The Publicist Book One and Two (4 page)

Chapter Four

The phone shrieked to life at three a.m. Kate pushed through a fog of sleep and realized the shrilling was coming from her bedside table. A call in the middle of the night was never good. As she fought to fully clear her mind, she worried that it was her mother calling to tell her it was her father. A heart attack? Or maybe her brother in Afghanistan? None of it was good, she was certain of that.

“Hello?” she said hesitantly and still half-asleep. There was sobbing at the other end of the phone, which caused her to sit upright immediately.

“Mom?” she said to the female voice at the other end. “Mom, is that you? Are you okay?”

More sobbing.

“Mom, please answer me.”

“Kate, it’s me. Sasha,” the sobbing continued. For a moment, Kate couldn’t recall the name. A childhood friend? Neighbor of her parents? Suddenly it hit her: Sasha, her author. But how could she—?

“The review, Kate, it’s horrible. The whole world hates me.” Sasha interrupted her thoughts as she continued to sob through the phone.

“I just picked up an advance copy of
The
Times
,” she explained, her breath coming out in heaving gasps. “Everyone hates me.”

“Sasha, everyone doesn’t hate you—just
The
Times
.” The minute the statement was out of her mouth, she realized it was a mistake. The sobbing grew more intense as though someone had suddenly cut off her right hand, thereby ending any future attempts at ever writing again. Kate frowned. She could write with her mouth, holding a pencil. Kate had seen someone do it on a reality show once, or maybe it was a biography on
Lifetime
. She couldn’t recall. The sobbing wore on. Kate knew she needed to say something.

“Sasha, listen. I didn’t mean that.
The
Times
doesn’t hate you. Don’t put too much credibility in that reviewer. I hear he’s illiterate, anyway, and wouldn’t know a good book if it walked up and bit him in the ass.”

Sasha continued sobbing. “It’s my life’s work!” she screamed.

Kate wanted to bash her head in with the phone; it was not her life’s work. She was twenty-two, and while the book wasn’t as horrible as
The
Times
review would claim it to be, if this was the extent of her life’s work, they were all in trouble. MD had signed Sasha for a three-book deal, but Kate was certain the minute Edward saw this review he would be courting his lawyers to get them out of the deal—unless she could produce something that would warrant a kind nod from
The
Times
.

“Listen, Sasha.
The
Washington Post
is doing a story on it. I saw the advanced copy and it’s a good one—”

“Who gives a crap about
The
Post
? They’re not even in New York,” Sasha spat into the phone. Much like Edward, Sasha was a New York snob. And while she wanted everyone to believe she’d been born and raised in New York, her birth certificate begged to differ. Sasha, or Susan as she was named at birth, heralded from Lincoln, Nebraska, but she refused to acknowledge either her real name or her birthplace.

“Sasha, don’t worry. It’ll be fine. I promise. We’ll fix this.” As soon as Kate said those words, she realized she’d been saying that a lot lately. She was just grateful she wasn’t on a rooftop somewhere trying to talk another author out of jumping. She might just let one jump next time. No, she couldn’t do that. They were just misguided. And self-absorbed. Yes, that too. But not all of them; just
her
authors. Or so it seemed. Sometimes she swore MD made all their authors take a personality test, and the craziest, most unstable ones were given to Kate.

Sasha was speaking, but Kate was absorbed in her own thoughts.

“How?!” Sasha screamed again; she hated it when people ignored her. Kate knew this from months back when an email Sasha had sent to her wasn’t responded to for an hour. Sasha finally called to see if Kate had left the company. She had been at lunch when the email came in.

“Well, don’t you have an iPhone?” Sasha had insisted. Kate had gone to Mac to see if they could move up the street date of the book, thereby ending the length of time she’d have to work with Sasha. Mac just laughed and said it wasn’t possible. Kate knew this, of course, but it was worth a try.

“Sasha, it’s three a.m. I have an eight a.m. breakfast meeting with the head of Barnes & Noble on Fifth to talk about your signing, and I need to get my sleep. I will call you once the meeting is over and we’ve finalized the plans for your event.”

“What if they cancel?!” She was still yelling. Kate couldn’t take it anymore. It was now twenty after three, and she needed to get this lunatic off the phone as quickly as she could.

“They won’t. Good night, Sasha. I’ll speak with you tomorrow.” Kate ended the call and turned her phone off. She lay in bed for a few minutes, recalling the irrational tone in Sasha’s voice and making a mental note to recommend to Mac that they assign her to a new PR person for her next book if MD decided to renew her option.

Kate drifted back off to sleep, wondering briefly how the hell Sasha had gotten a hold of her unlisted number.

Chapter Eight

“How did Sasha get my home phone number?” Kate stood in Mac’s doorway. He looked up and smiled.

“Good morning to you, too, Katie.” Mac leaned back in his chair, smiling broadly.

“Seriously, Mac. She called me at home at three this morning. She was hysterical.”

“You didn’t know? Her father is CIA,” Mac said, emphasizing the A.

Kate walked into his office and dropped herself into a chair. “Great. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“I would have, but who would have known she’d use Daddy for her own personal gain?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mac, this is Sasha we’re talking about after all.”

“Well, listen. I’ll have a talk with her and make sure it doesn’t happen again. Was she calling about her review in
The Times
?”

“No, she was
wailing
about her review, and yes, please do talk to her.” Kate got up to leave. “What the hell am I going to do with this, Mac?”

“Do with what, Katie? A bad review? This isn’t your fault, you know.”

Kate sighed, “I know, but I’m a publicist. People expect me to just magically make everything all right.”

“I think you used all of your magic up on Haley, Kate. You did a great job rescuing that, by the way.”

Kate was so sick of talking about Haley should could scream, but she knew Mac meant well. “Thanks, Mac,” she said quietly and started to get up to leave.

“Katie, wait. I have something else I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Not here. Over dinner,” Mac let the word dinner hang in the air, almost intentionally.

Kate frowned, “What’s going on, Mac?”

“Nothing but a big project for you, and I think you’ll want to hear about it over dinner.” He smiled.

“A big project? How big?”

“Big.”

“Okay, does seven work for you for dinner?”

“I’ll make reservations.”

“Reservations? What’s this about? Can’t we just grab a sandwich somewhere?”

“No, Katie, this is big. You’ll want to celebrate this.”

Kate smiled and left Mac’s office, wondering what he was up to.

Chapter Nine

In every publisher’s career, there is always at least one book that becomes a publishing legend. Morris & Dean was fortunate to have several such titles, but most recently it had been a book called
The Promise
. Written by a Texas housewife,
The Promise
was a runaway bestseller. Spending no less than fifty-four weeks in the top five of
The
New York Times
bestseller list,
The Promise
was the topic of several
Oprah
shows as well as being featured by Larry King, Donny Deutsch, and Ellen DeGeneres. The book’s premise was based on the age-old law of attraction theory but packaged with numerous industry experts, each of whom brought their own flavor to the material. There was an interview-type movie, a workbook, several DVDs, and the authors had each done their own spin-offs of the various theories cited in the book. Everyone, including MD, made millions. No one quite understood how a Texas housewife with no formal education could have pulled this off, but the joke at cocktail parties was that apparently the law of attraction works, even in Texas.

…

Patroon was a quiet establishment just off of Lexington on Forty-Sixth Street. Mac loved it there for its intimate setting. It was his favorite spot to bring new authors. They were so impressed by the setting, it was often all Mac needed to do to seal a publishing deal. From time to time, Mac even brought a female guest there or two—none of them authors, and none of them interested in anything but MacDermott Ellis.

He was early tonight, anxious to see Kate and tell her the news. Or so he convinced himself. But truth be told, he was eager to see her out of the office and relaxed.

While Mac was sidling up with a drink, Kate was still fumbling in her closet for something to wear when her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Katie, it’s Grace. Whatcha doing? I have a new painting to show you. Why don’t you come over?”

“Can’t, my talented friend. I’m meeting someone for dinner.”

This spiked Grace’s interest. “Ooooh, a date?”

“No, Grace, just dinner with Mac.”

“Mac? Why?”

“He’s got something he wants to discuss with me.” Kate plucked a black sheath dress from her closet and inspected it for a minute before tossing it on the bed with three other dresses she was considering.

“
Discuss something
? I bet he does. Honey, this is Mac we’re talking about.”

“Grace, please. It’s business.”

“Then why couldn’t he discuss it during office hours?”

Kate sighed. It was a good question; one even she didn’t know the answer to. “I don’t know, Grace. He just insisted we meet for dinner.”

“Be careful, Katie.” Her friend said sternly.

“Grace, I swear, I’m not interested in Mac that way.”

Her friend almost chuckled at the other end of the phone. “Come on, Katie. It’s Mac for Christ’s sake.
Everyone’s
interested in him in that way.”

Patroon was buzzing when Kate arrived a fashionable ten minutes late. Mac was still at the bar sipping his first martini when he spotted her.

“Katie!” he waved her over. Kate wore a tight fitting black dress that set off her sleek figure and dark hair. Mac couldn’t help but notice how her hips moved under the fabric.

“Hello, Mac. I see you’ve started without me.” Kate smiled.

“Just one, Kate. Why don’t you order something, then we’ll get our table?”

“Sure, but only if you promise to tell me what we’re here for. The suspense is killing me.”

Mac lifted the glass to his lips, sipped at his martini, and drew his lips into a slight smile.

“I’m sorry, Katie. I didn’t mean to keep you on pins and needles, but this is so big. I wanted a special moment to tell you.”

Kate was truly perplexed; she had no idea what it could be. “What?” she asked. The bartender walked up just then, taking her order.

“Let’s wait for your drink,” Mac said mysteriously, throwing her a broad, welcoming smile. Kate was certain that many women had fallen in love with Mac just based on his smile alone. Fortunately, she wasn’t one of them. She was here for business, and damn it, she wanted him to tell her, but she knew better than to push.

“You’re killing me,” she laughed.

The bartender quickly set her drink down and Kate picked up the glass. “I’m ready now.”

Mac turned in his chair to face her. “Okay, here goes. You know the success we had from
The Promise
, yes?”

Kate frowned. “Of course I do, Mac. I mean, we’ve all lived through it.”

“Well, there’s more. Much more. MD has decided to publish a sequel to
The Promise
, written by one of the authors who contributed to the original book—Michael something or other. I can’t recall right now, but anyway, the book will be called
The Continued Promise,
and we’re scheduling it for a fall release. No one knows about this but Edward and me. Nothing has officially been released on this yet. I wanted to tell you first before we announce it.”

Kate was confused. “But, what does this have to do with me?”

Mac placed a hand on her arm. “We want you to be the lead publicist on this book.”

When
The Promise
eclipsed a million copies, Kate had wondered at the time what it would be like to work on such a runaway bestseller. Margaret Leeds, who had been with MD for years and was one of the most unpleasant people Kate had ever met, led the brigade to publicize
The Promise
. Despite Kate’s misgivings of Margaret, she had been in awe of her. Every detail was executed to sheer perfection, and Kate couldn’t fathom if there was a sequel out, why on earth Margaret wouldn’t be handling that too.

“I know what you’re thinking, Kate,” Mac whispered, “but let’s just say that Margaret’s off the case. In fact, she’s leaving MD next week, but no one knows this yet.”

“So, I got this book by default. Fun.” Kate sipped her martini. Just what she wanted to be—the last choice on the list.

“No, Katie, not at all. You know there are a lot of senior people who should have gotten this before you, but Edward insisted you get this job.”

Kate smiled, “Edward insisted? Or you insisted to Edward.”

Mac shrugged his broad shoulders. “I just think it’s time you get to work on a book that matches your talents. You’ve done well for MD, Kate. This is your chance to prove it.”

Kate was stunned. Mac had gone to bat to get her possibly the biggest book of her career. In the back of her mind, she knew what Grace would say about this, that Mac was teeing her up for sex—that Mac only wanted one thing. Well, maybe Grace was right, but the rest of the evening proved otherwise. Kate and Mac spent the dinner planning their strategy. Since this was Mac’s book, he was keen on being involved in every aspect of the promotion. There was a lot to do, starting with flying out to Seattle to meet the author in the coming weeks.

Kate could hardly believe her luck. That night, she had a hard time getting to sleep.
The Continued Promise
as her book. It would be her ticket to better authors, better books, and the respect she yearned for. Maybe now her career was finally going to take a turn for the better.