Climax: The Publicist, Book Three Read online

  Climax: The Publicist, Book 3

  Copyright © 2015 Christina George

  Copyright and Legal Notice: This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state, and local laws, and all rights are reserved, including resale rights.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the author.

  First book edition © 2015

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted) is merely coincidental. Copyright © 2015 Christina George. All rights reserved worldwide.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As this final chapter on Kate’s life comes to a close I find myself overwhelmed and grateful for all the love and support that’s been afforded me. I am truly grateful to the readers who have turned into beloved fans. Thank you for letting me know what you liked, what you didn’t like and for believing in these books as much as I do. Thank you for writing me and almost begging for book three to be done (this really kept me going) but most of all, for spending your money to buy my books and then for taking your time to read them. I am truly honored.

  To Lauren for still speaking to me after I sent you this long, long book to edit. Your patience was so appreciated as was your skillful eye. I could not do this without you. Yes, you are the boss of me.

  Amy, who had a hand in many elements of this book from idea brainstorming to just venting about the characters. Suffice it to say, she became the voice in my head, or Kate’s head. I am not sure this book would be as fun as it is without our Skype rants.

  Melissa, who was always meant to write fiction, your talent amazes me and it means the world to me to have a fiction buddy who can help me escape reality.

  And to George, who was right all along.

  CHAPTER 1

  “Damn it!” Kate said louder than she’d planned. The guy on the treadmill next to her looked over. “Work,” she shrugged as she smiled at him. He turned back to his TV; he seemed annoyed. Kate could have sworn she saw some slight eye rolling. He wasn’t the only one. Couldn’t a girl get one hour alone in the gym without someone deciding they needed her right this minute? She wasn’t even a doctor like her brother; she was just a publicist. Well, now a publisher, and with that new title came a huge amount of added responsibility.

  Her phone continued to buzz like it was alerting her to a four-alarm fire. She slowed down the treadmill and grabbed it. There were twenty text messages, all from her newly-hired publicist Annabelle. Mac kept insisting she not spread herself too thin. To his credit, Kate knew she couldn’t do it all on her own, so she finally gave in and started interviewing candidates. Annabelle had been at Random House for five years and had (according to her résumé) taken on some of her own titles independently, which meant that she managed the publicity and marketing cycle on a book from start to finish, handling things like advanced review copies, pre-launch media, and anything related to the launch and ongoing promotion of the book. Kate knew all too well how much work that involved. However, things were a bit different at Lavigne House, Kate had warned her. This wasn’t just an office job. A good publicist went on-site; a good publicist wasn’t overloaded with seventy-five new titles a season like at other publishing houses. Kate would need more help or fewer titles. For the time being, Kate decided on the latter, but she knew that wouldn’t always be the case. Often publishers made all of their money on one blockbuster. For Lavigne House that was Allan’s last book: After the Fall, which had done exceedingly well—even beyond their expectations. The movie had earned two Oscars. The paperback had hit the bestseller list and was still in the top ten a year after its initial release. But that success would not last much longer. Lavigne House needed another bestseller, and soon.

  Kate cycled through the text messages from Annabelle. It started with a cheery, “I’ve arrived, everything is great!” It was Annabelle’s first in-person event for Lavigne House and she had assured Kate that she would be fine on her own. Still, Kate decided she would go down to the store after the signing started. You know, just to be sure.

  The event was going to be big, or so Kate hoped. They had signed a book by Laurie and Adele, two gals who had been friends forever and then decided to turn their baking skills into profits. They became the biggest cookie company in the U.S., and even throughout having newborns and raising kids, then one going through divorce and the other grieving the death of a parent, they kept baking and inventing new recipes. Today was their signing at the Fifth Avenue Barnes & Noble. It was a big deal, and Kate had put a lot of faith in Annabelle. Perhaps too much, she thought, as she clicked through her messages.

  Laurie and Adele’s cookies were synonymous with some of the best baked goods in the country. But their baking talents didn’t stop with cookies. Last year they were asked to bake a wedding cake for the President’s daughter’s nuptials, and then they were invited to attend the wedding. Shortly after that, Lavigne House signed them for their memoir, Sugar and Spice, which is what they jokingly called each other. The pre-orders for the book had been brisk, which was good. Not as brisk as After the Fall, but still good. The media had also been prominent with stints on Good Morning America (leading a fun baking class with the hosts), The View (cookies for the entire audience), and many, many radio shows.

  As she cycled through the messages, they became more and more distressed. When she got to the last one, she jumped off the treadmill and raced to the showers. It read: Authors screaming. Please help.

  CHAPTER 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 race home to change into more appropriate new-author-book-signing attire. Annabelle sounded desperate, and Kate sent her a text, promising 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.

  Kate nodded to the desk clerk, a perky blond with perky tits who probably had only to smile at a 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 perky blond with perky tits 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. It promised to be another unusually hot day in the city—especially for mid-May. A string of three of them in a row had New Yorkers feeling testy. With temps in the high nineties, the A/C in most places, including the Y, was strained to the limits. The subways would be worse. Heat got trapped down there and mixed with the stale stench of body odor and urine. It was 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, sir,” 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. S
he was certain that her frantic mind was playing games with her.

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

  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.

  CHAPTER 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. 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 gin joints, in all the towns, 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. “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.” 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? She 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 SoCal 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. For what? A sign from God?

  Kate nodded, for someone who worked with words every day, she was surely having 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, although 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.” 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 there 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 Fourteenth Street and away from her. It was a relief that someone clearly more mature than she 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. 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? 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.

  CHAPTER 4

  By the time Kate arrived at the Barnes & Noble, her hair was dry and her composure somewhat back on track. The event, however, was not. A line of eager fans snaked around the building. Even in this sweltering heat, the crowds came out to see Laurie and Adele, their favorite pastry chefs.

  As Kate walked in the store, she could hear the authors’ screaming coming from the back of the store.

  “I will not sign my book at the same table as you!”
A feminine voice bounced off the store walls.

  As Kate got closer, she spotted them through the open green room door.

  “Your book? Without me you’d still be making Tollhouse crap. Maybe we should just tell everyone that you don’t really know how to cook!” It was Adele who was screaming, her curly blonde hair flying around her head as if it, too, were enraged.

  Kate was certain that if she could hear them, fans who were slowly starting to gather inside could, too. The media was also starting to set up their cameras and mics. A few brought lighting, which was being carefully placed around the signing tables. Just what she needed, a series of catfight pictures making the paper. Kate raced to the back of the store where she found a very pale Annabelle trying to soothe the battling co-authors.

  “K-Kate, I’m so sorry. I’m so glad you’re here.” Annabelle was visibly shaking, “I tried to keep them in the back until we could figure this out.”

  Laurie and Adele were still screaming at each other, oblivious to anything but their own tedious argument.

  Suddenly, Laurie grabbed a handful of Adele’s long, black hair and started pulling. “I’m tired of finding your hair in our cupcakes!” she screamed.

  “We need to get them out of earshot first.” Kate stepped between the duo. “Ladies, let’s go now. The media is setting up and they’re going to hear you. This will only hurt books sales.” Kate knew that uttering the magic words “book sales” would get their attention.

  Laurie stopped mid-hair pull. “Fine,” she said, letting her grip fall. “But I refuse to share a table with this bitch!”

  “You’re the bitch, you heartless diva!” Adele screamed and reached out a well-manicured hand to grab another clump of hair. What was with these two and hair pulling?