Book Bitch (5 page)

At twelve-fifteen,
Rebecca stood up from her desk.

“I’m just going to go to the ladies room to freshen up, then we’ll go, okay?”

I nodded. She walked out of the room and I raced to her desk to look at her scratch page. Usually, I wouldn’t be so invasive, but I was curious to know what was on her mind. Maybe there were harsh criticisms scrawled that would shed light on how she thought. Various sized hearts covered the page. Some with banners behind them, others with wings, but all of them hearts.

Rebecca
startled me when she walked back into the room. “Ready?” Her head cocked with curiosity when she saw me standing over her desk.

“I… I just wanted to leave the drafts of my letters on your desk, for you to review and approve.”

She smiled. “You’re a big boy, Alex. You’ve been doing this for a while. I think I can trust you to write a letter requesting manuscripts.”

I walked back to my desk and grabbed my sport jacket, which was getting quite the work out since I started my new position.

“Don’t you own another jacket?” Rebecca asked.

H
eat rushed to my cheeks. I looked down. “I only have this one. I plan on purchasing some new clothes with my next paycheck.”

Rebecca
nodded slowly. “Okay, let’s go.”

We walked a few blocks uptown to 54
th
Street and Eighth Avenue. The host of the event, some publishing editor from one of the houses we frequently connected with, greeted us, and Rebecca began to mingle immediately. Although I had been in the business for seven years, this was my first luncheon event and I had never met anyone personally; would only recognize them because I had researched them all through Google from time to time. I’d only ever talked to publishers on the phone. I was probably mixing with several people that I actually knew, but would be unable to tell until I heard them speak. Like a child at an adult’s party, I followed Rebecca around the room and watched as she schmoozed with them individually as she encountered them. She knew each one’s name and their specialties. Appropriate conversation played back and forth. I was pretty sure a few deals were made using secret code.

We stayed for two hours. I was exhausted when we finally walked out into the street.
Paying attention to so much can take a lot out of a guy. I looked forward to sitting at my desk, relaxing with several of the manuscripts that were waiting for me.

Rebecca
’s hand went up in the air to hail a cab. What usually took me ten minutes, she achieved in a matter of seconds. I guess cabbies prefer stopping for beautiful women with shapely legs. The bright yellow car pulled over and she got in. “Let’s go.”

I stood, motionless on the sidewalk. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you shopping. If you’re going to the big shin-dig at the Waldorf-Astoria tomorrow night, you’ll need something suitable to wear.” She waited. “Well, are you getting in, or do I have to guess your size and pick up a few things for you to chose from?”

I got i
nto the car. She told the cabbie where to go.

A drive downtown had us
in SoHo. Rebecca paid the driver and got out of the car. I scrambled out behind her and found we were in front of a swanky boutique - totally not my speed. She walked right in. The owner, a low-key sexual enigma, kissed her on each cheek.

“Becky
, how are you? You’ve been a stranger lately.” His coal black hair was cut at an angle over one eye. Strips of hot pink alternated every inch or so. His clothes were equally wild. Now, I know I’m not the world’s best dresser, but even I knew that a dark purple shirt with lime green polka dots didn’t go well with plaid pants. Still, it worked for this guy.

“Craig, I
need you to hook my friend up.” She turned toward me and smiled. “Alex needs something he can wear to the big party at the Waldorf tomorrow night.” She turned to look at me. I returned a nervous smile.

Craig sized me up and down. “Thirty
-two regular?” he asked. I nodded. “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared behind a curtain in the back of the store. It afforded me a moment to survey my surroundings. Everything from active wear to suits to underwear, socks and belts, each in its own section. And the mannequins were nicely attired. It made me self-conscious to know that the plastic people were dressed better than I was. Craig returned with a black garment bag. “The dressing room is back there. Let me know if you need any help.” I wasn’t sure if he was offering professional assistance or flirting with me. I took the garment bag and walked in the direction he pointed.

I hung the bag on the only hook in a small cubicle and closed the fabric curtain. I unzipped the bag to reveal a beautiful, charcoal grey Geoffrey Beene suit. I tried it on
. Other than the pants and sleeves being a bit too long, it fit perfectly. I walked out for Rebecca’s opinion. Approval was apparent on both her face and Craig’s.

“Oh yes. That looks wonderful,” she said. “Turn around, let me see the back.”

I felt like I was shopping with my mom when I needed a suit for my cousin Bethany’s wedding. I turned and waited for Rebecca’s next instruction. “Perfect. Yes, yes. You’re the best, Craig. Now we need a shirt and tie.”

Craig turned to me. “You go stand by the mirror. I’ll have Claude come and pin you for alterations.” He turned back toward
Rebecca. “I can have it ready tomorrow morning. Can you pick it up?”

“Yes, I’ll be leaving the office early so I can get re
ady. I’ll swing by at noon. Is that enough time?”

“Of course. For you, I will work magic.”

As Claude, who found every excuse to check the area in the crotch of the suit pants, fondled me, Rebecca and Craig searched for the perfect shirt and tie to go with the suit. They debated between his coupling and hers. In the end, Rebecca won. I was glad. I liked her choice better than Craig’s. She held it up with the tie draped over the front of the shirt then pressed it against my chest, inside the jacket. Her hands on me made my head swim. The fragrance of her perfume drifted around me.

“So, what do you think?” she asked, looking up at me.

The thoughts in my head were a jumble. It took a moment to comprehend what she was asking. “It’s nice. I like it.”

She turned toward Craig. “Okay, we’ll take this
, too. Oh, and these socks.” She held up a pair that matched the suit. “What kind of shoes do you have these days?”

Craig looked at me. “What size do you wear?”

“Eleven,” I said.

Craig looked at me with a wicked smile and a raised eyebrow. “Mmmm, that sounds nice.” Then he disappeared behind the curtain again. He returned with a box. He lifted the lid and pulled out a beautiful
pair of black leather, Calvin Klein loafers. I took one from him and tried it on. Rebecca nodded.

“Okay. Add those
.”

When everything was chosen, I changed back into my dumpy old clothes.
Rebecca was already paying for everything. I raced to the cash register. “No, I’m paying for it.”

She looked at me. “No, you aren’t. I’m making you go to this thing, so I’ll be treating you to this outfit. When you land a few million dollar deals and you ask me to go to your big events, you can pay for your own clothes.”

Craig’s smile was wide as he finished the transaction.

We took a cab back to the office. Rose didn’t say a word when we walked in just as everyone was going home for the day. I sat at my desk and started to read the manuscripts on my desk.

“Take those home and read them. You don’t need to stay here for that.” Rebecca sat at her desk.

“But I haven’t been here nearly long enough
today,” I said.

“It’s okay.
You’re learning to be the boss now. You can do whatever you want.” She rolled her eyes at my reluctance. “I’m telling you to. Take them home and read them,” she reiterated.

I shoved them into a manila envelope. She collected a few things fr
om her desk, then walked to the office door and stopped in front of me. “Tomorrow, you’ll get ready at my place since I have to pick up the suit from Craig. Make sure your loved ones are aware that you’ll be out all day, and that any pets are taken care of by neighbors.”

I didn’t know what to say. “Um, I live alone. No pets.”

Rebecca smiled. “Good, then you can stay out all night.”

Chapter Five

I made sure that when I shaved and showered the next morning I was perfectly fit for a night mingling with the best in the business I chose to drown in. I got to work two hours early so I could tackle the work that had piled up on my desk over the past few days. Rebecca walked in at eight. She was surprised to see me at the desk.

“Well, aren’t you the early bird.”

“I didn’t want to get backed up.”

“Impressive, Alex. Your
boss likes that sort of dedication.” Her smile was wide. She walked behind her desk and stood as she read the phone messages that Rose must have handed her before she walked in. Today’s ensemble was an electric blue blouse and a straight black skirt. Her hair flowed over her shoulders, and again her lips looked amazing in whatever color it was she was wearing. I could hear my heartbeat in my eardrums.

Once she sat down, she started to return
all of the phone calls that corresponded to each of the slips of paper Rose had handed her.

At ten-thirty, I stood up and stretched. “I’m going to the break room to get a cup of coffee. Want one?”

“Sure. That would be nice.”

I walked out to Rose and asked if I could get her a cup
, too. “You are the sweetest, Alex. I’m good for now, but thanks.”

I walked passed my old desk
, expecting to see it sadly abandoned. Someone new occupied it. A thin, beautiful redhead spoke on the phone. She looked up to see me staring. She said good-bye and hung up the phone. “Can I help you?” she asked. Green eyes sparkled in the fluorescent light.

“Sorry. I used to sit here.”

“So you’re the Alex Ryan that moved up in the company.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, it proves that I’m not wasting my time busting my hump buried in this slush.” She held her hand out to a stack of paper. It brought back memories of the endless stack of manuscripts I had read sitting in the same chair.

“It’s not all bad, sometimes you find a diamond in the rough. It makes it worth it
when you find a good one.”

“
I’ll keep that in mind.” She stuck out her hand. “Katherine Shea. You can call me Katie.”

I
shook her hand. “You already know my name.” She smiled. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work.” I continued on my journey to the break room. Less than an ounce of brown slush remained in the pot, burning and making an awful smell. “Things haven’t changed.” I took the pot and washed it before making a fresh batch. I sat at the small round table as I waited for it to drip. Lindsey walked into the room.

“Hey stranger. What brings you to this side of the office?” She rested her empty coffee mug on the table and sat across from me.

“I’m sorry about the other night. I should have told you that Connor was there.”

She looked down and smiled. “Nah, it’s okay. He’s a great guy.” She looked up. “In fact, we’re getting together this coming Saturday.”

Wow, I didn’t think they’d hit it off so well. “Great. Looks like I’ll be spending Saturday nights on my own from now on then.”

She laughed. “So how’s it going over there with Madam Literary?”

My shoulders fell. “She’s not like that. She’s assertive, but she’s not the bitch that everyone thinks she is.” Lindsey looked at me with apprehension. “Really, Linds. She’s not bad at all. She’s driven and wants to succeed.”

Lindsey surrendered. “Okay, Alex. I’ll stop with the names, but don’t expect me to go for mannis and peddi
es with her.”

I smiled.

The coffee was ready. I filled two mugs and walked back to my office. Rebecca was shouting at someone on the other end of the telephone. “George, that’s not what I told you. Alison is not the kind of woman who works well under pressure. You need to extend the time frame for the next novel. I’m reading it now and it still needs some more edits. It won’t be completed in a week. I need until the end of the month… Well, you can demand all you want, you’re not getting it before the first of next month… If you don’t like it, I can find another publisher who’d love to pick up an author who’s been on the New York Times Best Seller List for six weeks.”

I held up seven
fingers.

“Sorry, seven
weeks… That’s what I thought. If she’s finished with it before the first, I will be happy to hand it over, but until then keep your team busy… Okay then. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

“Wow, that was something,” I said, standing in front of her desk with the coffee.

“Take it as a lesson, Alex. You just can’t back down when you want something. You have to take it.” She took the coffee from me. “Thank you. And thank you for giving me the correct number that Alison’s been on the list.”

“I can’t have people thinking that the great
Rebecca Stratford had her facts off.” I smiled before taking a sip of coffee.

“We’ll leave here at noon. I’ve already called Craig. He said the suit’s ready. You can change at my place.”

“Um, okay.”

I was able to read through four more queries
before Rebecca collected her purse and headed out the door. “See you tomorrow, Rose,” she said. I quickly shut my computer and raced out to catch her at the elevator bank. My watch read twelve o’clock exactly.

“Boy, you weren’t kidding when you said we were leaving at noon.”

“I’m punctual. If I say noon, I mean noon.” The elevator arrived and we got in. I was afraid to say anything else.

Out on the street, a car waited for us to get in and then began the trip to the men’s boutique.
Rebecca spent most of the ride checking her smartphone. She made a quick call to her hair stylist, I assumed, telling him to meet her at her house at five. I sat along side her, watching everything. But it wasn’t that I wanted to learn from her; it was more that she entranced me. The way her long fingers caressed the buttons on the phone; how her hair moved when she tilted her head back; the way her lips pursed when she listened to the person on the other end of the phone.

Wit
hout realizing it, we had arrived in front of the boutique. Rebecca signed off on the voucher and handed it back to the driver. I got out of the car and offered my hand to help her out. She looked up at me with a big smile. “Why, thank you, Mr. Ryan. I’m so glad that chivalry is not dead in this world.”

I followed her into the store. Craig raced to the front and he and
Rebecca performed their welcoming ritual with a kiss on each cheek. His eyes danced up and down my frame as he mentally devoured me before he ran into the back and returned with a black garment bag and the box of shoes. “I had everything pressed, including the shirt. You’re all good to go.”

“Thank you, Craig. You’re the best.”
Rebecca gave him another kiss on the cheek. She handed me the garment bag and the shoebox and curled her finger indicating I should follow her.

Increasing my steps to just under a sprint, I caught up to her halfway up the block. Amazing how fast she was in those heels. The way she carried herself gave the impression that she owned the street. We turned the corner and entered a building that looked like it might have been a warehouse i
n its younger days. I followed her through two sets of glass doors. Inside, the décor was anything but warehouse-like. White marble floors fanned out and bent where it met the wall, until it reached ornate wallpaper mid-way up. A security guard tipped his hat as we walked toward the recess of the building. Far in the back was an elevator bank with a black door. Rebecca sauntered right to it and pressed the button. The door opened as soon as I caught up. I hopped onto the elevator next to her and Rebecca pressed the number three. The car bobbed before we ascended. Once on her floor, I resumed my trail of Rebecca to the end of the hallway. She opened the door with keys she pulled from her purse. I followed her inside. It wasn’t what I expected.

Bleached
wood floors stretched out far in front of me. White walls stretched up eight feet high to a maroon colored ceiling. To my left was a living area, larger than my entire apartment. White leather furniture floated on top of a white shag area rug. A flat screen television hung on the wall adjacent to two large, picture windows. The wall closest to us was covered from one side to the other in a bookshelf stacked with books.

“Can I g
et you a drink?” I turned toward Rebecca, who stood behind me in a white Formica kitchen, sandwiched between a breakfast counter with three white stools, and a line of matching white cabinets.

“No. No
, thank you.”

“You can put those things down.
” She pointed to the white couch. “We have a little while to unwind before we have to get ready for tonight. I hate to rush.”

I walked into the living room and placed the garment bag
on the back of the sofa and gently placed the shoebox on the floor. Rebecca walked over to me and handed me a glass of wine. “I didn’t-“

“Just in case you change your mind.” She
walked past me and sat on the couch. She crossed her legs and it was the first time I noticed how shapely her calves were. I imitated her actions and sat at the other end. “We can use this time to get to know each other a little better. We will be spending a lot of time together as you learn all of my secrets.” She sipped the wine. “So, tell me something about yourself, Alex.”

I sat back in
the seat and ran a finger over the rim of the glass. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, you’re not a native New Yorker.”

“No, I grew up in Nebraska. I mentioned that my mom is a librarian. My dad sells life insurance. I don’t have siblings. I moved here to pursue a career in publishing. End of story.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She shifted in the seat so that she faced me. I did the same. “What are your aspirations, your dreams? It must be more than being an editor pushing out other people’s stories.”

I looked down at the drink in my hand. “One day, I’d like to be the most revered literary agent in the country, like you.” I hoped my smile told her that it was a compliment and not that I was being pretentious. My body tensed as I waited for her response.

She smiled too. My shoulders relaxed. “You’re very good, you know that? You always say the right things, no matter what pressure I exert on you. You will be an awesome
senior agent.”

“What about you? What drives you? What are you aiming to accomplish?”

Rebecca sat a moment, contemplating what she’d share with me. “Do you know that no one has ever asked me that question?” Again she thought about what she’d share. “I started out as a writer. I had a good novel, which landed me an agent. It went to print, but didn’t do well. I was devastated, but I had to accept that the public didn’t feel I was as good as I thought I was. During the entire process, I paid attention to everything my agent did. I thought, ‘I could do that for other people.’ ” So, instead of writing, I joined a publishing company. I learned everything while I went to school at night for my MFA. I worked my way up the ranks in a short time. When Frank Carruthers was ready to sell his literary agency, I swooped in and bought it. I hired Rose shortly afterward. She helped me organize things. She’s a whiz.

“
After I built up my client base from what Carruthers passed over to me, I changed the name of the company to reflect my own. With that came the standards I insist on. I will settle for nothing less than perfection on both sides.” She took another sip of her drink. “Even though I have Jayne in the legal department recruit and interview potential new comers, I am the final say on everything, including who gets hired, or promoted. You may not be aware of it, but I watch everyone carefully. I need to make sure the agency is a well-oiled machine. I can’t have any broken cogs. My reputation is at stake. No one wants an agent who can’t handle the toughness of this business.”

I understood
and agreed with everything she said. It was the same principal I prided my own decisions on. I wasn’t sure how to proceed with the conversation. Instead, I looked around the room. There were no photos. The room was stark, empty of color, of anything truly personal, of emotion. It made me focus on her. I wondered what was going on inside of her. Her attractiveness distracted people from her intelligence. I was guilty of falling into that category as well.

She stood and walked to the window.
Staring out into the city, she spoke as if she was addressing it instead of me. “People think I’m cold and devoid of feelings. I know they call me the Book Bitch. It’s not true. I care very much, but in this business, emotion equates with weakness. I’d be chewed up and spit out if I show any compassion.” She turned to look at me. For the first time, she appeared vulnerable, susceptible. Sexy.

I
put my glass on the coffee table, stood and walked up to her. I’m not sure why. I just wanted to be next to her, maybe to read her expression better. We were two inches apart when I stopped. “You’re not weak.” Her perfume was the catalyst that started the blood surging through my system. Her eyes connected with mine, pleading. Her mouth called to me. Every muscle in my body tightened. Heat radiated from my skin. I wanted her badly. My brain tried to warn me about my rule not to get involved with co-workers, particularly my boss, but I didn’t listen. I imagined her in my arms. But would she pull away? I couldn’t hold back any more. Without thinking, I reached forward with my lips. They connected with hers. Soft. Warm. Receptive. Every neuron in my body responded. It was glorious. When we parted I looked into her eyes to read her reaction. She stilled.