by Harper Logan
“It’s fine.”
“Maybe I should have worn something else,” she said, lifting the edge of her peacock green scarf, a rare excursion away from lavender.
“It’s fine too. Come on, everyone’s dying to see you.” But there was no life in his voice. When her fingers returned to his arm, it was like a skeleton trying to pull him down into the grave.
Applause exploded from the crowd as she walked down the aisle. She stopped at several rows, to touch hands, say a few words. People took pictures, shouted for her attention. It was crazy. They treated her like a movie star.
He retreated to the back of the room as she took the podium. She gave the microphone a tap and smiled at the sound echoing from the speakers. “So glad to see you all,” she said, her voice practically purring at all the admiration. “I promised myself I wouldn’t keep you waiting as long as Dona Quintana’s husband did!”
The crowd erupted into laughter. As she slid into her introduction, Cam’s attention wandered. He was going to have to make a decision soon. Right now, Madeleine was on top of the world. This afternoon had brought news of a movie deal, and the adulation from her fans was gratifying, and of course her bloody victory over Serge had her flying high… but Cam knew Madeleine, and none of that would last. She’d soon be in the dumps again, demanding pastries and cigarettes and total obedience. The higher she flew, the more paranoid she became about losing it all. How could he possibly stay with her through that?
The strange thing was, he felt like he could probably survive working for her for years to come. He could turn his mind off, dull his soul, and sink into all of her needs and fears, trying to take care of each one as it flared. Wasn’t that what he was good at, being the helpful little drone?
God, he hated that word. Suddenly he looked up. Madeleine was pointing at him, smiling, and people were turning around to look at him. What was she saying?
“…without his support. Cameron is the most organized person you have ever met. He even arranges his paper clips by size.” Laughter from the crowd. “If it weren’t for him, though, there wouldn’t even be a Dona Quintana to read about, so I want to give him a little credit tonight. Cam, here’s to you. I hope you stay with me forever and ever!”
Everyone began to applaud, and Cam lifted his hand in thanks. It was so uncomfortable. But what could he say? Hadn’t he been humiliated enough? He played along, smiling graciously, but inside he was screaming.
“Tonight I’m going to read a selection from chapter 39 of my novel,” she continued. “In it, a young woman has begun to beseech her grandmother for the answers to life that her mother simply will not give. But there is a problem: her grandmother died many years ago. She pleads with the heavens to allow her grandmother’s spirit to speak to her. And so we begin—”
“Oh, that’s awful!” said a voice. A familiar one.
Cam looked around. Madeleine had stopped in shock. She stared at Cam, raising her eyebrows, signaling him to find out what the interruption was about.
“Grandmother, save me from this tedious novel!” said the voice, and now it was clearer. Serge emerged from the back of the store. His hair shone under the lights. He was wearing his beat-up jeans, a plain black T-shirt, and a soft blazer Cam loved so much.
“Really?” said Madeleine, when she saw him. “Is there store security here?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not here for you,” said Serge. “You’re welcome to your life, your fame, and your terrible writing.”
“Wicked creature!” said Madeleine. But she quickly calmed herself, running her fingers over her hair as though to hold herself in place.
“Yes. Yes, I am that,” he said. His hands slid into his jacket pockets. He joined her at the podium. The manager shot Cam a look, and Cam shook his head, holding up his hand to signal: Don’t do anything just yet.
Serge looked over the crowd. “I know Rosebridge, and I know that some of you are fans of Madeleine…but a lot of you just came to see if there would be a scene. Well, congratulations. I’m causing one.”
“Don’t you have a book to write?” Madeleine asked him. “Oh, no, wait, I forgot: You don’t.”
“You ought not waste that quick wit on me. Save it for the page. But again, I’m not here for you.”
“Come to salvage your reputation with the public?”
Why was he here? Hadn’t he caused enough damage in everyone’s lives? Cam hated him so much. But he couldn’t deny taking a certain pleasure in watching him slice away at Madeleine’s ego.
Serge thought for a moment and said, “I’m sure all of you here know what happened at Madeline’s party. It’s not often a person gets outed as gay and an utter failure, all on the same night. You’d probably think that was enough humiliation for a while, but honestly, there was more to come after that.” He stepped toward the crowd. “I did a really foolish thing then. My pride was hurt so much, I lashed out. I denied…” He paused. He brought his hand up to his eyes, and rubbed them. Cam stared intently at him. What was he going to say? It felt like Cam couldn’t breathe, waiting.
“I denied being in a relationship with someone. Oh, that sounds fake, doesn’t it? Artificial. Here: I denied loving someone. I let my pride, my fear of being outed, and my desperation to be approved by you people get in between me and the man I love. That man,” he said, and pointed at Cam.
Cam was just standing there with his mouth open, his heart pounding in his throat, when everyone turned around again to see him.
“Let me tell you a story,” Serge said.
“Oh, please, go right ahead,” said Madeleine, rolling her eyes. “We weren’t doing anything important.”
“Thanks Madeleine. I appreciate your honesty. Cam, I am really sorry.” He was looking straight at Cam!
“I…I…”
“Where did I get the idea that anyone was allowed to judge me for who I love? How could I let something so stupid come between us, Cam?”
“You said such awful things,” said Cam. He thought he was being quiet, but his voice carried. Everyone heard the humiliation in his voice.
“I did. And I am sorry. And that’s why I’m here in front of all my peers, some former fans, my biggest competitor, to tell you: I am sorry, and I love you, and even though I can’t possibly ask for you back…man, I wish I had you back.”
“You do?” What was this feeling inside Cam? The warmth, the tingling. But he couldn’t get swept away by it. He couldn’t. “You hurt me so badly. The things you said, how can I know you didn’t mean them? How can I know it won’t all happen again?”
“Dude, I’m confessing my love in front of a hundred people.” Serge looked around the room. “Everybody here promise to hold me accountable?”
Laughter and applause from the room.
“See? If you can’t trust the readers of Rosebridge, who can you trust?”
Madeleine spoke. “This is all very…dramatic, Mr. Faletti. But can I remind you, you are speaking on my time? The people have not come out to see you spinning your lies in front of my assistant. They’ve come to hear me reading from my book. A book, I may add, that actually exists, unlike yours.”
“Yes, yes, fine. Did everybody hear that?” he said to the crowd. “It’s true. I’ve been promising a sequel to Pistols in Pisa, and that book is completely unwritten.” He scratched his chin. “Of course, even without a single word on paper, it’s still got to be a less excruciating literary experience than that doorstop you wrote.”
“Don’t you start with me, Sergio Faletti!”
“I’m not even here for you! I’m here for Cam. Cam, what do you say? Can we try again? Please?”
“He will not!” said Madeleine. She walked down the aisle and took Cam’s hand. “At first I thought you were trying to steal my assistant to get at me. Such petty revenge, a way to cover your own failures. Do you know how sick I was, when I found out you were sleeping with him? He’s never going with you, you fraud. He’s going to stay with me forever.”
The cr
owd looked from Cam to Serge, then back.
Cam cleared his throat. “Madeleine, I quit.”
“What?” she roared. Her fingers squeezed his bicep, like she was trying to jab her nails into him.
“Serge was right during the party. I’m letting myself be turned into a machine whenever I’m around you.”
“I gave you everything! I hired you right out of college! Do you understand the opportunity I laid out for you? There were so many—”
“No, I get that, I do,” he said. “And I appreciate it. But Madeleine, you’re just a lot of work. Your tantrums, your moods. And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t let my life be swallowed up by yours. If I do that, some day there will be nothing left.”
Serge’s dark eyebrows rose high in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Oh, so you think you can just walk out on me?” she screeched at Cam. “You think after all the chances I have given you, all the money, all the time—”
“You’re not good for me, Madeleine. And honestly, I don’t think I’m good for you either. You need someone who will shut you down when you get too crazy. Not somebody who is busy trying to make the world bend to your demands.”
“You’re leaving me for this hack? This fraud?”
Cam looked over at Serge. “You’re sure things will be different?”
“I’m still in shock over what you said to Madeleine. Sounds like things are going to be seriously different.”
“I can’t believe this,” she said. She snatched her papers off the podium. “This is just sickening, watching you throw your life away,” she said to Cam. “Why don’t you two get out, then, so I can do my reading.”
But people had already begun rustling in their seats. A few headed towards the door.
“What’s happening?” she shouted. “Why are you leaving?”
“How can someone who writes so convincingly of love, be so hateful?” said a woman from the crowd, who rose to leave.
“Yeah, why can’t you be nice to people?” asked a man further back, who was also leaving.
“Stay! Come back!” shouted Madeleine. “Listen, I will begin reading: I implore you, Grandmother, by the power of this old blanket you wove with your wise bony fingers, I implore you to descend forth—”
“God, it really is awful,” Serge whispered to Cam.
“Stop leaving! Sit down! I demand you sit down right now!” Madeleine screamed, pounding her fist against the podium. “Do you not know true art when you see it? This is the greatest novel of our generation!”
The bookstore staff quickly surrounded her. There were muttered arguments with the owner. She threw a punch, but two security guards helped her find the exit. The crowd went wild when they saw it, jeering at her as she was led to the doors, then they all rose from their seats and followed, to see what she might do next out there on the sidewalk.
28
Cam
The bookstore was quiet and still after the ruckus. Everyone had left, chattering about the craziness they’d seen tonight. Soon no one was left but employees folding up chairs, and Serge, sitting on the table next to copies of Pistols in Pisa, and Cam, standing very close to him, his hands shoved into his cardigan pockets.
“I’m so sorry I brought all this down on you,” Cam said to him.
“It’s okay.” Serge was unusually quiet. His fingers touched the buttons on Cam’s cardigan.
“It’s really not. I mean, what if she just ruined your career?” Even with all that had happened, even knowing he could have Serge back, the guilt felt like a lead weight in Cam’s stomach.
Serge shook his head. “How could she? I’m still writing the book. She can’t stop me. I can stop me, but she can’t.”
“No, I know that. But your reputation.”
“Well…no one in town will think of me as a ladies’ man anymore, that’s for sure.”
“But that’s your brand, really. And I wrecked it.”
“Would you stop?” Serge pulled him close, but Cam couldn’t look him in the eye. “I love you. And that’s more important than anything. I want this to work between us… but it can’t work, if I’m so busy thinking about how the public views me that I forget about how you view me. If all I care about is what gossipers are saying, how am I any better than Madeleine?”
“So I didn’t wreck you too badly?”
“I think you gave the audience quite a show, that’s for sure.”
Cam laughed. “They were probably expecting a wedding or something.”
“Once Madeleine showed up, they probably expected an assassination! This town certainly does love its literary melodramas!”
His lips brushed against Serge’s thick hair, feeling the softness of it. “Of course, now we really need you to succeed, because I’m out of a job!”
Serge slid off the table and grabbed his jacket. “Hey, that’s right. Madeleine really isn’t going to take you back now. But… what, you’re expecting me to finance you?”
“Don’t you want to be my sugar daddy?”
“That’s so much responsibility!” They left the bookstore laughing. The night air was crisp, and the leaves were just beginning to make their way down onto the streets and sidewalks. “Hopefully you know I’m joking. I do want you to come live with me if you’re comfortable doing that. Don’t worry about money. We’ll figure something out. Maybe you can work at the bookstore!”
Cam’s brow furrowed. “I’ve been thinking about the future. A lot.”
“With that worried look on your face the whole time?”
“Here’s the thing: All I ever wanted to do was work for Madeleine. You know that. But why? Was I just in love with the idea of her? The idea that there was this sensitive, caring soul out there, someone so wise she could guide me through all the dark times in my life. Better yet, in love with the idea of glamorous parties and rubbing elbows with the great minds of our society?”
“Hopefully you know better than that now.”
“I do. And… oh, this hurts to say. But I think I’ve been lying to myself. Serge, I think I want to write. I love books. I cherish them, and the world of publishing is so interesting, but I think, deep down, I’ve been kidding myself, thinking I could be satisfied by supporting someone else while they write, instead of writing myself. Madeleine was just so all-consuming, there was no room for me, my thoughts, my dreams.”
“You want to write?” Serge blinked at this news. “You never once mentioned it.”
“I watch Madeleine, and she’s doing something she’s so passionate about. Say what you will about her, but she loves what she does. And it’s a job for her. She’s happy to come in every day, sit down, and bang out the words. She’s not mooning around waiting for inspiration. It’s a lot less romantic all around than I would’ve thought.”
“On the upside, you can do it in your pajamas. But I hear what you’re saying. And that’s cool too. Come live with me. Take some time to figure out what you want to do. Do some writing.”
“And that’s the thing. I do want to write. But there’s… there’s one more thing I want to do. I realized it a while ago, I just need your permission.” He leaned a little against Serge.
“My permission? What am I, your boss?”
“Do you want to be?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Look, I want to write, but I still have all these skills that want to be put to good use. I have a lot of experience helping bestselling novelists… or, at least, novelist singular.”
“You want to work for me?”
“I could take care of all the distracting stuff, all the stuff that you hate that was pulling you away from your writing! The fan mail, scheduling the interviews, the phone calls…if you can just finish this book, you’re going to hit it big, seriously big, and I want to be there to help you.”
“Cam, you literally just said you want to write. And now you’re saying you’re going to set that aside to help me? No. I don’t want to be a parasite on you.”
> “No, it’s not giving up my dream at all. Without the drama of Madeleine around, I can finally have time to do both things I love. Because I’m not deluding myself about my idol anymore. I’ve lied to myself about so many things, Serge. It has wrecked my life. If I’m going to pick up the pieces, I have to be honest with myself.”
“That’s such a crazy idea, being honest with yourself! Like…should I start admitting that I am attracted to guys?”
“You can admit you’re attracted to me, first. You know, baby steps.”
Serge pulled Cam close, and kissed him. His lips were so warm in this cool night air. Cam felt himself melting against that broad chest, felt his body responding. But it wasn’t the same desperate urgency as before. It was something different. Something healthy, and so right that it almost made him want to cry, right there on the street. Serge’s hands stroked his face as they kissed, and then Cam really did feel tears starting to fall.
When their lips finally parted, Serge said, “Fine, you win. I am attracted to guy. Man. Just one. You.”
“Isn’t honesty nice?”
“Oh, I can get way more honest than that. Let’s be real here: are you going to get crazy working for me? Are you going to be a drone like you were for Madeleine, so driven and anxious to impress that you lose your soul?”
“No. No, I really don’t think I will. I understand myself a lot better now. Okay. Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get a little crazy. But you’ll be there to reel me in, right?”
“If you promise to listen, I promise to tell you if you’re digging yourself in too deep. And I promise to listen too. Because if you could slip back into being a drone, I could slip back into being an arrogant ass, and I don’t want that.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know.”
“I know you will.”
29
Cam
Some days you can tell it’s going to be a good day before things even start. When Cam slid into the old armchair and opened his laptop, he grinned, excited about the day. He’d gotten up way too late; Serge had let him sleep in, but now all his tasks had piled up. Wonderful tasks! He pulled up all the fan email for Serge, and began writing responses. The words seemed to be alive inside him, eager to rush out onto the page in a way they’d never been when he’d worked for Madeleine. He’d barely gotten his hands on the keyboard before words began pouring out, thanking the fans for their support, answering their burning questions about sequels, and gently turning aside the many offers of marriage. He began to enter that almost dream-like state of creative trance, where time begins to blur.
