The Publicist Book One and Two (39 page)

Chapter Forty-Five

When Nick arrived home, Kate was making dinner. When he walked through the door, she greeted him with a glass of wine.

“Katie,” Nick smiled, “what’s going on?”

She kissed him on cheek. “I have great news,” she smiled.

Nick lowered himself onto a chair. “Do tell.”

Kate took her glass and joined him. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to publish Allan’s book, and today I finally made a few calls.”

“And?”

“We’re going to become a publishing house.’

“We?” he grinned.

“Yes, you and me. I figured you’d want to be part of it, right?”

Nick shook his head. “No, dear Kate. My uncle’s book is your baby. You should have it all.”

“But I want to give you something; I mean, if this makes money, you know–”

He put a hand over hers. “Let’s figure that part out later. Right now you should be focused on getting his book out there.”

Kate smiled; it was the biggest and broadest smile he’d seen on her face in a while. “I’m already working on that. I found a typist who is willing to work overtime to type up the manuscript. I made a copy and FedEx’d it to her this afternoon, and I also have someone working on the book cover.”

Nick was obviously surprised. “Wow, Kate, that was fast.”

She sipped her wine. “It has to be fast. I want Allan’s book out by November.”

Chapter Forty-Six

Kate made no formal announcement that she’d become a publisher. She figured that folks would find out soon enough. Besides, the focus needed to remain on
After the Fall
, Allan Lavigne’s second and final book. She asked Nick for his input on potential names for the new publishing house, and they debated at length, finally agreeing on Lavigne House. Simple and elegant. Allan would have gotten such a kick out of having his own publishing company.

Kate kept busy hiring the freelancers and managing the different pieces of the project to get the book completed on time. The Lavigne House logo was almost complete and the website would be launching in a week. The book’s cover turned out beautifully and the interior layout was finished. In true Allan fashion, the book needed minimal editing so that process went faster than she’d anticipated. This project was turning out to be an expensive endeavor since she paid rush fees to get everything done in time. Her severance from MD was coming in quite handy.

By the end of July, her first shipment of galleys had gone to reviewers and she eagerly awaited the first responses. Kate had issued a press release to the major media outlets and reached out to the Small Press Department at Barnes & Noble. She was thrilled they asked her to FedEx them a copy of the book. Just as she hoped, the industry was buzzing about a new book by Allan Lavigne. Moreover, Kate Mitchell had gone from being a publicist to a publisher.

Publishers Lunch
had a story about it in their newsletter that morning:

Turns out there is life after publishing, at least if your name is Kate Mitchell and you have a book written by the late, great, Allan Lavigne. Perhaps the only great novelist of his time. The book, titled After the Fall, is scheduled for a November 12 release. So, is Lavigne’s second book as good as his first? Several early reports say it’s even better. We also know that Morris and Dean decided to get rid of Lavigne and canceled his second book deal before he died. The book was then willed to Ms. Mitchell, who resigned from MD earlier this summer. If this book does as well as Lavigne’s first, we suspect that the folks at Morris and Dean will have little to celebrate come the end of the year. Things have already been tricky there, after the debacle of The Continued Promise and the loss of their top editor, MacDermott Ellis. Welcome back to publishing, Kate.

Kate read the entry and emailed the link to Nick. They would have to celebrate tonight.

Her phone rang. “Hello,” her voice was chipper. There was indeed much to be happy about.

“Kate, it’s Lulu!”

She was surprised. Dear Lulu, they’d emailed a few times but she wasn’t expecting a call.

“Lu, it’s great to hear from you.”

“Kate, oh my God. I just read
Publishers Lunch
. Are you kidding? Are you a publisher now?”

“I am.” Kate smiled; she could just see Lulu in all her exuberance—smiling, arms flailing while she talked.

“I want to come work for you. Seriously, you don’t even need to pay me; I just want to help out.” Lulu waited for a response. When Kate didn’t answer, she blurted, “I quit MD. I couldn’t take it there anymore.”

“Lu, I’m sorry to hear that, really, but I think I’m fine right now. Besides I’m in California.”

“I can work virtually. I have a friend who’s a virtual assistant. She was telling me how easy it is to work that way. Please! I really want to help out. And I’m serious about not getting paid; Justin said I could do it, if it’s what I want,” Lulu added, referring to her husband.

Kate smiled, she actually knew better than to try and talk her former assistant out of anything. “Okay,” she said, “but I insist that I pay you.”

As soon as she hung up with Lulu, her phone buzzed again. She recognized the number as the
New York Times
.

“Kate Mitchell,” she began, trying to steady her voice.

“Kate, it’s Bill. How are you?”

“I’m good. Thanks, Bill. What’s up?”

“I called to talk with you about Allan’s book.”

Kate’s heart began pounding in her chest. “Oh, great,” she tried to sound nonchalant. She wasn’t sure she pulled it off.

“Look, we’re crazy about
After the Fall
over here. Holy crap, Kate, Lavigne really outdid himself.”

Kate steadied herself. A review in the
Times
was bigger than she’d ever expected, “That’s great, Bill, I’m so glad to hear it. So, we can expect a review?”

“Better than that. I mean a review, yes, of course. But we want to do a story on Lavigne—his work, his life. It’ll run in our book magazine right before the review appears. What do you think?”

She was certain Allan was smiling from heaven. Kate fought back the tears. “I-I think that would be fantastic.”

“Great. I’ll need some personal data. I know you were friends with Allan, and maybe an interview with his nephew. Nicholas is his name. Can you get in touch with him?”

Kate smiled. “I’m sure I can.”

“Great, I’ll email you the details—what we need, etc. And if it’s okay, I’d like to run an excerpt of this book. It’s just fantastic, Kate. Did Allan really write this and just sit on it?”

“He did,” she nodded. It really was a shame.

“Boy, writers, huh? What a fickle bunch,” Bill chuckled. “All right, I’ll be in touch.”

Kate couldn’t believe it. She picked up the phone and dialed Nick.

“Katie. How’s my favorite publisher?”

“The
New York Times
is going to review Allan’s book and do a story on him.”

Nick was silent for a moment. “Wait, you’re kidding, right?”

“No, they loved it. Do you know what this could mean?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “it means you’ve arrived, Katie Mitchell.”

As Kate hung up the phone, she noticed a new text message. It was from Rebecca.
I emailed the link on the Pub Lunch story to Edward. I think I just heard him fall over from a stroke. I’ll wait a few minutes and go check. Rock on, girl! XO

Kate laughed out loud at Rebecca’s note. For a moment, she missed the hum of New York and being in an office.

When Nick hung up, he was still smiling. His uncle would have been so pleased. He leaned back in his chair and thought of Kate at home. His home. Maybe even someday
their
home. She’d been with him a month and he had done his best to give her the space he thought she needed, but as August loomed, he was wondering if she’d ever recover from whatever relationship she had with Mac. He couldn’t imagine it was much of one, especially since he was married. He’d given her plenty of room, to recover, to mourn, to find herself, to do whatever she needed to. But now he was done with that. He was over the wait and decided that if he was ever going to win Kate’s heart, he’d need to put up a fight for her—even if it meant battling the ghost of MacDermott Ellis.

Quickly, he dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.

“Hey Nick. What’s up?”

“Get dressed.”

Kate laughed, “I am dressed, silly boy.”

“No, I mean really dressed. I’m leaving work in a few and we’re going out to celebrate.”

“I’d like that,” she replied. “I’d like that very much.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Nick took Kate to Café La Bohème in downtown Los Angeles. The restaurant was filled with the hum of conversation and smiling, happy people. Kate was mostly cooped up in Nick’s house, so it was good to get out. Well, “cooped up” was not really the right term for a house that had the square footage of Nick’s, but still, it was nice to be somewhere else for a little while. The Los Angeles restaurant scene was much different from New York. The vibe felt less frenzied and more relaxed somehow. Part of the energy of New York came because it was in a sense communal living. You could run into anyone at any time. Gwyneth Paltrow at Whole Foods, or Diane Sawyer on a subway. That was part of the energy of the city but also the frenzy. In California, people smiled easily and seemed less harried. The ebb of it soothed Kate’s mind, but what she enjoyed the most was that nothing looked familiar. She could turn a million corners in Los Angeles and never bounce into some memory, some flashback to a time she was trying to escape. Most of them related to Mac.

As they were escorted to their table, Nick put a gentle hand on her back; it was warm and safe. She felt safe with Nick, or safer than she had. At one time, not so long ago, she’d been pretty attracted to this handsome man with movie-star good looks. Kate still felt that attraction, but it was buried beneath her battle scars. She settled into her seat and smiled at him.

“I am so happy, Nick.”

He smiled back, a brilliant, sexy smile. “I’m glad for that, Kate. You look, I don’t know, at peace I guess.”

“Well, this project and the distance have helped more than you can know. Thank you so much.” She stretched her hand across the table and touched his. Was that a butterfly? Something fluttered inside her.

Nick curled his fingers around hers. “It’s been my pleasure, Kate. Really. I’m glad I could do this for you.”

The server approached. Nick kept a tight hold on Kate’s hand. “We’d like a bottle of champagne—best you’ve got.”

“Yes sir, right away.” The server smiled and faded away.

“Champagne?” Kate smiled. She was enjoying the feel of Nick’s hand.

“We have a lot to celebrate. Uncle Allan would be so proud of you, Kate.”

Kate looked away for a moment. God, she missed Allan. Collecting herself, she looked back at Nick, a broad smile swept over her face.

“I got some more great news after you called,” she said mysteriously.

Nick slowly released her hand, although what he wanted was to scoop her up out of her seat and kiss her. Hard.

“Tell me,” he blinked.

“I called Barnes & Noble and told them about the
New York Times
piece. They’ve increased their book order to five thousand.”

“Is that good?”

Kate nodded. “Well, when I was at MD, we’d see orders ranging from two thousand to ten thousand, so it was a bit all over the board. I’d say five thousand is a good number. Really good, actually.”

“So, what’s next for the promotion? And, not to sound indelicate, but how do you promote a book by a deceased author?”

“Right, tricky. Well, I’m going to call the morning shows tomorrow to see if they want to do a piece on Allan and introduce the book that way.” She hesitated for a minute, “Nick, there’s a chance that they may want to interview you.”

Nick looked surprised. The idea honestly hadn’t even occurred to him. “Kate, I-I am not a TV person. I mean, I don’t really want to go on TV. This is your show. If they want to interview someone, it should be you.”

She shook her head. “No one will want to talk with the publisher, I’m sure, but you—you know they might want to chat with you. If they ask, are you open to it?”

He nodded. “If it helps the book, I’m game.”

After dinner, Nick suggested a late night walk on the beach. There was a delicate, warm breeze and the beach was nearly empty. Couples walked hand in hand along the shore. A group of people sat near a fire pit, roasting hot dogs. Laughter rose up from them as gentle sparks lit up the night and then vanished into the air.

Nick kicked off his shoes and Kate followed his lead.

“I love the ocean at night,” he said. Taking her hand, he led her to the water. “I don’t get here as much as I’d like.”

“Work, work, work,” Kate smiled.

Nick turned to her. God, she was beautiful in the moonlight; her hair fell in dark, shiny waves around her face. Nick took a breath. “I’ve been staying at work intentionally, Kate.”

The water came up, covered their feet, and then retreated back. “I know you have,” she said, in almost a whisper. She turned to Nick and found herself staring at his mouth. Kate wanted to kiss him, to feel that warm, soft mouth. She leaned forward.

“Thank you,” she breathed, and she touched his lips with her own. He reached for her, pulling her to him. Kate’s arms went around his neck and Nick’s kiss deepened. He hands went to her face, holding her as he devoured her mouth. His need evident, he pulled back, not wanting to go too far, too soon.

Kate smiled up at him. “I’ve missed you,” she said finally.

Nick couldn’t take his eyes off of her lips. He wanted them again, desperately, but he knew he needed to back off.

“And I, you.”

They walked a good stretch of beach and then back to the car, hand in hand. They talked about the book, his stores, but he carefully skirted any topic related to them or their future. Too much too soon.

…

Kate lay in her bed, thinking of the kiss, how warm and honest it was. A kiss in public. She’d missed that. Holding hands in a restaurant, being with someone who could be with her. She thought of Nick down the hall and thought of the time they were together in New York, in her bed. Suddenly, she flung the covers off of herself, walked out of her room, and tapped lightly on Nick’s door.

“Yes?” he said, and she pushed the door open.

Kate walked in, wearing a thin t-shirt and delicate laced panties.

God help him. “Kate, is everything okay?” he asked. She needed to go, go, go, or he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

Kate nodded and walked over to his bed.

Go, go, go,
Nick thought.

“Everything is fine, Nick. Finally.” She sat down, touched his bare chest, and then pulled her t-shirt off. Her breasts bounced as she did.

“God, Kate…”

“Don’t talk.” Kate kissed him, pushing him down on the bed. Nick reached around, pulling her tightly to him, her nipples pressed into his chest. He pulled the sheet down. His desire was deep and hot, but he didn’t want to rush this.

“Kate,” he said in a voice hoarse with desire, “are you sure?”

“Yes. Sure.”

Nick pressed his mouth to hers, prying her lips open with his tongue. Kate could feel him against her thigh, hard and throbbing. She wanted him, too, much more than she’d realized. Nick slipped a finger into her panties. Tugging them off, they fell into a silent silky puddle on the floor. His mouth found one of her nipples and licked it softly. He felt a surge of hot, electric energy surge through him. Nick immediately grew hard and he could feel himself pressing into his shorts, begging to be freed.
Pace yourself
, he thought,
slow down
. He ran his tongue down her stomach, tasting her warm skin. Pushing her legs apart, he began tasting her. Kate thought her head was going to explode.

“Now,” she breathed. “I want you now.”

Nick kept his tongue on her, teasing her, tasting her. Kate writhed beneath him. Finally, when neither of them could take it anymore, he pushed himself up and inside her. She was soft and warm, he covered her mouth with his, and he rocked inside her, tossing and turning in a sexual storm that lasted well through the night.