Loving Vivienne: The Publicist, Book Six Read online

  LOVING VIVIENNE

  By Christina George

  All rights reserved. Use of any part of this publication, whether reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior consent of the publisher, is an infringement of copyright law and is forbidden.

  ASIN: B01N69MTRA

  Interior and Cover Design: Fusion Creative Works, fusioncw.com

  First Printing

  Printed in the United States of America

  I never thought I would be here again, writing another chapter in The Publicist saga. Honestly the series was never intended to be a series, just one book. If it hadn’t been for the readers who kept asking for more, I’m not sure I would have continued this journey. So thank you, dear readers, who have become part of this Publicist family. I’m grateful to each and every one of you.

  To George, you were the first person to believe in me.

  I miss you every day.

  1

  The New York morning was crisp and slightly cool. It was a perfect spring day, and the trees were in full bloom. Vivienne strolled down a bustling street, so glad to be back in New York. After five months on the road working on the film adaptation of her bestselling book, The Summer We Died, it was good to be home.

  Spying the Starbucks mermaid that marked her destination, she pushed open the door and was immediately surrounded by rich fragrance of freshly ground coffee. Joining the long line of customers, she noted that most of the tables were occupied by young men and women in suits, either bent over their laptops or chatting with acquaintances before rushing off to work.

  She gazed around, enjoying the bustle and the summer scents that wafted in every time the door opened to admit still more customers.

  Then the hint of an expensive masculine cologne intruded, a tantalizing combination of spices, sandalwood and musk. Peeking out of the corner of her eye, she saw he was tall, very tall, and what she could see of his face was chiseled, strong, and quite handsome. Based on the evidence, she suspected the rest of him was drop dead gorgeous.

  How long had it been since she’d been on a date? It seemed like forever. Though one of the cameramen had tried his best to get her to go out with him, Vivienne was all business on the set. Tempting as it had been…

  “Oh, excuse me,” the man in question bumped her, and Vivienne smiled and turned.

  The words “no problem” died on her lips when she saw it was none other than MacDermott Ellis. The last person on the planet she’d ever want to see again. Vivienne tried to muster a pleasant expression while gritting her teeth and decided she probably didn’t need coffee after all. For a moment she considered leaving, but she could tell Mac recognized her from the slight smile creasing his cheeks. Of course he knew who she was; he’d worked on her book back when he and Kate were together.

  A sour taste crept into her mouth.

  “Vivienne, good to see you. It’s been a long time,” he said quietly.

  Not long enough, she thought, shoving a curl behind her ear. In fact, the last time she’d seen Mac was at her book launch party, when he and her brother Nick got into a fistfight, mostly over Kate, but also because they really disliked each other. Or at least they did then. Now, according to her brother, it was all water under the bridge.

  But not for Vivienne.

  When she didn’t respond, Mac said, “I hear the movie is coming along nicely.”

  She was at the counter now, with an impatient barista waiting to take her order.

  “What can I get you?” the barista snapped.

  She almost said whatever is the fastest, but she wasn’t about to allow The Devil Incarnate to ruin her first morning back, so she ordered her usual. As she did, she realized two things: first, her brother was happy with Kate, and Mac had lost that battle; and second, the industry was small, and Mac Ellis was now the head of Morris and Dean Publishing, which had recently returned to its former glory with an enormous bestseller.

  She needed to at least be cordial. She was a professional; she could do that.

  Maybe.

  She added a bagel to her order. When she turned to Mac, she noticed a ring on his left hand. She almost burst out laughing, but instead she said, “Yes, the movie is doing well. It should be released on schedule.”

  Mac moved in to order while she walked over to wait for her coffee, relieved the short encounter was over. But no such luck. In a few short moments he was beside her again. He adjusted his tie, and she couldn’t help but notice how many women were watching him avidly. Mac turned heads wherever he went.

  “When is your next book due?” he asked, glancing around the tables. Vivienne was getting impatient with social niceties, but she knew she needed to keep a straight face, though part of her itched to call him a jackass, smack his too-handsome face, and dash out of the store.

  “It’s due in three months, so I’m taking a bit of a vacation with some friends.” She didn’t say where; he didn’t need to know.

  Mac turned to her, looking in her eyes intently: “Vivienne, you’re a very talented young woman, and I wish you well, but don’t you think it’s time to get over your flaming redheaded vendetta against me?”

  The smitten barista called Mac’s drink out of order and handed it to him personally. He accepted it. Of course his would be ready first.

  She opened her mouth to protest his accusation, but what could she say, really? No Mac, you’re mistaken. Let’s grab lunch or drinks.

  Not freaking likely.

  Instead she remained quiet while he threw her one of his award-winning smiles, turned, and left.

  2

  “I can’t believe you ran into that jerk, Vivy!” Evangeline threw open her front door.

  After running into Mac, Vivienne decided to visit her two best friends, Evangeline and Samantha—Evie and Sam—who had been roommates since college. She’d texted her news to Evie on the way.

  Vivienne sighed and collapsed onto on the couch, “Sometimes New York is such a small town.”

  Her friend flopped down next to her, “Right. Well, he’s a dick, so be glad you don’t have to have anything to do with him ever again.” Then she sat up straight and beamed at Vivienne. “So, girlfriend, enough of that. Let’s talk about the trip next week!”

  As if on cue, Sam flung open the door and breezed into their apartment, saying, “I found the hottest bikini—ever! I’m going to melt the beaches of Costa Rica! Oh, hi, Vivy. I didn’t know you were here.”

  “She came for therapy,” Evie smiled sweetly and nodded to Viv. “She just ran into Mac.”

  Sam set her small shopping bag on the table and spun around. “Is he as hot as ever?” she grinned. Though she loved her, Viv found Sam’s lack of an edit button could be a little annoying.

  “Sadly, yes,” she sighed, “but he’s still an egotistical devil.”

  Sam nodded, “Yes, the Devil indeed. So, who wants to see my bikini?” Without waiting for an answer, she pulled a tiny swatch of fabric out of the bag.

  Viv blinked. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  Sam stood up a little straighter, “It’s here and here.”

  She held up a pair of itty bitty triangles held together by strings that were supposed to cover her breasts, and the other. Well, it looked like an eye patch. Viv highly doubted it would cover the relevant bit.

  “You’re welcome to scorch the sand, Sam. I’ll be wearing a one-piece,” said Evie. “I’m a little too hippy for that kind of a thing.”

  Evie was always self-conscious about her weight, thanks to an overbearing and always-dieting mother who’d kept her on an ever-c
hanging series of diets from the time she was nine. Once Evie moved out of her mother’s house, she ate whatever she wanted, much to her mother’s chagrin. But, contrary to her self-image, Evie was adorable, and round in all the right places. Viv knew from experience that most men agreed with her.

  “I’m wearing a one-piece, too,” Viv said. “Besides, I’d rather leave a little something to the imagination.”

  She winked at Sam, who replied with her signature, dazzling, she-could-have-been-a-model smile. Sam had opted for a law degree instead of modeling and was currently interning at one of New York’s top firms. Viv was certain that once Sam set foot in a courtroom, there wouldn’t be a jury on earth who could resist voting in her favor.

  “Imagination is overrated,” Sam replied sweetly, putting the two tiny scraps of overpriced fabric back in the bag. “Now, let’s talk about the trip. Did you get the tickets yet, my insanely generous friend?” Sam plopped down on the other side of Vivienne.

  “I will get them today,” she promised.

  “I can’t believe you’re paying for this entire trip. You should at least let us pay for something. The food? The rooms?” Evie offered, but Viv shook her head.

  “Not a chance. This one’s on me. I couldn’t have made it through the angst and stress and sleepless nights involved in getting this book out without the two of you.” She pulled them both in for a hug.

  Then she sat back and said, “Now, I need to get going. Got some errands to run before dinner with the bro and Kate tonight.”

  “How’s the swoony brother of yours?” Sam asked sweetly.

  “Still happily married, Samantha.” Viv gave her an elbow nudge. She was certain if she had known Sam when her brother was still single, her friend would have snatched him up, or at least given it her best. And her best was formidable, indeed.

  3

  When Vivienne got home, she tossed her keys and her purse down and headed to her office. Something jangled through her: Nerves. Her next book. Looming over her, mocking her and judging her. She changed into a pair of yoga pants and T-shirt, her usual writing attire, even if she wasn’t inspired to write a word.

  But first the tickets. Even if it did feel a little bit like procrastination.

  She plunked herself down in front of the computer and bought three first-class round-trip tickets to Costa Rica.

  Her finger hesitated over the “complete purchase” button, not because she didn’t want to go, but because a nagging reminder thumped her in the head: She had yet to tell her brother, Nick, about the trip. Not that she needed to run every little detail of her life by him, but she knew she should at least tell him about this. She adored her somewhat overprotective brother but also knew he’d probably prefer to have her vacation someplace closer, like the Hamptons. Of course she was also pretty sure he’d find something wrong with that, too.

  After the ticket purchase, she opened up the Word doc she started while she was on the road. Her next book.

  The cursor blinked at her relentlessly.

  What if this new book flops? Her stomach knotted. Everyone would shake their heads and say, Poor, foolish girl. I always knew she would turn out to be a one-trick pony.

  Maybe the success of her first book was a fluke. After her parents’ untimely death at the hands of a drunk driver, she’d poured her heart out into a journal and then turned her journal into something more. And thus The Summer We Died was born, and the rest—the fame, the money, the movie—seemed more like a high-speed virtual reality game than real life.

  Her uncle, Allan Lavigne, had been an amazing writer but only penned one book. Well, two, if you count the one he willed to Kate, who was now Vivienne’s sister-in-law. But he’d been afraid, too. “Your uncle worried that his first book was his best book, and as much as I nudged him to keep writing, he insisted he had nothing left to give,” Kate had told her, “but it turned out he was wrong.”

  Maybe she was doomed to recreate her uncle’s story.

  She hadn’t known Uncle Allan as well as Nick did, but she remembered Nick’s response when she asked him why he never wrote again.

  He’d smiled sadly and said, “He believed lightning didn’t strike twice, my dear Vivy.” Too bad he didn’t live to see he proved himself wrong.

  She sat back from her computer, the half-written page staring back at her, cursor still flashing mockingly. After what felt like a prodigious effort, she had written a paltry two hundred words. Only seventy to ninety thousand more to go.

  Vivienne fetched a deep, long sigh up from her toes. She was running on empty. Not one ounce of inspiration. It had all been used up on her first book. Maybe once her royalties dried up she could get a job waiting tables. She actually didn’t have the skills to do much else.

  Maybe she should call her friend/publisher/sister-in-law Kate and confess: I have no talent, Kate, I’m sorry. We got lucky for book one. Can we forget the contract?

  But she’d never do that to Kate, and she wasn’t about to play the family card. She was determined to live up to her commitments. Gazing out the window, she let her mind wander over the high points of the past year. What a thrill fest of a ride! While it was happening, she’d turned off her what-if button and fears about ending up like Uncle Allan and just went for it. Knew nothing about the movie business? So what? They wanted her on set, and she’d figure it out. Had never been interviewed in her life? What the hell? She’d relax and be herself and trust Kate’s advice to guide her.

  Soon though, it would end. All good things did. Things always had a way of crashing down around her, just like when her parents died too soon.

  This would, too.

  4

  Viv arrived determined to leave her uncertainty and plummeting self-confidence at the door so neither Nick nor Kate would realize how worried she was. As she lifted a hand to knock on the door, she promised herself to enjoy the evening with her family and take plenty of time to enjoy Gregory, her eighteen-month-old nephew and the current love of her life.

  “Come in,” Kate called from somewhere in the apartment, and Vivienne pushed the door open. Kate knew who it was, of course, since the doorman buzzed her up and had no doubt announced her arrival.

  Kate was on the floor playing with her son. She smiled over her shoulder at Viv and stood, propping Gregory on her hip so she could give her a one-armed hug.

  “Vivy! It’s so good to see you.”

  Gregory giggled and patted his auntie’s face, planting an enthusiastic, slobbery toddler kiss on her cheek and reminding Viv of how much she’d missed the smell of him, all sweetness and light.

  “It’s so good to be home, Kate,” Viv replied, her throat tight and painful with unexpected emotion. She had grown to love Kate like a sister, but it was nearly impossible not to love Kate. Gregory started squirming, calling her by his toddler name for her—Vava—his arms outstretched. Kate handed her son over and bent to kiss the back of his head.

  “We all missed you, Vivy, but Gregory missed you the most.” Kate patted her and stepped back. Vivienne curled her arms around the little boy and kissed him on his chubby cheek. Then she buried her face in his hair.

  “I missed this, the smell of him,” she paused and looked down at him again. “He’s grown so much.”

  Kate grinned. “He has, and I swear every day he looks more and more like his father.”

  Viv looked around, “Where is that brother of mine?”

  “He’ll be here in a few minutes. He—” The front door opened. Gregory’s face lit up and his head spun in that direction.

  Nick’s smile lit up his face, “My two favorite women,” he said as he set down his backpack and walked over to Kate, kissing her on the cheek. Then he turned to his sister.

  “I’ve missed you, Viv.”

  Viv stood on her tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, and then Nick wrapped her and Gregory in his arms.

  “Oh, Nick, I’ve missed you, too,” she said on a sigh. She was an inch from breaking down, and she had no idea why.
Maybe it was simple relief, a sense of homecoming. Nick raised her after their parents died, and he was her anchor. There wasn’t anything in the world she wouldn’t do for him.

  “It’s good to have you home,” he said into her hair. She was still holding Gregory, who was reaching his tiny hands out to his father. Nick stepped back, cupped his face in one hand and gave him a noisy kiss on the cheek. The toddler laughed while Nick stroked his hair then looked down at his sister.

  “I brought a bottle of champagne to celebrate.” He held up the bottle and then turned to Kate. “Shall we toast my sister’s first movie and her homecoming?”

  “I’ll get the glasses,” Kate nodded and hurried to the kitchen.

  “I read the interview about you in People,” Nick beamed, and Kate quickly added, “He bought twenty-five copies.”

  The interview, she thought. She’d been so busy she hadn’t even bothered to check the newsstand for a magazine.

  “I’d love to see one,” she smiled and then added with a shrug, “I’ve been too busy to look.”

  “You bet,” Nick winked, “I think I have one I can spare.”

  Vivienne sat down on the couch, and Nick went to his backpack and pulled out a champagne-bottle-shaped bag, taking the bubbly to the kitchen. “It’s been chilling all afternoon.” He pulled Kate close. “I’ve missed you, too,” he said as he bent closer for a kiss.

  Though Viv tried to give them their privacy, she found their love for each other mesmerizing. Watching them, she couldn’t help but feel something…happiness for them? Yes, there was that, but also something else. A longing for something, or someone. Seeing them so perfectly suited for each other only magnified the hole in her own life. And she felt a bit at odds with her own desires. She wanted to be happy, yet deep in her heart she knew happiness would always elude her.