Authors: Christina George
The Publicist (10 page)
“She didn’t,” Mac sipped his wine, watching the restroom door for Jade’s return, “I’m certain of it. Edward says she did but I doubt it. My gut tells me she’s done nothing but licking Michael’s stamps, and probably a few other things….”
Kate nearly spit up her drink, “Jesus, Mac, stop it…”
He chuckled, “Just trying to make sure you’re paying attention, Katie….” He smiled.
.
Michael Singer’s office was an impressive mix of technology and modern décor. The computers were all sleek Apples and unlike the offices she worked at in New York, there were no cords anywhere to be found. The environment seemed almost sterile. Everyone wore cordless headsets and the desks were freestanding frosted glass. She was escorted from the tightly secured lobby to the 26
th
floor in this massive high-rise. Singer’s team occupied the entire floor and when the elevator doors opened, she and Mac were greeted by a woman with red, short-cropped hair, a brief smile and polite manner. Kate bristled at the lack of warmth the office maintained and wondered for a moment how the author of a warm and fuzzy law of attraction book could survive in such an environment.
They were asked to wait in the small but expensively appointed exterior lobby to Singer’s office. There were no magazines, just copies of
The Promise
with his contribution pages highlighted.
“I already like this guy,” Mac said almost ironically as he held up one of the copies of the book. Kate smiled but remained silent. The room felt austere, and she was almost afraid to speak. In fact she had a funny feeling that everything they said was being recorded.
“Mac, can I ask what Singer does for a living?”
Mac thought for a moment, “Does it really matter?”
“Well, sort of,” she frowned, “if I’m going to push him on interviews, someone is bound to ask me.”
“He does speaking, you know, motivational stuff, all over the country. He also runs a charity for kids.” Mac reached down on the table and handed her a flyer, “See, Kids First, they gift books to kids who don’t have them, promote reading, etc. That’s pretty much all I know.”
“Well, I’m going to have to dig a little deeper than that.” Kate said.
“Katie,” Mac smiled, leaning into her, “you can dig as deep as you want, this guy has got it all going on, when he speaks, he draws crowds in by the thousands. That’s why we want to promote this book—lots of loyal followers.”
A door opened and in the doorway stood a tall, handsome, neatly dressed man. He bore a warm, friendly smile. Unlike the almost austere and sterile surroundings he found himself in, he seemed at first glance to be anything but sterile.
“Mac,” he smiled, “good to see you again!” he shook Mac’s hand briskly then turned to Kate, “And you must be Katharine Mitchell, the publicist for the book.”
“Mr. Singer,” she smiled, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Ms. Mitchell Mr. Singer was my father, it’s Michael to you.”
“Michael, it’s nice to meet you. And please, call me Kate.”
“Likewise, Kate. Now please come into my office to we can plan the rollout of this blockbuster best seller.”
The meeting lasted through the early afternoon. Mac was thrilled to find that Michael has written about 80% of the book but was just waiting on some scientific data to help substantiate his claims.
“You know, Mac,” Michael began, sipping his foam-free, half-caf, extra hot, non-fat cappuccino that an immaculately dressed woman had brought in to him minutes before, “I really want this book to be different. I want it to stand on its own merit and I want those naysayers to be able to look at the data in this book and realize there’s something to this law of attraction stuff.”
“I agree,” Mac nodded, his hands around the plain black coffee he’d asked for. The assistant had looked almost startled that Mac would order something so unfancy. “I think it’s a good idea to include it, I’m sure Edward will be pleased too. I’ll be sure and tell him when I get back to New York.”
They agreed to speak in two weeks when Michael’s manuscript was due and with a pair of brisk handshakes, Michael escorted them to his door and left them in the capable hands of his assistant to lead them out of the office. Once they were in the elevator Mac turned to Kate who had been noticeably silent the last hour of their visit. “So, Kate, what do you think?”
“I think the book sounds exciting.” Kate said, her voice lacking enthusiasm.
“Forgive me for saying this, Kate, but you could be talking about the latest no-name memoir instead of the next blockbuster book to hit the market.”
Kate inhaled deeply, realizing she needed to pull herself together. Something had rattled her during the meeting and she wasn’t sure what it was. Whatever it was, she needed to keep herself in check. The last thing she needed was for Mac to doubt her ability to handle this.
“I’m sorry, Mac, I think I’m suffering from time zone fatigue.”
Mac nodded, “That’s understandable. I tell you what. Let’s head back to the hotel and you can take a nap. Then we’ll go have dinner someplace casual and talk about Singer’s book. Sound fair?”
“Sounds fair, Mac, thanks.”
.
A little over an hour later Kate was refreshed and dressed for dinner in a white shirt and a simple pair of her favorite jeans she’d packed at the last minute. At 5 p.m. there was a light tap at her door. She opened it and welcomed Mac in but he just smiled and said “Let’s go, Katie, I want to show you Seattle on our last night in the Pacific Northwest.”
The Crab Shack was buzzing with voices and laughter. The atmosphere felt relaxing and Kate finally felt herself start to shake a tiny bit of the edgy feeling she’d picked up in Singer’s office earlier that day.
“Kate, if you don’t mind I’m going to order for us. There’s only one thing you should have here and you can’t leave Seattle without trying their King Crab. It’s so good, it’s sinful.” Mac set his menu down and flagged the waitress over. After he placed their order and the waitress brought their drinks, beer and a white wine, he said: “So, Kate, you’re feeling better, yes?”
“Much better, Mac, thanks. I think Michael is spot on to include the scientific piece with this. It gives me a lot to work with.”
“That’s what I figured. I mean it’ll really help you take it from the level
The Promise
is at now—and that’s not a bad level to be—but differentiating the two titles can’t hurt sales. Readers who haven’t gotten the first book because they were skeptics might now buy both.”
“Right, and when we launch the campaign, we can appeal to them by going after the market using language they’ll resonate with. Saying something like ‘if you needed proof, we’ve got it’. Of course that will depend on what Michael brings to the table research-wise but he seems to be on his game.”
“He does. I called Edward and he’s thrilled. I think he’s already planning to be on the cover of
Publisher’s Weekly
as Publishing Person of the Year.”
“You really think he’ll get it?”
“If we pull this off, he will. Two of the biggest books the industry has seen in a long time under one publishing house, not to mention all the other books he’s worked with. I’d say it’s a given.”
“Would you ever want that, Mac?”
Mac smiled at her, “What? Recognition? No. I don’t care about that. I just want my books to sell and my authors to do well. I don’t need any door prizes.”
The conversation eased along and Kate nearly forgot her unease or, for that matter, the last time she and Mac had been alone together.
After her second glass of wine Kate began to feel delightfully lightheaded and relaxed. The crab had been superb as Mac has promised and the evening was fun and productive. After the waitress cleared their plates, Mac suggested a walk. It was a warm night for fall, a perfect night to be outside.
Mac led Kate outside, the harvest moon was yellow full, and bright, illuminating everything it touched. They walked across the street to a sidewalk that wound around the harbor. It was filled with couples holding hands, walking slowly and some just sitting on the benches gazing at the moon.
“So, are you feeling a little less spooked?” Mac finally asked.
Kate was startled, “What do you mean?”
“You were spooked by Singer earlier, I know you were. Tell me what’s up.”
Kate wrestled with her words. From the minute she stepped off the elevator she’d had this uneasy feeling about Singer. Something that didn’t sit quite right. The elaborate offices and endless staff. The ultra modern, sanitized feel of the room lacking in warmth and personality. And Singer’s demeanor, while friendly, bore an edge of something Kate couldn’t quite put her finger on. All she knew was that when Singer shook her hand, it made her want to shower. Kate stopped walking and gazed out onto the water. She leaned on the railing, eyeing the boats bobbing in front of her. Mac stopped too, watching her for a moment then leaning in next to her.
“Kate,” he said softly, “you can tell me. Trust me, I won’t judge you.” He was close to her, so close she could smell the scent of soap on his skin and his breath in her hair.
“There’s something not right.” She said finally, in a voice so low he could barely hear her.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t put my finger on it, Mac, but there’s something not right with this guy. It’s almost creepy.”
Mac chuckled and quickly apologized, “Katie, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh but listen, they’re new age people, they all seem creepy to me.”
“I don’t mean that, Mac.” Kate continued, determined now to get her point across, “I mean, didn’t you think it was odd that for one of the leading new age people there wasn’t a single new age-y object in that entire office? Not even a freaking poster that said ‘think and make it happen’—there was nothing, it was sterile. Not to mention expensive. I mean you said he runs a charity, too right? Have you ever seen how ninety percent of charities are run? On shoe strings and more often than not, out of someone’s apartment.”
Mac leaned into her further, he could tell she was seriously concerned, “Kate, listen, yes, I did notice but frankly, these top new age people are all like that. Most of them don’t even drink their own Kool Aid. You know the old saying we teach what we most need to learn, most of these so called gurus never get their own stuff, they just have the gift for writing it or really talented co-authors. His charity is just a side project, I think; most of his money comes from his motivational speaking.”
“No, Mac, I get that. I mean I know these people are just facades for the most part, but it was something else. Something almost sinister.”
“You mean Singer?” Mac frowned, “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t trust him, Mac. I’m saying you and I need to watch him like a hawk or this whole thing could blow up in our face. I’m saying that there might be more to Singer than what meets the eye. And what about that agent, Jade Lee? She makes the least sense of all. So, ok, what if he is sleeping with her? She’s not a negotiator, you can plainly see that.” Kate knew she was overstepping. It was the wine and the moon and this handsome man standing so close to her and the fact that despite Grace’s warnings, she trusted him.
Mac put his hand on her back, the touch of him felt almost electric. She had always thought that the “electric” remark in romance novels was just a creative use of words but now she knew it was true. It was possible to feel the electricity of someone’s hand and she felt it when Mac touched her.
“Kate, this is your first big book. I know you’re nervous but trust me, if you think something is up with this guy, I’ll watch him closely. I promise you I won’t let anything happen to this campaign and I certainly won’t let him fuck this up for either of us.”
“Thanks, Mac. I appreciate it, but it’s more than my being nervous, which I admit I am. This is bigger. I’m sorry; I don’t mean to keep going on about this. I just don’t want anything to go wrong. What if he’s planned to turn this manuscript over to another publisher at the last minute, or worse, what if he pulls out of this altogether?”
“We’ll sue him.”
“And in the meantime MD will have a hole in their Fall list the size of the Grand Canyon and I doubt we’ll ever recover from it.”
“Kate,” Mac turned to her, his face inches from her own, “do you trust me?”
Kate nodded.
“Then you’ve got to trust me on this. I’m not trying to dismiss your fears, but I don’t want you to get distracted by them. This is a big deal for your career and you’ve got to stay focused on that. Let me worry about whether Singer is going to fuck this up. Ok?”
“Ok,” she whispered.
Mac wanted to kiss her, right there under the moon with the water lapping at the shore. He wanted to lean in and take her in his arms but he didn’t. He fought it although every single cell in his body wanted to grab her and press himself into her.
Nothing good would come of it; that much he knew. But it had never stopped him before. He needed to be careful with Kate. She wasn’t like the others, she was onto him and that alone was more unnerving than he cared to admit. Yet in an odd, twist of fate, it was also a refreshing challenge.
