress me. I’m already
enthralled that you got past Rebecca’s hard exterior. That’s quite an accomplishment in itself. Not everyone can get her to smile, genuinely. Most of the time it’s an act for clients. Her smile isn’t fake when you’re around.” Rose’s stare was serious.

“I’d still rather be on the safe side. Best not to start letting her see my true
unaccomplished self.” My smile widened.

I knocked before entering.

“You don’t have to knock. This is your office, too.” She was sitting at her desk. A light blue blouse muted the color of her skin, but accentuated her long lashes. Her shade of lipstick made her mouth look very sensual. My heart beat faster. Her fingers brushed mine as I handed her the cup of coffee. Our eyes locked. A small surge of energy coursed through me. My breath hitched. She felt it, too. I could tell from the slight shift in her expression. I pulled my hand away and turned toward my desk so she wouldn’t see my red cheeks. I grabbed the stack of new submissions I had read through and were ready for discussion.

“
I… I didn’t want to interrupt anything.” Before she had the chance to respond, I changed the subject. “I’d like to request the full manuscripts from these writers,” I said, handing the stack to Rebecca.

“I don’t need to read them. If you think they’re good enough, then request them.”

That took me by surprise. “But the procedure is that I write a justification for what I want to request more of then I wait for your written approval to reach out to the writers.”

The corners of h
er mouth lifted. “I know. I wrote the procedure. If you think these manuscripts are worth a deeper look, then I trust you to do that, without my approval. Once you get the full manuscript, and you feel it’s something we can sell to publishers, then you’ll share it with me.”

Wow, I never would have tho
ught I’d be given such freedom. “Thank you, Rebecca. I promise not to let you down.”

“I know,” she said. Her
gaze pulled me in. I could stare at her all day. “Now, get to work. We don’t have much time before we have to meet with some publishing houses at the luncheon on 54
th
Street.

The morning hours flew by as I constructed response letters to the five promising authors
Rebecca gave me the okay to contact, as well as reading through a whole new pile of submissions. Rebecca was equally busy talking on the telephone with various publishers and printers regarding the authors she was mid-contract with. Her assertive tone was alluring. I found myself stealing glances at her, focusing on the way she moved; her hands were fluid as she jotted notes in the margins of manuscripts. She liked to doodle while speaking on the phone. It made me curious to know what her scribbles were. It might give me an insight to who she really was.