Climax: The Publicist, Book Three

by Christina George

  CHAPTER 74

  Kate heard the key slip in the lock and the door open. She was standing in the living room with an open bottle of champagne to toast his homecoming, their wedding in two weeks, and (secretly) all of this being over.

  Mac walked inside set his suitcase down and just looked at her. Kate knew instantly that something was wrong. His face looked ashen and drawn.

  It was starting to unnerve her; he just stood there, staring.

  Kate walked over to him and tried to smile, but something about the air around Mac made her almost shiver. A shadow crossed his face and she stepped back for a moment.

  “Mac, is everything okay?”

  He looked at her for one long moment and then said, “I need to tell you something,” not quite looking her in the eye.

  A tremor of fear wriggled through her knees. Then something sparked on his face and she knew without even knowing. The guttural pain that tells you what you need to know without even hearing the words. The tremor turned into a spasm and a sob rose from her throat,

  “No,” she said. “No.” She started to back away, almost tripping on chair nestled up to their dining room table.

  “I need to tell you, Kate, please stop. Let’s sit down.”

  Desperation flooded her body as she kept backing away from him. Mac took several long strides and finally managed to grab her and stop her from moving away.

  “Kate, I love you. I need you to hear this. I need to tell you something.”

  For a moment, a thought skittered through her mind: If he didn’t say the words, it wouldn’t be true. They could pretend nothing happened in Paris, although now she was sure that it had. She tasted something salty on her lips and realized she was crying. Mac was forcing her to sit down.

  ”Kate, I need you to listen to me.”

  She looked at him, but her gaze caught on something behind him—a photograph of the two of them, smiling. She couldn’t recall where it was taken, but they were dressed up.

  Mac is selfish. It was Dr. Death’s voice in her head. Damn it, of all the times to hear that voice—when clearly her world was ending.

  Mac was holding her hand. She yanked it away. What was he saying? Something about Carolyn? She tried to focus in on him again, but her mind wanted to drift off.

  “Kate, Kate? Did you hear what I just said?” Mac was looking at her. His frown did not cease.

  She looked at him and shook her head.

  “I said that Carolyn and I slept together while we were in Paris.”

  CHAPTER 75

  Good things happen slowly and bad things happen fast.

  People often comment on the before and after of a tragedy. One minute the birds are singing and you’re doing something mindless like folding laundry or reading a book, and the next moment you’re staring at a heap of smoking rubble that used to be your life or the doctor is telling you that something odd showed up on a scan. There was no warning, no one to tap you on the shoulder and say, “Hey, you might want to get pay attention; your world is about to end.” There is just devastation, destruction, and the shock that reverberates through your body and leaves you feeling hallowed out.

  Winner take all.

  Sometimes there are a few mementos left—a picture or two, maybe a souvenir from a family vacation. Tiny pieces of a life lived, although often they are too painful to hold on to. Nothing will ever be that way again, because now life is divided into two parts: Before and after. And you try to move on from that one moment, that one second that changed everything, because in the end it really only amounts to a shutter shot gaze—one tiny movie frame of a life inserted in the mass of frames that had proceeded it and all that would presumably follow. Suddenly, this was what it came down to—a moment in time. A small glimpse into a future without Mac, without the life she’d envisioned, without the children they might have. Now there was nothing. Just a heap of smoking rubble.

  Kate stood up from the couch. She was shaking and she couldn’t feel her legs.

  “Wh-what did you say?” She had known it in her gut when she saw his face, but the words, once out of his mouth, seemed almost foreign to her.

  He does it with you; he’ll do it to you. She’d heard that somewhere. Now she couldn’t recall where.

  Mac stood up and jammed a hand through his hair.

  “Carolyn and I, we reconnected in Paris. Something happened—something that shouldn’t have happened—and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Kate just looked at him; he didn’t know what to do about it? Well she sure as hell didn’t, either.

  “I, I feel like…” Mac stumbled through the sentence, very un-Mac-like, “I feel horrible. On the one hand, I mean, I love you and I never, ever intended to hurt you. You have to believe that, Kate.”

  She steadied a stare at him. Her voice shook, “You slept with your ex-wife and you want me to know that you never intended to hurt me? That’s like seeing a cat in the road, hitting it with your car, and saying you didn’t mean to.”

  Mac walked over to her and she backed away. “Don’t you dare get close to me, Mac. You can say what you need to from over there.”

  “I was talking with her one minute, and then we were dancing.”

  Great, there was dancing. That certainly wasn’t a visual she needed. The image cut through her and split her heart in two. One hot, sharp slice.

  They had danced.

  Her throat filled with tears.

  When was the last time she and Mac had danced? She remembered the first time they danced at the Morris & Dean holiday party. He’d kissed her for the first time that night and then they’d slept together.

  Clearly nothing good ever came from dancing with Mac.

  Mac paced the floor. “The thing is, Kate, that I’m not sure I’m sorry it happened. I mean I’m sorry this hurts you, and the timing is hideous, but there is something between Carolyn and me. Or there was something and now it’s back. I need to figure out what it is before we can figure all of this of this out.”

  That stopped Kate in her tracks. Figure this out? Figure what out?

  “You bastard,” she hissed.

  “Kate, listen, I love you—”

  Kate raised a hand in the air. There was a line, and Mac had crossed it. Not only had he crossed it, he’d sprinted over it.

  Something inside Kate snapped and her mind became crystal clear.

  Once a cheater, always a cheater.

  “Don’t you ever say you love me again. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this. Now, I want you to pack your shit and get out.”

  Mac walked over to her. Kate backed further away. She realized that soon she’d be cornered in the kitchen. Suddenly, the idea of being cornered by Mac made her sick.

  “Kate, listen, we need to talk about this.”

  “Get out. You cheated on me. This is over. I never want to see your face again.” Kate felt a wave of anger rise in her like a tidal wave of fire.

  Mac’s hands flew to his waist. “Kate, our life—our work together—we are doing great things together.”

  “We did great things. It’s over. All of it. I’ll expect your resignation on my desk in the morning. And no, I won’t change my mind. I never want to see or hear from you again. We’ll figure out the details of your exit package in the next few days, but for now, I want you gone.”

  “Kate, I—”

  “Take what you need for a few days and send someone for the rest. I want your keys to the apartment and the office.”

  Mac almost staggered back. This wasn’t the Kate he was expecting to see. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but this certainly wasn’t it.

  “Kate, it’s not that simple. I still love you.”

  “And, sadly, I still love you, but I’m hoping that time and hatred will get me past it. What you did is unforgivable, and I don’t want to discuss it or rehash it or know any more detail than I already do. As it is, the image you and your ex dancing in Paris while I was here waiting for you to come home will
be burned in my mind for a long time. I gave you my life, Mac,” her words were choked by her sobs. Tears flooded her eyes. “I gave you my life and I gave up a life and I built a life and a business with you and I broke a man’s heart for you—a good man. A man who deserved much more than to be cast aside for a cheater.”

  “Nick.” The name coming from Mac’s lips sounded resentful and venomous.

  “This is not about Nick. This is about the fact that when push came to shove, you didn’t have it in you to make any kind of a sacrifice for me.”

  “You and Nick.” Mac’s eyes narrowed. “Is that why you’re so willing to end this? Because you plan to go running back to him?”

  Mac’s words hit Kate like a slap in the face. “Wait, what? This has nothing to do with Nick. This has to do with you not being able to keep your fucking pants zipped. This has to do with you building this relationship with me, and then throwing it and our future away without so much as a second thought. It’s always about you, Mac. Always. What Mac needs, what Mac wants. Now here is what I want: I want you the hell out of here!” Kate’s throat felt like it was closing from the unfiltered anger and intense grief that was flooding her body.

  Mac turned and faced the window. He leaned a hand against it and she could hear him sniff. Was he crying?

  “I’m such a fuckup, Kate.” Mac turned to her. He was indeed crying. She’d never seen Mac cry. It was unnerving. Crying Mac was not what she needed. She fought an impulse to put her arms around him and comfort him.

  Cheater. Remember, he’s a cheater.

  Dancing in Paris. The image snapped her back to reality. Mac looked at her and then sank into the couch and put his head in his hands.

  “God, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I mean, for the minute it took me to decide to sleep with her my mind shifted off, and I did this horrible thing to the one person I vowed never to hurt.”

  She couldn’t take this anymore. In about five seconds she knew that regardless of the pain, she would feel compelled to hold him or talk to him or let him finish whatever jacked up reasoning he had for doing what he did.

  “Mac, I need you to go. Right. Now. Please.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion.

  He stood up. His face was even more grey than when he’d come home.

  He looked at her and nodded. “I get it,” he said and walked towards the door, grabbed his luggage, and turned to her.

  “I will always love you, Kate. Always.” And then with a click of the door he was gone. Kate fell to her knees and cried into the carpet.

  CHAPTER 76

  Mac almost stumbled out of the apartment building. His legs were shaking and he was still fighting off his tears. He never cried. Ever. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Oh yeah, he’d just broken the heart of one of the most loving and forgiving women he’d ever known. Now she was gone. She would never forgive him. Ever. It was the finality of that that made him almost drop to his knees. What had he been thinking that night? As he walked into the evening air, he cursed his innate ability to ruin absolutely everything in his life.

  . . . .

  “Mac, you’re right. We shouldn’t.” Carolyn pulled away, and then Mac, still holding her hand, pulled her back and wrapped her in his arms.

  “I know,” he breathed into her scarf. “I know.” He kissed her head and could feel his heart pick up a high, steady beat. Her lips were on his neck and something shifted inside him. He held her face and kissed her again. Hard. This time the kiss didn’t end. The saxophonist had already moved onto another song, and Mac felt himself grow rock hard. Mac finally released her; this was getting out of control.

  He was still holding her when he said, “Carolyn, I need to step back or we’re going to do something we’ll both regret.”

  She nodded and stepped away from him.

  Mac almost lost his footing.

  Kate…Her name drifted through his mind. They were less than a block from their hotel. He should go back and call her and tell her he loves her and hear her voice, and then he should book a ticket and get the hell out of Paris before he did something to kill the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  They walked in silence to the hotel and Carolyn said, “Mac, you go up. I’m going to stay down here.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked. She sat down on a bench outside the hotel. The streets were quiet. It was late and only a few people were out walking the streets.

  Carolyn nodded, “I’m fine. I-I just need to be alone.”

  Mac nodded, “Sure, of course. Look, what happened back there, I–”

  She held up a hand. “Don’t, Mac. Let’s not even talk about it. It’s fine. I mean, it was great, and well, I just need to be alone.”

  He nodded, “Of course. I’ll be upstairs. Knock if you need anything.”

  But the minute the sentence was out of his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.

  Carolyn only smiled, “Good night, Mac. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Mac hesitated before he said, “Carolyn, I think I should fly back early.”

  She looked away. “Of course. That’s best.” Then she crossed her legs and pretended to be lost in thought. But Mac knew her well enough to know that the kiss had affected her as it had him.

  That’s why leaving was critical.

  “I’ll tell the boys that something came up and I—”

  “Mac, let’s not do this. Whatever you tell them is fine, and thank you for coming here with me. It meant everything.” She did not look at him when she spoke, but he could hear the tremble in her voice, and he was pretty sure she was crying.

  He headed upstairs and fought the urge to sit beside her and comfort her. What the hell was he doing? This whole thing had been crazy from the start. They’d gotten too close spending all that time together. Going through what she did, being by her side. It had been great, and certainly the closure they both needed, but it had revived something in him—something he’d forgotten: How deeply he’d loved her.

  Mac got to his room and dialed Kate’s number. He got voicemail. He hung up and sent her a text:

  I love you. I miss you. XO

  Then he showered, emerging from the bathroom wrapped in a thick white towel. It wasn’t until he was out of the bathroom that he heard the crying coming from Carolyn’s adjoining room. He respected her privacy. Although the door that joined the two rooms was unlocked, he never went in without knocking. Then he heard a crash and her cry out. He instinctively yanked open the door to find Carolyn just getting up off of the floor.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, half kneeling down to help her up. His bare chest was still damp from the shower, his hair wet and tousled. God, he hated to see Carolyn cry.

  “I-I’m sorry, I just, I didn’t see the table. I just slammed right into it.”

  He held her arms to steady her as she rose. “What’s wrong, Carolyn?”

  She looked at him, this Adonis of a man standing in front of her. “I was just remembering. I mean, our kiss brought back so much, just memories of a time when I loved you so much I couldn’t think when you’d walk into a room.” Her voice was almost a whisper.

  “I know,” Mac said and just looked at her—this beautiful woman who still, after all she’d been through, could take any man’s breath away.

  Carolyn reached a hand up and placed her palm on his chest over his heart.

  “I loved how you loved me. It was all consuming and passionate, and I missed you so desperately after, after…” she didn’t need to say it; he remembered it well. After they’d lost their baby, Isabella, who died shortly after she was born. The loss of that child had created a rift between them. At first, he thought that Carolyn had needed her space, and then he realized it was because she probably blamed him. He had to work. He always had to work, and she’d been home alone and she’d fallen—sort of like she’d done tonight. But back then they were dealing with a risky pregnancy, and she’d fallen off of a stepladder while decorating the baby’s room. The boys found her, ble
eding and unconscious, and Isabella had died. Had he been home, he could have gotten to her, stopped her from getting on a ladder, or something. But he hadn’t. They never made love again. She moved into a separate bedroom, and that’s when married life ended for them. That was over twenty years ago, and now they were here, in Paris, and so much time had passed. So much had been healed. The loss of her had sent him into a tailspin, and that’s when the affairs had started. He stopped coming home, and he stopped pretending to be happily married, because they weren’t. The loss of Isabella had been more than their marriage could bear.

  “I should have turned to you. We were both going through the loss of our child.” her voice was heavy with emotion, and he could hear the tears that had surfaced earlier. “I threw you away, Mac, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Then the faucet opened and tears poured from her eyes. He pulled her close to him. She held onto his almost naked body as she cried. He stroked her bare head. When she realized that her scarf had fallen off, her hands flew to her head, “You’ve never seen me bald, Mac. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  He pulled her hands away and looked at her. “You’re beautiful,” he said simply. She slowly lifted her head and her eyes met his. Then he bent his head to her and kissed her, at first gentle and then hard. His towel fell away and her hands drifted across his body.

  “Mac, you still make my heart stop,” she whispered when his mouth moved to her neck.

  He couldn’t think. He didn’t think. His mind was in overdrive with a need to feel her again, to be inside her, to remember what it was like to make love to this woman he had loved so deeply. His hands moved to the buttons on her blouse and he opened them easily. He pushed the blouse off of her shoulders and unlatched her bra. When it fell away, he looked at her and said, “My God, you’re beautiful.”

  And then he picked her up and put her on the bed. His deep desire for this woman pushed Kate to a far corner of his mind where he could not hear her call his name. It was just he and Carolyn. When he pushed himself inside her, the years fell away. Suddenly, they were young, newly married, and planning their life. He found himself lost in her and the memories of their life together.