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Authors: Christina George

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BOOK: The Publicist
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“Fine,” Melanie agreed, and stomped inside like a scolded child but somehow Kate didn’t believe her and by the time they were ushered into the green room, Kate noticed Melanie swaggering a bit and realized she’d probably popped her pain pill with the flask of whatever booze she was carrying in her purse. Kate started to sweat; if Melanie screwed up this interview, Kate would have a hard time getting anyone else booked on this show if she couldn’t keep her clients in line. The problem was, these women weren’t her clients, Phil was. By default she ended up babysitting the entire group and Bernie was, of course, nowhere to be found.

“What’s up with Melanie?” Robert, the handsome CNN producer who Kate met for an occasional drink asked her after watching Melanie giggle her way through most of the interview.

“Nothing, Robert, I swear.”

Robert put his hand on the small of her back, it was no secret he wanted more from Kate than an occasional drink but Robert wasn’t her type. A bit too New York for her tastes, a bit too worried about making an impression and less worried about being real. Kate wanted real, she hungered for it. Robert was handsome and sweet, but far from real.

“Don’t kid me, Kate, we both know Mel’s on something, now tell me what it is so I know what I’m dealing with.”

“Pain pills.” Kate said, leaving out the fifth of vodka Kate was certain Melanie had drank with it.

“Fucking great. Ok, let me alert the host so he doesn’t spend too much time with her.”

Robert was smart, and that was one of the reasons he’d been with CNN for over fifteen years, he was one of the best in the business and why he insisted on working at a celebrity-driven show like this one was beyond Kate, but again, Robert was all about making an impression and he believed celebrities were the biggest impression makers of them all.

Kate shook her head as she watched Melanie hang onto her chair to keep herself from swaying. It just cemented her decision further not to date Robert. Anyone who thought celebrities were impression makers was not someone she could spend time with. And after watching this train wreck over the last week, Kate was tempted to swear off all celebrities. Forever.

.

Chapter Thirteen

“What the hell do you mean there were only twenty books sent for this event? We have almost two hundred people lined up outside!” Kate could hardly breathe. Somewhere, someone had screwed up the book order and instead of ordering two hundred books, they’d ordered twenty.

Carol, the store manager, looked back through her paperwork, “We tried calling the editor a few times to confirm that this was the correct number, a Bernard someone…” the manager fumbled with her notes, “No one ever got back to us, so we assumed this was the right number of books.”

Kate felt the room spinning; twenty books would send Phil into a rage, not to mention what the hanger-on would say.

“I have to get more books,” Kate insisted.

“Kate, I’m sorry but we can’t, there are no books in the warehouse and we didn’t order extra copies, as I said….”

Kate stopped listening and quickly pulled out her phone to call Bernie.

She got his voice mail.

She tried him at home. Nothing.

Carol fumbled with the paper in her hand. Kate’s panic was palatable. “Listen, Kate, I’m going to go and make sure they’re ok and set up out there. Let me know what you figure out. I’ll have our staff call some of the other stores and see if we can get some copies on consignment.”

Carol closed the door behind her, leaving Kate in the stuffy room by herself to figure this out. She tried calling Lulu to see if she was at the office. Then Kate remembered the email that they’d floated around saying MD was closed that Friday to accommodate a last minute heating and air conditioning fix the company had to perform when all the systems blew out the day before. Edward had encouraged everyone to work a half-day and then head home for an early weekend. The repair process was noisy and messy and much of the staff took him up on his offer. Lulu’s phone went to voice mail; she tried her cell, same thing. Kate started to panic. It would take her almost an hour to get from where she was to the office by cab to see if Bernie had any copies stashed in his office, which editors often did. She desperately needed to get her hands on some books and if the bookstore couldn’t get any, she’d either have to take the cab ride or face the music with Phil and Myrna.

Carol pushed the door open and peered inside, shaking her head. Nothing. No one else had books. They were thirty minutes from the start of the event and the store had twenty copies of the book. That would get them through the first five minutes of the signing and then Phil would spend the next three hours of this event fuming. The women had their DVDs to sign, naturally someone at the studio knew better than to under order on those.

“Kate, I need to tell you something,” Carol began, “after doing some more research, it looks as though Bernie stopped the order.”

Kate was dumbfounded. Why on earth would Bernie do that? Did he intentionally want to set this up for failure? Was he trying to undermine her?

“Thanks, Carol. I have a few more calls to make, let me see if I can fix this.” Kate tried to remain calm but her hands were shaking. If Edward found out about this, she would lose
The Continued Promise
, Kate was certain of it. Bernie might have changed the order but at the end of the day, the buck would stop with her. Kate punched a number in on her phone. Mac answered.

“Yeah?”

“Mac, it’s Kate…”

Mac could hear the frazzle in Kate’s voice, “Katie, what’s going on?”

Kate explained, as best she could, what she surmised had happened up to this point, “My only hope, Mac, is that there are copies in Bernie’s office. Is your assistant around, can she go check on this for me?”

“Kate, I’ll do it.”

“Mac, no, you’re not even in the city and the signing starts in thirty minutes.”

“I’m at my apartment this weekend. I can be at the office in five and to you in less than thirty if I can find the books.” Mac kept an apartment in the city that he often stayed at for several weeks at a time. With the boys gone to college there was no reason for him to go home anyway.

“Are you sure, Mac?”

“Positive. I’ll call you when I know more.”

Kate dropped the phone in her purse and leaned against the wall.

Outside she could hear Myrna’s screeching voice and reached over to lock the office door. She needed a few more minutes by herself to figure out what she’d do if Mac couldn’t find any books.

Less than twenty minutes later, Mac showed up, books in hand. He’d found about a hundred copies stuffed in Bernie’s office, grabbed them and then tipped the cabbie twenty dollars to break all the traffic laws and get Kate the books she needed. When Kate saw Mac’s smiling face, she nearly leapt into his arms. Mac didn’t say a word but handed the box to one of the store clerks. The cabbie was waiting outside, trunk open with more copies. Probably not the number of copies Phil was hoping for, but considerably better than the twenty books they’d started with.

“Mac, I can’t thank you enough…..you know if this hadn’t gone well….” Mac rested a hand on her arm, “It was my pleasure, Kate, I’m just glad I could help.”

“You did more than help me and you know that.”

Mac only smiled, “Call me when this is over and let me know how it went.”

Then, without another word, he turned to leave. Kate noticed he was wearing jeans and a casual white shirt. She’d never seen this look on him but she liked it and she assumed this was who Mac really was, just a regular guy who’d landed this incredible job but was still as real as they come. She watched Mac get back into the cab, lost in thought, when Myrna’s vile mouth brought her back to reality.

When the last of the line of autograph-hungry fans passed through the line, Kate breathed a sigh of relief. The limo was already out front to take the group to the airport and she’d be done with the lot of them. Kate could hardly wait. She was exhausted but keyed up from having to keep track of Myrna’s rampant demands on the bookstore and Melanie’s constant “water” drinking. Kate knew whatever was in the plastic bottle wasn’t water but since no cameras were rolling, she could care less. As long as Melanie kept smiling and signing and kept her clothes on, Kate was thrilled.

Kate watched as the group piled into the limo. Phil mentioned in passing that he’d be watching the
Times
on Sunday for his book, Kate just smiled and shook his hand. The vile mouthed hanger-on stepped into the limo, but not before shouting a slew of obscenities at the driver for parking too far from the curb. When the car finally glided into traffic, Kate stepped away from the street, thankful that the whole mess was finally over and cursing Bernie for his apparent intentional undermining of the whole event. From out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a black sedan that came to a smooth stop in front of her. The backdoor opened and out stepped Mac, still in his jeans and smiling from ear to ear. “You did it, kid,” he laughed, “and best of all, you survived.”

“Yes, I did, but barely. I think I’ll need hours of therapy to get over this, or a stiff drink.”

“Well, I can’t help you with the therapy, although I’ve been told I’m a good listener, but I can definitely help you with the drink.” He winked.

Kate tipped her head to one side, suddenly wondering what was going on, “Mac, what are you doing here?”

“I decided you needed to get picked up in style so I hired a sedan,” he paused, “then I decided you didn’t need to be alone so I came with it.”

Kate laughed, how on earth did Mac know this was just what she needed? Without another thought she said, “Let me grab my purse then I’ll take you up on it.”

Kate leaned into the leather seat of the car, feeling relaxed for the first time in over a week. This had been a hard campaign, mostly because she spent so much of her time trying to convince the media they needed to care about it. Mac sat near her, so close she could smell the slightest hint of his aftershave. Once the car was in motion, Mac pulled a small bottle of champagne out of a cooler the driver had placed on the front seat.

“Mac, you shouldn’t have!” Kate smiled, “but I’m glad you did. I really do need a drink.”

“Then drink you will, my dear Katie,” Mac filled her glass, then his, and toasted her success.

“Here’s to a great event, despite Bernie’s attempts to try and screw it up.”

Kate laughed as she sipped her champagne. She could feel herself relaxing in his presence and the champagne was helping to take the edge off.

“You really saved me today, Mac. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Mac looked out the window, seemingly embarrassed by her praise, “I didn’t do anything really, just got the books. But I’m glad I could help. And you know what else? You need to relax more, Katie, you’re way too wound up all the time.”

“Oh, MacDermott, you’re one to talk.”

“Yeah, but I know when to turn it off, you don’t. You’re always doing something for work. I bet you even work on Sundays too.”

Kate tipped her glass to her lips; the champagne was having an effect on her. She threw Mac her best smile, “I do work a lot, but I have to. I’m still climbing the corporate ladder; you’re already there, Mac.”

BOOK: The Publicist
3.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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