“Mac, thanks for getting me the assistant. At first I found her annoying, but now she practically reads my mind. It’s really wonderful.”
Mac smiled, “You’re welcome, but it’s the least I could do given what I’m putting you through. You know you are always first with me, right? This stuff with Carolyn does not change that. Yes, it’s important to help her, but if this is just too hard on you I want you to tell me. Okay?”
Too hard? It had been too hard from day one, but she’d sucked it up and just tried to ride it out.
A wave of guilt washed over Kate like a tide, leaving a sticky residue in its wake. She’d been letting Nick get to her, or letting whatever leftover feelings she had for him magnify into something bigger than it should have been. She needed to avoid Nick in the future. He’d be leaving soon anyway, and then life would go back to the way it should be. Mac loved her and she loved Mac, and that was all she needed. He was all she needed. Soon they would get married and that would be that.
. . . .
Nick listened to Stephanie sleep beside him. They had a good time at dinner and showing her the city. Between his trips over the years to see his uncle and then during the time he’d been living there, he’d gotten to know the city well.
Stephanie had insisted on seeing the new stores, so Nick had taken her to two of them. She’d asked dozens of questions and had been genuinely happy for him.
When they returned home, she’d taken the lead and kissed him, and he had kissed her back. She was a good kisser and had a body most men would cross the ocean for.
Sex was different for men than it was for women. To men, sex was like a warm cookie from the oven. They rarely turned it down. A cookie was a cookie after all, wasn’t it? And Nick hadn’t had a warm cookie in a long time.
Could he love her? Nick wasn’t sure. They’d had a handful of dates, and he knew her, of course, from the stores. She was a tad spoiled, but her heart always seemed in the right place.
No, of course he didn’t love her.
Kate.
Her name floated through his mind looking for a place to land. There was no question that he still had feelings for Kate. And it wasn’t a good idea that he spend more time with her, or for that matter, see her again.
He touched Stephanie’s hair. She inched slightly closer to him. He felt her soft skin against his thigh and he felt arousal stir inside him. Suddenly, he was glad she was here, that she’d flown all of this way to see him. He needed the distraction, and he needed to be reminded that there were other things in life than his working and pining for a love that had long since died out. Kate was with Mac. She’d made her choice.
Now he needed to make his.
CHAPTER 49
Kate arrived a full ten minutes prior to her appointment time with Ruth Ann Wilson. She wasn’t sure why she’d gone back aside from Andrew’s pre-payment of her sessions, but something the wacky doctor said had rung true for her. Although, sadly, she wasn’t exactly sure what it was. Little pieces of what Ruth Ann had said—a fragment here, a small piece there—had settled into her mind and resonated with something that had been dormant there.
“Right this way.” Jenny, Ruth Ann’s ever-pleasant assistant, led her to the doctor’s office. Kate was thrilled that she hadn’t greeted her like she had last time. With a big, “Howdy y’all,” and, “Hi there,” like she was there for a hoedown instead of therapy. It had been folksy and terrifying at the same time.
Jenny opened the door and let Kate step past her. Ruth Ann stood to greet her wearing a pink polyester suit. Her closet must look like some malfunctioning polyester bomb went off.
The assistant closed softly closed the door.
“Kate, it’s great to see you.” Ruth Ann stuck out her hand. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back for more.” She winked.
Okay, this was a mistake.
“Have a seat,” Ruth Ann pointed to the button couch. For a moment before Ruth Ann’s door opened, Kate thought the whole décor had been something of a dream—the kind of dream you have after binge watching Mad Men on Netflix. But as it turns out, it had not been a dream at all. Kate sat down on the couch and the doctor said, “So, I Googled you.”
Christ.
Ruth Ann sat down her chair, notepad in hand, but this time it wasn’t blank. Kate noticed it was covered in writing. Great, she’d looked her up online and taken notes.
The creep factor in the room just went from five to one thousand.
“I like doing that, because I find that clients often don’t tell me the whole story. So, I look up what I can online. Facebook usually tells me a lot, but yours didn’t have a lot on it.” She took her reading glasses, which hung on a chain around her neck, and pushed them up on her nose before looking down at her notepad.
“Most of my patients love to overshare on Facebook. Dangerous stuff, that social media. I especially love this whole selfie craze, which is odd to say the least. I had a client who kept texting his girlfriend disturbing selfies and then wondered why she got a restraining order. Boundaries, people!” she admonished. “Anyway, you have quite a history, Kate Mitchell. I had no idea you were a celebrity.”
Kate felt her face burn. She was definitely going to kill Andrew. Maybe bake some poison in those damned scones he loved so much, or maybe just sprinkle it in his tea. It had to be something that would cause him to die a slow and painful death. She would stick around and watch.
“I’m not a celebrity,” she said trying to push down the anger in her voice.
Ruth Ann raised an eyebrow. “You seem upset. Are you mad that I Googled you? You know therapists do that, right? But most will never tell you they do. I feel you should know. Honesty, Kate, first and foremost—both with yourself and with others.”
Kate tried to shake the image of the polyester one hunched over a computer searching through all of the news pieces she’d been featured in after she’d taken on Allan’s book. Kate retraced in her mind what the doctor may have found online. Then she let out a tiny gasp when she realized what Ruth Ann had no doubt seen.
“I know about Edward,” the woman read her mind. “I’m sorry. I’m sure that was awful.”
No, no, no. She wasn’t there to talk about Edward. She’d worked through it. Edward was slime; he did this all the time. She wasn’t wasting one of her hours on Edward or discussing that night he nearly raped her had it not been for Mac to come in and save the day.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” Kate said firmly.
Ruth Ann smiled, “Of course, Dear. We can talk about it when you’re ready.”
That will be around the time that hell freezes over, Kate thought.
“But that Mac sure is a handsome devil. He must be nice to come home to. I can see why you fell for him.”
Kate sighed. This was going to be horrible. The annoying ball clock ticked away five minutes. Crap. Once again, time slowed to a crawl.
Ignoring Ruth Ann’s statement Kate said, “Mac did an amazing thing. He flew all the way from California to spend the weekend with me.”
Ruth Ann looked at her over her reading glasses. “Kate, finding a cure for cancer is an amazing thing. The fact that Mac flew home after spending weeks with his ex-wife is, frankly, the least he can do.”
Kate shuffled on the couch. Her gaze drifted outside again.
She hated this.
“I was really happy to see him,” she offered as perhaps a way to indicate why she found it amazing. Maybe not cancer-curing amazing, but still she’d been touched by Mac’s gesture. Well, touched and riddled with guilt.
“The sex is good. Isn’t it, Kate?” Ruth Ann spoke and smiled at the same time.
Gross. I am really not telling her about my sex life with Mac.
Kate didn’t respond.
Ruth Ann never broke a smile. “The sex is always good—that’s what keeps us coming back.”
“I love Mac.”
Ruth Ann nodded. “I gave you a task at the end of our last session; how did that go?�
�
Task? Oh, crap, the homework she’d completely forgotten about.
“I, eh, I, sorry. I got busy.” Kate felt a bit like a schoolgirl. She shuffled her feet. Ruth Ann looked at her over the top of her reading glasses. Was she judging her? If there was judging to be done, could someone please call the fashion police?
“Then we’ll work it out here. I see that Nick is opening up some of his stores here in New York. So you must see him more frequently, yes?”
How the hell could she know that? Oh, right. Thanks, Google.
“His sister is publishing with us, so yes, between her book and the stores, I have seen him a few times.”
“What’s that like?”
“It, it was nice. But I can’t see him again.”
“Why not?”
“Mac. You know, it’s not fair.”
“Is Mac jealous?” Ruth Ann’s tone changed. Her voice was almost disarming, despite that fact that Kate still hated sharing her deepest secrets with a stranger.
“No. Well, he wasn’t comfortable with it. I mean, what man would be? I was engaged to Nick. But I can’t see him, I mean, ever again. It’s for the best.” Kate felt a squeeze on her heart. She hadn’t made the firm commitment until now, but she had to. It just wasn’t right. Still, never see Nick again? The thought made her unexpectedly sad.
“Kate, what happened the last time you were with Nick?”
Kate sighed. She may as well tell the doctor what she wanted to know. Otherwise, she’d find some way to needle it out of her. These sessions were starting to feel like the emotional equivalent of water boarding.
She recounted the story of the library opening, Nick being there, his gratitude for what she did, and their dinner after.
“Spending time with him is nice. Isn’t it?”
Kate nodded. “He was my best friend.” Kate felt an overwhelming sense of grief shoulder its way in. Nick had been her best friend, her rock. She had gone months without seeing him after they’d broken up, but now that he was back and they were, well, almost friends again, it was nice.
Really nice.
“Was it too nice seeing him again and spending time with him?” Ruth Ann had this uncanny ability to read her mind.
Kate nodded. “It’s not fair to Mac or to our relationship. Nick and I have a strong connection—through his uncle,” she added quickly.
“So, the last time you were here, you refused to answer a question: Why did you did you leave Nick?”
The question took a moment to sink in. “Kate?” Ruth Ann asked again.
“Yes, I heard you, but I was just thinking.”
“You don’t know the immediate answer to that question?”
Kate wanted to scream; of course she knew the answer. “I left him because I didn’t feel I loved him enough.”
“That’s never a real reason. You know that, right? People who say that are just afraid of something. It’s a cop-out answer.”
Kate sighed realizing she should have left the minute she heard the words, “Googled you.”
“Kate, tell me what drew you to Mac initially,” the doctor asked, changing the direction of the conversation.
Kate felt almost relieved that Ruth Ann decided to leave the topic of Nick. She told the story of how she met Mac when they were both at Morris & Dean. She told her about Mac being the star editor there and how he helped her throughout her career. Kate talked about how she was initially drawn to Mac. I mean, what woman wasn’t? He had a fast smile and a disarming, devilish glint in his eyes that would often cause women to instantly drop their panties. Mac had been impossibly kind to her in a world of unappreciative authors and egos that were often wildly out of control.
“Mac is a fabulous guy,” Kate added unnecessarily.
Why was she so concerned about singing Mac’s praises? Kate wondered. It seemed oddly pandering.
Ruth Ann ignored her and moved on. “Kate, I want you to tell me about your authors and your work.”
“Ruth Ann,” Kate began, feeling anxious that they were now halfway through her second session with no real progress on the issues around Mac’s ex-wife. Mac was gone again, of course—back to California.
Kate took a deep breath before she continued. “I came here to focus on the issue around Mac and his sick wife, eh, ex-wife,” she quickly corrected herself. Damn it. “I just don’t see where talking about my authors is going to help that.”
Ruth Ann smiled and leaned forward. That leaning forward thing was starting to get on Kate’s nerves.
“Kate,” her voice was friendly but firm, “our problems are not always clear. Pain in our life means there is something wrong, but the pain is the result and often not the cause. When Andy came to me, his only objective was to get back his creative juices. He had stopped writing songs. Creativity, as it turned out, wasn’t his problem.”
Kate was silent. She felt a bit like a disciplined child.
Ruth Ann continued, “Kate, you are used to running the show for the most part. You aren’t used to stopping and listening to yourself. That’s what I’m trying to get you to do now. Listen to yourself, because whatever you need to do is buried deep inside you. The reason you didn’t marry Mac right away could very well be that you were just too busy to plan a wedding, or it could mean something entirely different. Whatever that is, don’t you want to know? I mean, has your life worked out well for you thus far? Don’t you wish you could have gotten here without all the drama and without breaking Nick’s heart?”
There it was again, her one fatal flaw. She’d broken the man’s heart. She was glad public hangings had been outlawed, or she was certain she would have been found dangling from a rope with a she-broke-Nick-Lavigne’s-heart sign taped to her chest.
“I think Nick is past it,” Kate said, her voice slightly brittle.
“I’m not sure either way, Kate, but whatever Nick feels doesn’t matter here. It’s what you feel, and that’s what I’m trying to get at. You run from author to author, trying to make them all feel loved and special. Who makes you feel loved and special?”
“Mac,” Kate said, almost defiantly.
“Well, he’s not doing a good job of that now. Is he? And if he makes you feel so special, and if the man is as wonderful as you say, then your biggest flaw is that you’re a fool for not dragging him into a wedding chapel the minute you moved back here from California.”
Kate was silent. She hated this. Not because Ruth Ann was hammering on her about Mac but because in her heart, Kate sensed that this quirky doctor had a point.
“Now,” Ruth Ann began, “tell me about your authors.”
Kate told her about some of her authors. She skirted some of the really crazy ones, the ones who bordered on being verbally abusive, and especially the gun-toting ones. Ruth Ann would have a field day with that. The doctor dug further until Kate started to share her more gruesome war stories.
Ruth Ann watched her silently. Finally, she said, “Kate, how does that make you feel?”
Kate blinked. Feel? She hadn’t really considered how she felt. Mostly pissed off, but she wasn’t sure if that’s what Ruth Ann was going for.
When Kate didn’t respond immediately, Ruth Ann said, “Any emotion at all, Kate?”
“Frustrated,” she said finally.
“How so?”
“Frustrated that they don’t get how hard I work or how much it takes to get noticed these days. And also, it pisses me off.”
Ruth Ann smiled, “Such progress, Kate. When was the last time you felt this way?”
Kate thought back to Estella, but only because she was most recent. There were a lot of them. Too many, in fact. The bad, upset, ego-maniac authors were more prevalent than the grateful ones, sadly.
“Last week,” Kate fumbled with the edging on the couch, “but it happens a lot.”
“How do you think you can change that, Kate?”
She shrugged and continued to roll the edging between her fingers. “There isn’t anything I can do; it’s
part of the job.”
Ruth Ann leaned forward again. Kate braced herself for more wisdom. “We teach people how to treat us, Kate.”
Kate looked at her. She had heard that before. It was the modern-day, psycho-babble mantra, but implementing it was another matter altogether.
“You know, I’m quirky and people think I’m odd, and perhaps a bit old and silly. I really don’t care. When you’re in here, you follow my lead. You are in my care, and that demands respect. Regardless of how crazy you think I may be, I always end up getting what I want. Don’t I?”
Ruth Ann’s Texas drawl was very serious and she hardly blinked when she spoke. Kate realized she was also right. She thought Ruth Ann was a quack, but here she was, pouring her heart out to someone who wore polyester like it was Armani and had trolled Google for background on her. She was both creepy and thorough.
“We’re at the end of our hour, Kate,” Ruth Ann said, “but I want you to do something for me.”
Great, more homework.
The doctor seemed to pause for effect.
“I want you to remember what I said: We teach people how to treat us. I want you to focus on that with your authors, okay?”
Kate nodded, although she wasn’t sure how she would pull that off. Egos were just part of the business. Much like dealing with celebrities, there was no getting around the all-mighty ego.
CHAPTER 50
The California sun splashed in through the window of Carolyn’s hospital room. David and Danny had taken their grandmother out, because sitting in a hospital room all day wasn’t good for anyone, especially if you are in your eighties. They all needed time away. Although things had gotten easier and Carolyn was responding to the treatment, it was still good to get a break. The constant company was also tiring to her, and Mac was well aware of that.
He sat by her bed while she slept with his laptop open, quietly reading a manuscript he thought he might want to acquire. Carolyn stirred and Mac looked up to see if she was awake. In the past week since he’d gotten back from his quick trip to New York, Carolyn’s health had improved considerably. She was able to get up, walk around, and even spend time in the beautiful hospital gardens. The doctor had said that another week would show them whether she’d be okay to travel back home. From there, they would continue her treatments in New York, and hopefully she’d return to California where they could operate on her in the fall.
Climax: The Publicist, Book Three Page 19
