Climax: The Publicist, Book Three

by Christina George

  Maeve took the fliers and stacked them thoughtfully back in the box. Vivienne was still holding Allan’s. “You know, Riley, I have watched writers come and go for many, many years and I know one thing: Talent always wins out over a name. Sure, you can ride a name for a while, but book critics are pretty unforgiving. The majority of them are pretty truthful.”

  “I don’t think I follow.”

  “What I mean is that even if you did write under the Lavigne name, the book world would let you slide by on that for much less time than you think. In fact, it’ll probably be a better test of the book and your success if you can actually live up to it.”

  Vivienne licked her lips. Live up to it. That was maybe what she feared the most.

  Maeve reached across the counter and touched her hand.

  “Look, you don’t know me. I’m just the owner of this dusty old bookstore, but I know books. When I read yours, it reminded me so much of Allan’s work. You have his talent, Child, as if he were somehow writing through you. But there’s a uniqueness to it—a voice that is distinctly yours. It’s like you took the best of his talent and blended it with your own, which is exceptional. You really are gifted, Riley.”

  She smiled; there was something wildly comforting about Maeve, like spending time with a grandmother who would shield you from every bad thing the world could throw at you.

  Finally, she said, “Vivienne, my name is Vivienne Lavigne.”

  “What a beautiful name, Vivienne. Well, you don’t have to worry at all; your secret is safe with me.” Maeve’s face creased into a smile.

  My secret, Vivienne thought. My secret identify. At that moment, Vivienne knew what she needed to do.

  CHAPTER 70

  “I think we’re leaving here soon,” Stephanie said into her phone. “I wish we didn’t have to. I just wonder what will happen when we’re back in California. You know my apartment, his home.”

  “Well, you’ll move in there, right?” Tracey Bennett was Stephanie’s friend—or BFF, as she liked to say. Tracey came from money and knew how to spend it, often taking Stephanie with her on shopping sprees or to be the first in line for the Nordstrom’s Half-Yearly sale. Both of her parents were high-powered Los Angeles attorneys and worked a lot, leaving Tracey and her endless credit card to their own devices.

  “Nick and I haven’t talked about it.” Stephanie was sitting on the couch in Nick’s living room. Nick was out at his stores, and the twit was God knows were. She finally had a quiet afternoon to herself.

  “Then you need to press him. Trust me; you don’t want him deciding this. Men can’t decide anything.”

  “Nick isn’t like that. He’ll ask me.” Stephanie lay down on the sofa. “I know he will.”

  “He won’t. Men don’t think like that. You have to tell them what to think.”

  Stephanie traced the edge of the couch with her hand. “I’ll ask him. I swear.”

  “Has he told you he loves you?”

  “No, it’s too early.”

  “You’ve been dating him for months, haven’t you? He needs to say it.”

  “He will.” Suddenly, Stephanie felt like she was doing this whole relationship thing with Nick all wrong. She was there, they were living together, and he hadn’t told her loved her? That was a little backwards, she thought.

  “Listen, Stephie, let me tell you what you need to do. This guy is a catch, trust me. So you need to make sure he stays caught, if you follow my drift.”

  Stephanie did, but she also knew that Nick was not even close to wanting to be married.

  Except maybe to Kate. The woman made her stomach knot up.

  Tracey kept talking, pushing her to force Nick to commit to her before he drifted off to someone else.

  “Steph, do you want Nick to go back to Kate?”

  “God, no!” Stephanie said, louder than she’d intended.

  “Then let me tell you what you need to do.”

  Stephanie listened intently to what Tracey said.

  When Tracey was finished, Stephanie gasped and said, “I can’t possibly, Trace. I could never do that.”

  But in fact, both of them knew she could, and the more dire the circumstances, the more likely that it became.

  CHAPTER 71

  Today was a great day. Today Mac was coming home and this whole thing was going to be over. Kate could hardly wait. She’d made it through the seven days, just barely. Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Vivienne.

  Dropping by. Just need 10 min.

  See you soon! was Kate’s response.

  When Vivienne arrived at Kate’s office, she breezed past the receptionist with a big smile and headed into the offices.

  “Hey Viv!” Lulu waved. She’d been working closely with Vivienne, too, and the two had formed a nice relationship.

  “I need to see Kate. Is she in her office?”

  Lulu nodded, “I think she’s on the phone, but she should be done in a minute.”

  Vivienne walked towards Kate’s office. When Kate spotted her, she smiled and signaled for her to come inside and take a seat.

  “Good news, Vivienne,” she said when the ended the call. “That was the New York Times. They’ve committed to doing a review of the book, and the editor loves it—I mean loves it!”

  Vivienne thought her heart was going to stop. “The Times?” she asked.

  Kate nodded, “Yes and there is more on the way.”

  “I-I can’t thank you enough, Kate, for what you’re doing for the book.”

  Kate pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s all part of the job,” she smiled. “Now what can I do for you?”

  Vivienne took a deep breath. After all of the back and forth she’d had with Kate on using her pen name, she was certain this wasn’t going to be easy.

  “I met with Maeve,” she said.

  “Oh, that’s great. How is she? I adore Maeve; I can’t wait for you to do your signing there.”

  Vivienne rubbed her hands together nervously. “I-I can’t either. She is a very nice lady. She showed me all of the fliers from past events she’s had there. I didn’t know that Uncle Allan’s ties were so strong to that bookstore.”

  Kate nodded, “Yes, he loved that store. He went there a lot, and Maeve always has his books in stock. In fact, when After the Fall came out, she was the first bookseller in New York to get a review copy of it. We even included her in our laydown, which was a huge boon to her.”

  Vivienne licked her lips. “Eh, and speaking of my book…”

  Kate’s heart skipped slightly. “Is everything okay?”

  Vivienne gave a quick nod. “Yes, yes, it’s fine. I just, well, I talked to Maeve about Uncle Allan and him working there, and it got me thinking. I’ve been silly, really, I mean not wanting to use the Lavigne name. So I thought that maybe I could use it, you know, on the book.”

  Kate shook her head. “Viv, it’s too late for the book. I mean, as far as the jacket goes, we’re committed to it. It’s gone out to reviewers that way, and it’s being printed as we speak.”

  Vivienne looked deflated, “Oh.”

  Kate was silent for moment. “Vivienne, I’m sorry. I mean, we talked about using the Lavigne name. What changed?”

  The girl shrugged. “I just, I don’t know. I mean, now that I’m in this process I can see why it was sort of silly. I wanted to be independent, and Maeve got me thinking that I won’t be judged on my name—or I might be, but my work will always be judged on its own merit.”

  “That is true,” Kate said thoughtfully. “So there’s little we can do about the book itself, but maybe there’s something we can do otherwise.”

  Vivienne frowned, “What do you mean?”

  Kate’s mind lit up. “I have a great idea,” she said, her voice tinged with excitement. “We’re going to leak it to the press what your real last name is, just ahead of the book event we’re doing at Maeve’s shop.”

  “I don’t think I follow.”

  “Well, you have two book s
ignings. Because of the politics of publishing, we have to do the first event at the Fifth Avenue Barnes & Noble. They have a huge order in, so we want to take care that they’re handled right. Your signing at Maeve’s is a few days later. What if we leak it to the media just in time for that event?” As Kate talked she grew more and more excited. “This will draw amazing crowds. Allan’s fans—certainly, the media, and all to Maeve’s bookstore.”

  Vivienne smiled, “I like it, and it’ll help out her store in the process.”

  Kate nodded, “Exactly. And since this is the direction we’re going, we should have you do an event at the library, in the Lavigne Creativity and Reading Center.”

  “I’d love to,” Vivienne could feel herself glowing. This felt right to honor her uncle and her own heritage.

  Kate’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Mac saying he just landed.

  Home from Paris.

  Kate felt the weight of this trip fall off of her. It was over.

  “Is everything okay?” Vivienne asked.

  Kate looked up and smiled. “Yes, everything is going to be just great.”

  CHAPTER 72

  Kate was on the subway headed home. Mac was probably in the car by now; they might even get there at the same time. Kate could hardly wait. Although part of her was still a tad angry with him. He did this trip despite her protests, despite her asking him not to. Now this was something they’d need to get over. Because while having him back was great, it wasn’t going to fix everything. But it was a start.

  She’d held down the fort while he was gone. It was harder for Mac to stay up on email while he was in Paris living it up with his family. Something twisted inside her and she quickly pushed it aside.

  Kate found a seat on the train, reached in her bag, and pulled out her iPad. Flipping it open to a magazine, she tried to keep her mind busy with something other than Mac’s trip to Paris as the train sped along. She spotted an article and started reading.

  When massive earthquakes hit, some people say that they felt the shifting or the pre-quake movements as far out as months in advance. Experts are working on technology that measure this movement and predict when an earthquake could hit. The idea is based on measuring tiny, almost microscopic shifts on the earth’s surface that precede a massive quake. The more vibrations, the heavier the shaking will be when the quake does finally hit.

  Some people can feel this shifting, but it’s so subtle and so minor that you really have to be paying attention to notice it. A tiny movement here, a slight shift there. If you aren’t aware enough and aren’t tuning in to this vibration or shift, the quake will catch you off guard and the results can often be catastrophic. In a sense, life changes are very much like that. We see minor shifts—slight movements from here to there. Most of the time, these go unnoticed. When the big one does hit, people often swear they didn’t see it coming. But the truth is, in almost 99% of the cases, the shifts were there. We just weren’t paying attention.

  Kate looked up from the tablet. Something about this resonated with her. Life often worked that way, didn’t it? People say, “I never saw it coming.” When in fact, things had been shifting for months.

  The train came to a stop at her station. She stuffed the iPad back in briefcase, got off the train, and headed for home to face whatever lay ahead for her and Mac now that he was back.

  CHAPTER 73

  Mac couldn’t stand how he felt or the task that stood before him. Paris had been wonderful and heartbreaking and then wonderful again. He felt like he’d been on a rollercoaster for the last few days. In fact, he was pretty certain he hadn’t slept in two days.

  Not since that night.

  He and Carolyn were walking along the Seine. They’d taken a tour of the facility earlier that day, and Carolyn had been pensive, even reflective. The night was clear and warm and the river glistened from the reflection of the moon that threw sparkles of light down onto the water. Music wafted up from somewhere. A saxophonist played “Le Vie En Rose.” Mac knew it was for the tourists, but hearing the song added a certain charm to the night. They continued to walk, although Carolyn was mostly silent. She responded briefly to things Mac would say.

  “Nice night, isn’t it?” would get him a, “Yes.” And then she’d revert back to her silent walk.

  Finally, Mac decided to speak up. He knew her long enough to know something was wrong. “Want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

  Carolyn continued to walk in silence and then said in almost a whisper, “Today scared me, Mac.”

  He turned to her, “How so?”

  “These people. This is their life. Many of them are so sick. I-I just can’t imagine being that sick, although at some point I guess I was. I can’t imagine having this disease be my life, which I guess it is.”

  As they walked, the music grew louder and Mac could see in the distance the saxophonist playing under a bridge.

  “Carolyn, it’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”

  She smiled, “Mac, you’ve been amazing through this, and to come here with us was just, well, more than I could have ever asked for. But at some point, I have to face this alone.”

  Mac stopped and turned to her, taking her hands. “You’ll never be alone; you’ll always have me and our boys.”

  She nodded, “I know, and I appreciate that more than I can say. I guess I just…I am tired of being sick and feeling like less than a woman.”

  He gripped her hands and something inside him quivered. “You will never be less than a woman. You’re the same, drop-dead gorgeous blond I fell in love with all those years ago.” His voice was soft and deep, and for a moment the memory of when they first met tiptoed through his mind. She was bright and young and fresh-faced, and he’d fallen head over heels for her the minute she’d smiled at him. He was a goner before he even knew her name.

  A small giggle erupted from Carolyn’s lips and she reached up to touch his face.

  “Mac, you are still as charming as you ever were. And that smile. That smile can stop traffic.” her voice trailed off and for the tiniest of seconds, something sparked between them.

  Carolyn pulled her hands away and started walking again. Mac had felt it, too—a small shock of electricity when she’d touched him.

  Sparks were dangerous; he knew that all too well.

  They walked in silence as the sound of the sax player grew louder. He had slipped into another song. When he spotted them he smiled.

  “Welcome to Paris,” he said in a heavy French accent. “This is the city for lovers, and tonight I will play a special song for you.”

  The first few notes told Mac it was “La Vie En Rose” again.

  Ah, tourists, he thought.

  They both stopped to listen to the musician, who nailed every note of the song with sheer perfection. It reminded Mac of the random musicians he’d hear in the subway tunnels in New York. Some were brilliantly talented. He often wondered why they’d wound up playing to people who rarely paid attention to them and how come they hadn’t ended up in a symphony hall playing to hundreds of guests who had plunked down a few hundred dollars just for the privilege.

  He looked at Carolyn, who was swaying softly to the music, the faint scent of her perfume wafting towards him, and he felt drawn to her in a way that surprised him. Every memory they made together rushed back to the front of his mind. Things he hadn’t thought of in years. Their first child, bringing him home wrapped in a blanket. Their first Christmas together with that tiny little tree in their smallish apartment, a fourth floor walkup. Carolyn had been three months pregnant with their first child when they moved to Connecticut, and he bought her the house of her dreams. As if moved by some greater, uncontrollable instinct, he reached for her hand, bent down, and said, “Dance with me.”

  The words, once out of his mouth, surprised them both. Carolyn looked up at him and smiled. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Mac.”

  “None of this is a good idea, Carolyn. My c
oming to Paris with you, being here tonight, alone.” And they were most certainly alone; their sons had decided to take the train out to see some of the ruins outside the city and were staying there overnight.

  Without waiting for her response, Mac pulled her into his arms and started to move to the sweet beat of the music, dancing by the Seine with the woman he’d spent his life deceiving. It seemed altogether too surreal. Carolyn let him pull her along; her movements were soft and sensual. As the song ended, Mac stopped and slowly turned his face so he could see her. Her head was still covered in a scarf, her hair not having grown back enough yet to go without one. The scarf was tied at the nape of her neck and the long ends of it hung forward across her shoulder. The fabric was a soft pink that illuminated her face. For a moment, Mac couldn’t let go of her eyes. He relinquished what little control he had left, bent his head, and brushed her lips with his own. Carolyn didn’t move, and he could feel her body stiffen with surprise. Then he cupped her face, and this time he did more than just briefly touch her lips. He kissed her hard and long until his body was so drawn with desire, he almost couldn’t think.

  Suddenly he pulled back, “God, Carolyn. I’m so sorry. I can’t do this. I love Kate. I could never do this to her.”

  The sedan pulled up to his building, the home he shared with Kate. His mouth was dry and his chest felt tight and heavy. He handed the driver his credit card and waited for his receipt. It seemed to take an eternity. He wanted to run out of the cab and race upstairs and confess his sins, but there was part of him that didn’t want to even face her. He knew how she’d react and he knew the pain that would follow.

  It was a pain he’d known all too well.

  It seemed to Mac that his entire life he’d been ridiculously compelled to hurt the people he loved the most.