Climax: The Publicist, Book Three

by Christina George

  Kate just kept smiling and shrugged. “It’s fine, Delia. That’s not what happened at all. Things just didn’t work out.”

  “Ah, okay. Well, if you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

  Yes, when it came to confessing, Delia was the first person she thought of not telling. Although she was in fact probably one of the most talented literary agents, telling Delia a secret was like taking out a front-page ad in the New York Times.

  However, arguably Delia was probably more effective.

  “Sure, of course,” Kate smiled and nodded. Her smile felt painted on, but she was sure no one else would notice.

  “So,” Kate began, changing the subject, “how is the event?”

  “Well, I just got here yesterday so I haven’t spent much time here, but I do think there’s some talent. However, watch out for the gal with the pink streak in her hair. She thinks the ghost of Michael Jackson is living in her closet.”

  Kate frowned. Never a dull moment. “Good to know. Did you have a consult with her?

  Delia nodded, “I did. She kept telling me she hears his music everywhere, and I told her to just turn down the radio. She seemed offended.” Delia winked at her. Leave it to the brazen agent to put some fringe-dwelling author in her place.

  Kate spotted the conference coordinator and said, “Delia, I need to say hi to someone, and then maybe we can meet up at lunch?”

  “Sure, but we have a panel in an hour.”

  Kate checked her watch. “We do?” It was unlike her to forget a commitment, but then there had been a lot on her mind. “Ah, that’s right. ‘The New Publishing Era.’” Kate smiled, pleased with herself that she hadn’t totally lost it.

  Yet.

  . . . .

  Everything was more colorful in Mexico; Kate noticed this in particular as she took her seat for the panel. Many of the authors in attendance were part of the expat culture in San Miguel and surrounding areas. They all looked tan, relaxed, and well…colorful. Kate felt almost out of place in her dark suit, not to mention hot. It was easily almost eighty degrees today. She hadn’t bothered to check the weather before she left, either, so she had a suitcase full of conference-appropriate, hotter-than-hell suits. As she got comfortable and ready for the panel, she made a mental note to head out in the afternoon to find something a little more conducive to the weather.

  The panel was filled with people she knew, including Delia, of course, along with someone from Random House, Hachette, and a couple of other agents.

  Jason from the Hachette Book Group walked over and shook Kate’s hand.

  “Sorry to hear you all lost Mac,” he smiled. “He was a keeper. Did he finally just get sick of the industry?”

  Kate kept her smiled plastered on. Jason meant well, but he was a bit clueless. So far he was the only publishing person who didn’t lead with, “I saw the piece online about you and Mac.” Not only had it run on a slow news day, but clearly everyone in publishing was bored at the very same moment and decided to troll the gossip blogs. Score one for the lucky journalist.

  “Yes,” Kate kept her composure, “he just needed a break. But we’re close to replacing him.”

  “You are?” It was Jackie asking, the head of Simon & Schuster. She wasn’t on the panel, but she was in the audience and she knew Mac very well.

  Kate had often wondered how well.

  Smile. Keep the smile, Kate thought as she said, “Yes, we are, Jackie. Nice to see you.” Jackie bent in and kissed her on the cheek. “Oh that Mac,” she said in Kate’s ear, and for a moment Kate wanted to scream. It seemed everyone in publishing knew that “Mac would be Mac.” Except, of course, for her. And most people didn’t hesitate to wave their condescending fingers at her. Even Ruth Ann, who’d never met the man, had said from day one that she’d had held out some kind of Disney-screwed-up-fairy-tale hope that Mac would change, that she had changed him. But that was the joke women told themselves, right? I can change him. Some women wore that like a badge. God knows she certainly did.

  “Jackie, let’s catch up later. I think we’re about to begin.”

  Thank God for small favors, Kate thought as she sat down and reminded herself to breathe.

  Kate wasn’t a fan of anyone bailing on a commitment. She believed that you show up, you do what you say you’ll do, and you keep your word. That belief is what forced her to get herself on a plane to Mexico and show up at an event where every single one of her peers seemed to cluck their collective tongues at her and shake their heads. Didn’t the poor girl know not to pin her dreams on a cheater?

  But now the idea of bailing seemed better and better to Kate.

  Just then, the moderator called the session to order and immediately a hand popped up. A tall, very blond, very curvaceous woman stood up and said, “I have a question for Kate. It’s about Mac. He promised he’d publish me,” she purred. “I need to find out how to reach him.”

  The moderator shifted uncomfortably and said, “Eh, why don’t you address that with Ms. Mitchell after the session.”

  Kate felt her mouth go dry and her cheeks heat up. She could sense the other panelists looking at her with side glances.

  “Mac is no longer in publishing,” Kate said, her voice tight and brittle.

  The blond smiled, pushed her fake boobs out even farther, and said, “Mac promised he’d do anything to get his hands on my book.”

  When she pouted, Kate had to fight off the urge not to climb over the table, claw out her eyes, and tear out her clearly fake blond hair. A panelist to her right fidgeted in her seat.

  Breathe, breathe, breathe. She repeated the mantra in her mind. Just stay calm, she said to herself, but somewhere deep inside she could feel herself start to unravel.

  Inch by inch and thread by tenuous thread.

  CHAPTER 90

  Lulu picked up the phone and dialed Grace.

  “Hello?”

  “Grace, hi, this is Lulu at Kate’s publishing company.”

  Grace wondered why Lulu was calling her. Was it Kate? Was something wrong? “Lulu, hi, is Kate okay?”

  Grace could the slight panic in her voice when she said, “I-I’m not sure.”

  “Is she back from Mexico?”

  “No, that’s the thing. She disappeared from the conference two days ago, and she missed her session today and her author consultations. No one can find her.”

  Grace felt her heart speed up. “What? Why didn’t I know about this before?”

  “Grace, I’m sorry, but we just found out. Kate wasn’t staying on site. She was in, eh, the house Mac rented for them, and most of the speakers show up when they want. We’ve tried the house, but there’s no phone there and the housekeeper hasn’t seen her either.”

  An icy chill ran up Grace’s spine. Mexico was not a place you wanted to get lost. “Let me try her cell phone,” she said.

  “We’ve been calling her all day but her voicemail is filled up, and she’s not returning our text messages either.”

  “She’ll return mine. Let me text her now. Hang on.” Grace pulled the phone from her ear, held it out, and sent Kate a quick text.

  Call me. Worried.

  “Should I call Mac?” Lulu asked tentatively.

  “No!” Grace was adamant. “Do not call that man. She’s no longer his concern.”

  “Well, maybe he knows someone else who can help find her. I mean, he rented the house.”

  “I said no. We’ll find another way.”

  “S-sorry, Grace. We’re all just so worried. It’s not like Kate to do this. We need someone who can speak Spanish, because that would be more helpful. Do you know anyone?”

  Grace raced through the list of people she knew. Maybe the guy down at the gallery that was selling her art.

  “I might know someone,” Grace said and quickly checked her phone. No response yet from Kate. Where the hell was she? “Let me call him now and see what I can do. Meanwhile, are the conference people being helpful?”

  “Well, not re
ally. I mean, the event is essentially over and I’m trying not to raise any red flags with her peers. You know if she’s not in trouble and just went off for some alone time, I would hate to feed her to the gossip hounds. That article about her and Mac really did a number on her.”

  It had. Grace knew that all too well. Kate hated the limelight, especially something like this.

  . . . .

  Grace spent the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out how she could get through to someone who could find Kate or at least go looking for her. It wasn’t easy. She had never been to Mexico. She didn’t know the culture or the language, and the guy at the gallery wasn’t much help either. He wasn’t raised in Mexico and didn’t speak enough Spanish to be useful. Grace called Andrew who offered to fly from Atlanta, but Grace told him to hold off. She needed someone who knew the landscape there better. That’s when it occurred to her.

  Nick.

  Not only did he have a lot of legal workers who had family back there, but he was also fluent in Spanish and often traveled into Mexico to meet with some of the farmers who imported his organic fruits and vegetables.

  Despite the fact that Kate would never want her to call Nick and involve him, Grace was willing to risk her friend being pissed, and candidly, she wasn’t sure she had a choice. She had read once about Americans just “disappearing” in Mexico, and the whole idea haunted her now. What if Kate hadn’t wandered off to get some “me” time, and something horrible had happened to her? The idea made her sick to her stomach and propelled her to call the last person on earth she should probably be reaching out to.

  CHAPTER 91

  “Nick Lavigne,” he said, picking up the phone.

  “Nick, it’s Grace. I need your help. I’m sorry to call you, but—”

  “Is Kate okay?” he interrupted. Something about Grace’s voice didn’t sit right with him. Also, why would she be calling him if everything were okay?

  “No. Well, we’re not sure. She’s in Mexico and she’s missing.”

  Nick was at one of his main stores in Marina del Rey. It was busy and bustling as always. He moved to the back office where he could talk quietly.

  “Missing? Wait, what’s she doing in Mexico?”

  “She was there on a writer’s conference in San Miguel, and she’s been missing for two days. I just found out. No one seemed to notice she was gone until she missed a panel and her author consults. I don’t speak Spanish, I don’t know anyone that does, and I thought, I mean, I’m sorry to bother you with this. Especially since, well, you know all that happened…but you know Mexico and I just…” Grace’s throat caught, “I’m worried.”

  Nick could hear she was crying.

  “Where’s Mac in all of this? Is he missing, too?” Wouldn’t that be rich, calling him because the two lovebirds had trolled off together and no one could find them? No, Grace surely had more class than to call him for something like that.

  “Mac is out of the picture. They split up. He, well, I guess you should know the whole story: Mac cheated on her with his ex-wife.”

  Jesus.

  “He did what?” Nick felt an uncontrollable urge to kill him.

  “It’s a long story, but she was upset. I told her to keep her commitment to Mexico and you know Kate, she always keeps her word. So she went down there and she’s pretty fragile. I mean, she kicked him out immediately and fired him so—”

  “Christ!” Nick spat. He gripped his cell phone so tight he could feel it sweating in his hand. “That Goddamned Mac.”

  Nick’s mind spun in a million different directions. He knew from experience that Mexico was tricky if not a tad lawless. It also wasn’t safe for a woman by herself—especially in Kate’s condition—to be roaming around alone. He remembered that Kate spoke the language, or at least enough to make due. But still, none of this felt right.

  Nick waited a beat and then said, “Grace, I can’t go down there. I just can’t get involved like that.”

  “No, I’m not asking you to,” she said instantly, “but you have contacts down there, don’t you? Or workers who maybe have families they can call?”

  “Sure, I will try that, but you should know that a lot of their system works on payoffs. You only get as far as you cash will take you.”

  “I’ll send you money!” she offered quickly.

  Nick shook his head, “No, that’s not the problem; it’s that you have to be there in person with the cash.”

  “I’ll get on a plane and go down there.”

  “Do you have a passport?” Nick rubbed his temple. He could feel the tendrils of a headache starting to trickle up his spine.

  “No, no, oh, crap. I need a passport? Shit. That’s right. But what about the American Consulate?”

  “Look, let me make some calls,” Nick offered. “Let me see what I can dig up.”

  “Thank you, Nick. I’m so sorry to involve you this way.”

  “It’s fine, Grace. I’m glad you called. Leaving her down there much longer isn’t a good idea. Why don’t you keep trying to make headway with the conference, and I’ll see what I can do on this end? I’ll call you in an hour.”

  Nick hung up, dropped himself in his desk chair, and thought for a long moment. It really wasn’t like Kate to do this, to just wander off. She was, if nothing else, the picture of responsibility.

  His phone buzzed and he immediately picked it up, a text message from Stephanie. Dinner at six?

  She was at his house, making dinner as she often did.

  Well, this would go over well.

  Sorry, Hon. I’ll be late. I have to see if I can find an old girlfriend who dumped me for a guy who cheated on her. Now she’s lost in Mexico.

  God his life was complicated.

  CHAPTER 92

  Three hours later Nick had not left his desk. He brought in one of his managers who had family living in Mexico, but San Miguel was pretty far removed from anything else. It was a good two-hour drive from any major city and generally pretty hard to get to. The manager offered to send his father to look for her, but clearly that wouldn’t be easy. His manager told him that his father drove a less-than-reliable car and was also in his seventies. It was getting dark there and a pretty bad time to be driving around on dirt roads to get to this isolated town.

  He called Grace, who picked up on the first ring. “Grace, I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to make any headway yet. It’s night there now, so we’ll have to try again in the morning.” Even as he said the word he felt something twist in his gut.

  There was something wrong. He just knew it.

  “Nick, I’m so worried.” He could hear it in her voice, the fear of not knowing.

  He felt the exact same way.

  “Grace, I know, and I’m sure she’s fine.” He tried to sound convincing. He wasn’t sure he succeeded. “We’ll find her tomorrow.”

  “What if we don’t?”

  “We will. I promise.”

  What the hell was he doing promising her he’d find his ex-fiancé?

  This really wasn’t his fight. Kate was on her own. She was an adult. If she was dumb enough to wander off in a strange town in a strange country, that was her fault.

  Then Grace said, “Nick, I-I hate to ask you, but would you consider going down there to find her?” When Nick was silent, she quickly added, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but you have a passport. You go down there all the time, and I just thought…”

  “Grace, I appreciate that you’re worried, but you’re right, it’s a lot to ask. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  Nick clicked off. He sure as hell wasn’t going to go down there. What was Grace thinking?

  CHAPTER 93

  Kate’s disappearance weighed heavily on Nick’s mind as he drove home (late, of course). When he pulled in the driveway he took a beat to pull himself together.

  When he walked in, he saw Stephanie in the kitchen cooking up a storm. If there was one thing that girl loved to do besides spend money, it was cook.

 
; Nick walked over and kissed her, “Hi, Babe, thanks for making dinner.” Nick pulled her into his arms and held her tight.

  “I’m glad you’re home.” She welcomed his embrace and hugged his neck. She wasn’t living there, officially, but she remained hopeful. She spent three or four nights a week there now and had left a “spare” toothbrush there.

  You know, just in case.

  Nick pulled her even closer. It felt good to hold her, especially after the day he had.

  Yes, he cared for her. Did he love her? He wasn’t sure, maybe.

  Kate.

  Alone and in Mexico and probably lost. He shoved the thought from his mind. She had friends. He’d do what he could, but he had other priorities now.

  “Dinner smells fantastic. What is it?”

  “A recipe from that place where we had dinner last week. Asian fusion.”

  Nick threw her a devilish smile, “What’s it fused with?”

  Steph smiled and said, “Passion.”

  “I like that.” Nick kissed her deeply. An image of Kate trickled into his mind. He pushed it away as far away as he could. “When’s dinner?” He nibbled on her ear; he knew that made her crazy.

  She let out a small giggle. “Whenever you want. I can warm it later if, you know, you have other plans.”

  Kate.

  Crap.

  He kissed Stephanie again and again until he took her hand and walked her upstairs.

  . . . .

  Stephanie had already stepped out of her flimsy top and shorts before Nick could even remove his shirt.

  Suddenly his gut tightened.

  What if he was being an ass? Kate was missing and this wasn’t a good thing. He thought of his sister and her book. If Kate was in trouble, his sister’s future would be in trouble, too, and he couldn’t bear that.

  He stood back and looked at this beautiful naked girl who stood in front of him. He was a bloody fool; he knew that with the utmost certainty.

  When this was over, he was going to see about getting his head examined.