The Publicist Book One and Two (47 page)

2

Kate finished her shower in record time, threw her stuff in her bag and left her hair to air dry. It wouldn’t look pretty, but today wasn’t a day for vanity. She would go in, fix whatever was wrong (hopefully without being seen by anyone), and then race home and change into more appropriate new-author-book-signing attire. Annabelle sounded desperate and Kate promised her she’d get there as quickly as she could.

The gym showers were located below the lobby, and by the time Kate ran up the stairs, two at a time, she was sweaty again. It promised to be another unusually hot day in the city. Especially for mid-May. A string of three sweltering days in a row had New Yorkers feeling testy. With temps in the high 90’s, the A/C in most places, including the Y, was strained to its limits.

Kate nodded to the desk clerk, a perky blond with perky tits who probably just smiled at the treadmill to get into shape while Kate spent hours on various relentless machines just to keep her late thirties figure in check. “Bye Katie!” the blond waved as Kate practically flew through the lobby. She pushed open the doors and was immediately assaulted by the heat; even this early in the day it was blistering. The subways would be worse, heat trapped and mixed with the stale stench of body odor and urine. It was, without a doubt, the least pleasant side of New York. Kate pulled her phone from her purse, checking her messages again. Five more from Annabelle.

“Fuck,” she said and then slammed into a passerby, dropping the entire contents of her purse and gym bag all over the hot sidewalk. “Damn it!” she could see that she’d bumped into a man, “Sorry about that,” she mumbled before she dropped to her knees to pick everything up.

“You seem in a hurry,” he said.

That voice.

It was unmistakable. Kate didn’t even look up. She was certain that her frantic mind was playing games on her.

“I’m really sorry,” she said again, this time she looked up to confirm it was just her imagination run amuck.

No such luck. Instead, she found Nick Lavigne towering over her. The sun formed almost a halo behind his head, illuminating him like some Greek god.

“Nick?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

He only smiled.

3

Kate suddenly realized that she was kneeling, sporting wet hair, very little makeup, and the grungy outfit she’d worn to the gym. She also realized that the shower had been useless; she was sweating both from the sprint out of the gym and the scorching, humid weather. She did not look her best. Or, you know, how you’d want to look when you’ve just run into your old boyfriend. No, scratch that, your former fiancé. The one you dumped so you could go back to your once married lover who dumped his wife so he could be with you. Well, it was more complicated than that. It always is. Nick had been her lifesaver when her entire life had fallen apart and she’d taken his ring, accepted his offer, then given it back.

Not her finest moment.

She stood up, “Nick.” She said again.
Say something else
, she thought,
something brilliant, something witty about running into someone on the streets of New York. Maybe the line from Casablanca, ‘Of all the bars in all the world.’ No, that wouldn’t work. Still too soon to use that one.

Nick was frowning, “Kate, are you all right? Can I help you collect your things?” A dog passing by with its owner sniffed her curling iron that had rolled across the sidewalk and almost peed on it. Kate hardly noticed.

“Eh, yeah, sure.” She bent down to grab the curling iron and a few other things that had scattered everywhere. She took a deep breath and stood up. “Nick, sorry, I was just caught off guard. What are you doing here?”

He flashed her a broad smile, that brilliant Southern California boy smile, his light green eyes almost sparkling in the sun. No one had the right to look that good.

“Good to see you, too.”

Kate shook her head, “I’m sorry, Nick.” She went to hug him and stopped short. What’s the proper greeting when seeing an ex fiancé? A hug? A peck on the cheek? Kate realized she wasn’t sure. She decided a peck was probably the safest route to go. It had been what, a year since she’d seen him? In his uncle’s apartment. That bitter cold day and their equally bitter encounter that had ended in tears, mostly hers.

Nick bent his head as she kissed him on the cheek. Her lips still sent a tingle down his spine. Had it really been a year? He quickly pulled himself together.

“I’m here on business actually. Opening three stores—in Manhattan, The Village, and Brooklyn.”

Kate’s eyes flew open, “Wow, that’s great.”

“An investor came forward, wanting to bring them to the east, so we’re giving this a shot. They’re slated to open in September.” He hesitated for a moment, “I hope you will come to the open house.” Nick stopped abruptly, looking off in the distance, “You and Mac of course.” He almost whispered Mac’s name. Saying it hurt more than he’d anticipated.

Kate suddenly felt nervous; this conversation was going in an awkward direction. She needed to change it, and fast, “Sure, I’d love to. So who is managing the stores in So Cal while you’re here?”
Great conversation shift,
she commended herself.

Nick swallowed hard, “So, I gather you’re married, or soon to be.” Nick nodded towards her left hand and the sparkle of her ring.

Damn it, there went her applause. She was slightly annoyed that he ignored her brilliant attempt to shift the conversation.

Kate licked her lips, “N-No, not yet.”

“Oh. When’s the date?”

“We haven’t set one. We’re waiting.” No, this wasn’t going well at all.

Nick cocked his head, “Waiting?” The word sounded uncomfortable and stupid.

‘Waiting.’
Kate thought,
‘For what?’

Kate nodded, for someone who worked with words every day, she sure had trouble finding hers right now, “Well, there’s been a lot going on.” It was a sad excuse and they both knew it. She was waiting, though why she wasn’t sure. Uncertainty perhaps? She insisted it was because she was so busy with Lavigne House and Mac, being Mac, didn’t push it. He had told her, “I’ve been married before, Kate; I’m fine staying like we are. Marriage is just a state of mind and my mind is made up.” She told herself it was sweet and impossibly understanding.

Nick nodded, “Well, anyway, whenever it is I’m sure it’ll be great.”
Kate felt like she couldn’t breathe. She recalled an old publishing joke: The Past and Future walked into a bar, it was tense. She felt a bit like that now, tense and suffocating. Maybe it was the weather, maybe it was the fact that her phone had been buzzing with messages the entire time. She knew that if she didn’t get to the bookstore, she might end up helping Annabelle hide a body instead of just fixing a signing. Or maybe it was the fact that her past had come back to haunt her, right here on a New York street.

“Nick, I’m sorry, I have to go.” Kate held up her phone, as if it was proof of her emergency.

He nodded and smiled again, “Of course. Good to see you, Kate. I’ll make sure to let you know when the grand opening is.”

She stopped for a moment, remembering a time when Nick had been her best friend. When something good happened, or even something bad, he was the first person she wanted to tell.

“I’ve missed you.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She could hear the subway running beneath the sidewalk and suddenly wished the concrete would open up and drop her in front of a speeding subway train. It would have been less painful and awkward than this moment.

“I-I mean, we were friends…” Kate added, wishing someone would sew her mouth shut. Nothing that she added to the conversation at this point could help it.

“Yes, we were friends, then we weren’t.” Nick spoke softly, but she could hear the slight bite in his voice.
Then we weren’t and it’s all your fault.
He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to.

“Right.” She said quickly, “Well, I have to go.”

“Take care, Kate.” Nick turned and walked the other way, up 14
th
Street and away from her. It was a relief that someone, clearly more mature than her, had ended the torture.

Kate walked towards the subway station. It was just her luck that in a city of two million people, she could run into the one person who could, with a simple word, make her feel like a complete dumbass. She ran one of the most successful companies in publishing, she had published a mega-bestseller and none of it mattered. She’d broken Nick Lavigne’s heart and now, by sheer chance or some ass-kicking karma, she’d run into him. Not only that, but she remained unmarried, despite the fact that she’d raced from his arms into Mac’s. It had been the right thing to do, she loved Mac. She adored Mac. Still, she wasn’t married to him. She hadn’t rushed to the altar.

Waiting.

They were waiting. For what? That ever-elusive sign from God? Angels from the heaven to come down and bless their union? Doubtful at this point. Or maybe the sign was a chance meeting with a former fiancé who had been a nurturing, loving man. The man who had cared for her in her darkest hour and brought her back from the brink. Someone she had loved.

An author she once worked with wrote that, “love is never over, just over there.”

As she descended into the subway, Kate realized how true those words really were.

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