The Publicist Book One and Two (29 page)

Andrew set two steaming cups on the table. “Would you like some tea, James?” he asked his partner.

“No, I won’t disturb you; I need to go check on some things anyway. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kate.” James disappeared out of the kitchen.

Andrew smiled at her. “I’m known for being a ladies’ man; imagine how the world would react if I were a man’s man,” he chuckled.

“But no one would care, Andrew.”

“Sure they would. Well, my manager would. They want me to play it straight until the book is out, mostly because I’m talking about all of my wanton love stories with some of the biggest starlets in the world.”

“Someone will find out.”

Andrew nodded and sipped his tea. “Of course they will, but by then my contract will be up and I’ll be able to lead my own life.”

“So this manager owns you, totally.”

Andrew shrugged, “I was drunk off my ass, young, and hungry when I signed it. What can I say?”

“And James. What happens when you go on the road with this book?”

“He’ll stay behind. He gets it. He knows the game, too. He hides for a while, and then he doesn’t. Everything in life is an illusion, Kate.”

Kate would have to agree; certainly, when it came to publishing, much of what went on was about perception.

“How did you two meet?” she asked.

A broad smile took over Andrew’s face. “At school. I’ve known James for almost forty years. We were best friends, and then he married a woman.” He winked, “And one day he realized he was gay. By that time in my life, I was sort of feeling it, too. So, we snuck around for the better part of twenty years.”

Kate was surprised. “Wait. You’ve been seeing each other for twenty years? How did no one find out?”

“We were very careful.” He smiled. “And truthfully, Love, when you see stars with secrets that come out and they’re horrified and whatnot, I will tell you most certainly they want them to come out. If you really want to keep a secret in this industry, you can. But most of us are attention whores.”

“But you had relationships with women, stories you’ve written about in this book. Andrew, I appreciate what you’ve been through, but I won’t promote a lie.”

“Oh dear, Piper was right. You are a gem!”

“Piper?” Kate frowned. Piper Maru, the hottest singing sensation, had helped her draw some attention at a signing for Janet Easter, one of her favorite authors MD was getting ready to dump. Having Piper at Janet’s book signing turned out hundreds of people and resulted in Janet’s book hitting the bestseller list and MD finally giving her the attention she deserved. Kate, however, didn’t know Piper, per se, and she assumed Piper didn’t know her.

“Piper Maru, Love. She’s a good friend of mine. That’s why I insisted you be the publicist for this book; she said you were the best.”

“Wait. You asked for me?”

“Well, yes, I did, though they said you were already assigned to the project. I insisted you be a part of this. Piper said you were creative and, well, basically a genius.”

Kate shook her head; she had no idea that Piper even remembered her. Generally, no one remembered the publicist.

“It’s also why I brought you here,” Andrew continued. “I’m sure you had visions of a drugged out rock star showing up at signings and the like, and I wanted you to know that if I act out it’s, well, all part of the act.”

Kate shook it off. “I won’t promote a lie,” she said again.

“I won’t either. This book is my legacy, Kate. Once this book is done, I’m writing another about coming out and being with someone I have loved all of my life. I’m going to tell it all—how the music world works, what’s real, and what’s not.”

“That book will end your career.”

Andrew laughed, “Love, my career is long over. I turn sixty this year. I have no desire to be another Mick Jagger and play concerts in the geriatric home. For God’s sake, the man looks like a turtle. Have you seen him recently? Look, I’ve done what I set out to do: made music. Now I want my life back.”

Kate stared at her cup. “There’s one more thing you should know about me, Andrew.”

He leaned in smiling. “Yes, Love?”

“I don’t like your music.”

Andrew’s laughter carried through the kitchen. “For fuck sake, Kate, neither do I. Well some of it I adore, but some of these songs I’ve played ten thousand times that I bloody well hate.”

She smiled. “Then let’s get to work.”

…

They had dinner on the veranda. James barbecued steaks and they sipped margaritas. Andrew wanted his virgin.

“I’m not in a program, as you Americans say. I just want to keep my head clear for this work. Alcohol never helped me do anything but get into trouble.”

He smiled to James, who stood tall and handsome against the backdrop of the mountains and the evening sunset. Kate found him to be a delightful man, and obviously, he and Andrew were completely in love. She wondered how you could hide a love that was so strong it showed in their faces each time they looked at each other. Then she thought of her and Mac and wondered if everyone saw it in her face each time she looked at him. She made a mental note to try to avoid that when they were in public. She chuckled to herself.
Good luck with that
. Her eyes were glued to him the minute he entered a room. God, this was complicated.

Chapter Eighteen

Kate’s phone buzzed, forcing her to slip through the layers of sleep and open her eyes. She glanced at the clock. It was six a.m. in Vegas, her last day with Andrew and James. Two men who she’d become impossibly fond of. She rubbed her face and pushed herself upright. Her phone buzzed mercilessly on the nightstand. She finally grabbed it. It was Mac.

“Hey,” she said, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“Wow, that must have been some party last night. It’s nine a.m. here and you’re still in bed?” she could hear Mac smiling through the phone, the mere sound of his voice left her a quivering mass of raging female hormones.

“It’s six here in the West, Mac.”

“Oh right. I knew that. I just miss the sound of your voice when you first wake up. Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s okay. How are you?”

“I’m good, Kate. How’s the Trapp book?”

Kate pondered her answer. Though Mac was the editor, she was under an NDA, and moreover, she respected Andrew too much to not keep his secret. “It’s good actually. Andrew is, eh, a surprise.”

“Good. Well look, I wanted to prep you for something before you come back today.”

Kate held her breath. This was never good.

Mac continued, “They’re moving up the release date for
The Continued Promise
.”

Kate leaned back on the pillows. She was certain she’d misunderstood. “What did you say?”

“Eddie wants to move up the release date of the book from fall to summer.”

Kate’s heart dropped. Summer? Summer was not a terrible time to release a book, but something like
The Continued Promise
needed a fall release; the bigger books were always pushed to the fall.

“Mac, there must be some mistake.”

“No mistake, Katie. I tried to talk Eddie out of it, but he’s determined to release it early.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea, but there’s something odd about this. I mean, not just a changed release date, but the whole thing. Ed refuses to give me a solid reason for the early date; he said, ‘just do it.’ He wants you back right away.”

“I leave tonight;. I’m not changing my flight. Mac, this is insane. Does he have any idea what work goes into a title this size?”

“The bookstores are already being called. If we can’t get early placement, that might change his mind. But you’ll need to call
Publishers Weekly
right away. I’m sorry, Katie.”

“It’s not your fault, Mac. When did you find out?”

“Fifteen minutes ago. My first call was to the sales team to see about taking care of the bookstore piece. Then I called you.”

Kate hesitated. “Mac, you know I never felt right about this guy, Michael Singer has corrupt written all over him. There’s something so fishy about this release being moved up.”

“I agree, but there’s nothing we can do. I hope you’re not right about Singer though—we have a lot riding on this book.”

“We do, and that’s why this makes no sense at all. This could kill the book.”

Mac was silent for a moment; they all needed this book to do well. “I know,” he said quietly.

After news like that, Kate was fully awake. “Mac, I need to make some calls before I head down to breakfast.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Katie.” Mac clicked off and the bad feeling that had followed her ever since she and Mac had met Michael Singer in Seattle haunted Kate. There was more to this story. She was certain of it.

Kate picked up her phone again and started making calls.

Chapter Nineteen

Master Yee Woo was a noted something, Kate couldn’t recall. But he had legions of devotees and a Twitter account that boasted a million and a half followers. His website was all about driving good energy, bringing prosperity and wealth into your life, and generally making everything just skippy and lovely. In order to get to Master Woo, Kate had to go through a series of assistants. She suspected that bank vaults had less security. After a few weeks of trying to get the author on the phone, they finally had a call scheduled that afternoon. Between this release and the shuffling of
The Continued Promise
release date, Kate’s bandwidth was stretched pretty thin. She barely had time for anything social, though she and Grace had a quick cocktail earlier that week. While they sipped their Cosmos, Kate gingerly dodged the topic of Mac—which wasn’t easy.

Kate had been assigned to this title, and Pete, the office lowlife, had been asked to assist her. Pete made no secret of the fact that he aspired to head up the publicity department one day and wanted to be Kate’s boss. She’d rather have a job asking, “Would you like fries with that?” than work for that little redheaded twerp. There was little good to be said about Pete, other than the fact that he excelled at being a loathsome pest. How he managed to keep his job was anyone’s guess.

“What time is our call, Kate?” Pete popped his head into her office. His red hair was tousled. His grooming habits left a lot to be desired. She wondered if he even brushed his hair in the morning.

“I’ve told you three times. It’s at one p.m., but you don’t need to be on the call.”

“I think it’s important. We’re both working on this title, Kate.”

She frowned. “No, I’m working on this title. You’re helping.”

Pete scowled and left her office. Kate was certain that if Pete had the chance, he’d throw her in front of a bus and then beg the driver to let him drive.

Kate had decided to take the call in the conference room. Pete was already there, of course. Kate sat down and dialed into their conference line. The recording said that three people were already on the call.

“Hello everyone. This is Kate Mitchell. Pete, who is assisting me on this project, is also on the call.”

A high-pitched and almost singsong female voice came on the line. “Kate and Pete, we are grateful and pleased to have you on the call. Master Yee Woo is joining us momentarily.”

“Who else is on the call?” Kate asked.

“Just observers of Master’s work,” the woman replied.

“And your name is?” Kate asked. This call was starting to creep her out.

Another ding. “Master, is that you?” the woman asked.

“Yes, my child, Master Yee Woo is on the call.” Pete started snickering, and Kate threw him a dirty look.

“Master Yee,” Kate began, “we’re here to talk about your book release next week. We’re very excited and…”

“We must start with our chant first,” the woman’s voice said.

Kate blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“We need to shift the energy on the call so it aligns with the highest goals for this book. Chanting will help to shift this.” Suddenly there was a series of voices and chanting sounds. Pete covered his mouth to keep from bursting out in laughter. Kate rolled her eyes.
Another nut case. Freaking great
, she thought,
just what I need to round out my already perfect life.

The chanting wore on. Kate looked at her watch; they’d been at this for three minutes. She wondered if she should interrupt, go get herself some coffee, or better yet, get a Cosmo. Sometimes she was amazed she didn’t drink more.

“We may begin,” a female voice finally said.

Thank freaking God
, Kate thought. For a minute, she worried the chanting was never going to end.

“So, Master Yee,” Kate said, “as you know, the book didn’t make a review in
Publishers Weekly
, but we’re looking at some nice media coverage in your market.” Kate ran off a list of publications that would feature his book.

The silence on the line was deafening.

“Why is there no morning show coverage?” he asked. “This message should be on national television.”

No
, Kate thought
, it shouldn’t
. God forbid you start an interview off with chanting. If he thought the energy was bad at a publishing house, he should try going on television.

“We didn’t get any takers for TV, I’m afraid.” Kate hoped they wouldn’t suspect it was a lie. She’d never pitched national TV for this; it was too risky. As it stood, Yee had a lot of followers, but a lot of people thought he was a fraud. There were entire websites dedicated to Yee with one-time followers chiding him for being a fake and a thief. Still, MD insisted on publishing him. He had a lot of social media platform and they really felt this title could work. Also, with
The Continued Promise
on the horizon, the publisher wanted to beef up their New Age list, knowing that a lot of eyes would be on their newly released and upcoming titles. If one did well, likely they all would. Rising tide and all.

“This is a grave disappointment. My book must be a bestseller,” Woo said.

“One caller has disconnected,” the automated voice said.

“Mr. Woo?”

“
Master
Yee Woo has left,” the yet-to-be-introduced female voice said.

“I’m sorry that he’s gone. I wanted to chat with him about his book events.”

“We’ll have to do another call for that.”

“No, I need to finish this now. We have the book out next week and he has appearances scheduled. It’s taken far too long to coordinate this call. Can you get him back on the line please?”

“Sorry, Master is gone. Please email me the specifics.”

“One caller has disconnected,” the automated voice said. Then repeated it three times. The female caller and the other creepy, non-descript callers also left.

Pete stood up, grabbing his soda and note pad. “That went well.” He smiled as he left the room.

Fuck you, Pete,
Kate thought and then dropped her head on the desk.