by Dylan Newton
The phone continued to buzz in his pocket, and finally, Drake pulled it out.
Kate again.
At the sight of her name, his mind unhelpfully brought back the vision of her face in the hotel bed last night. It was like physical pain as he relived how disheveled she looked, her face hazy in that after-sex way, her neck and shoulder abraded by his whiskers from his kisses there.
Spinning the chair so he didn’t have to stare at the mirror as the stupid marionette talked to the woman who broke his heart, Drake finally answered the phone. He asked the only question that mattered.
“Why?” he barked as soon as he picked up the call. He’d tried for rage, but to his horror, his voice sounded hurt when he clarified, “Why did you do it, Kate?”
He’d been expecting tears. That’s what Rachel had always done when she feared his anger. She’d somehow known that a woman’s tears were his kryptonite, and his ex had turned them on and off like a faucet, whenever the occasion arose.
But Kate’s voice wasn’t tearful when she answered. Instead, she’d taken the tactic of stuttering disbelief and apology. Drake rolled his eyes, glaring at the ceiling as he listened to her stammer.
“Do you—Drake, you can’t possibly think I’d have released those chapters?” Her voice was thin and reedy, and Drake had to give her props for her acting. She truly sounded taken aback when she trotted out her fiction. “Imani had called to tell me the permits for the haunted maze and the mechanical spider were both denied by the town council, and I—”
Realization dawned for him, and he finished her sentence, gripping the phone so hard he saw his knuckles whiten.
“And you thought you’d do the best damage control possible and leak out those chapters? I get it. Now, even if you set up a folding table with punch and cookies, you’re bound to still have a massive crowd of people cooing over your launch party, considering the news cycle. That was clever, Kate.”
“What? No!” Kate’s voice hardened on the other end, and Drake took a vicious glee in her anger at his truth bomb. “I was freaking out, and then I got distracted by your book. I started reading it, and suddenly, it all clicked into place. I knew how we could still have an epic launch for you—”
“And still win your EVPLEX,” he put in, purposefully needling her. “Can’t forget about that! I’m sure Everstone will be tickled to just give you the damn trophy for leaking those chapters and humiliating me on a whole new level. Honestly, you could’ve saved yourself some time and just slept with him, like Rachel did. Your book launch spreadsheet would’ve been a lot shorter.”
The line went silent, and Drake pulled the phone away, sure that she’d hung up on him. But then she spoke, her voice low and colored by tones of hurt.
“I can’t believe you’d say something that rotten to me,” she said. “What happened is I got excited about a new idea for your launch, and I accidentally left your chapters on the table down in the hotel’s café. I didn’t figure it out until I was in the car, halfway to Wellsville. I called the hotel café and was going to have the driver turn around and take me back, but they said they’d found nothing on the table. That it was probably thrown out. I thought it was taken care of, until Imani called me. It was a mistake, Drake. That’s all.”
“That’s the only true thing you’ve said this whole call. It was a mistake. All of it. Trusting you, having you help me research, introducing you to my family, sleeping with you, for God’s sake—all of it was a mistake. My mistake,” Drake said. “It was my mistake to trust you. I thought I’d learned that lesson after my last relationship, but clearly, it needed reinforcing. I should have known you had only your own best interests at heart.”
Now Kate’s voice did sound teary. “I’d never, ever betray you. Leaving the chapters out was my own stupid fault—I own that, and I am so very sorry I made that terrible mistake. Surely you know me well enough to know I’m not the type of person who’d do that purposefully?”
The door to the green room opened, and the makeup artist with the monogrammed boots breezed in, spinning his chair back around so he faced the mirror and plucking the two tissues out from either side of his collar.
“They’re ready for you, Mr. Matthews,” she said, gesturing to the door leading out into the hallway of the studio.
Drake nodded and held up one finger. The woman disappeared again, and Drake took a deep breath.
“I’ve got to go, Kate. Gotta give my fans the opportunity to skewer me. Busy night facing the wrath of my readers.”
“Drake, please! You’ve got to believe—”
“I believe, and I understand. The publicity drummed up by this will go a long way to getting you that EVPLEX nomination you thought you’d blown. Your plan is back on track, after all. I’ll see you Saturday at the launch, and don’t think about quitting, Kate.” Drake looked at his reflection in the dressing room mirror, watching his mouth move up and down as he willed his heart not to break, while he told her his only lie. “If you do, I’ll sue you for breach of contract, and even if I don’t win, I’ll tie you up in the courts for years, making it real difficult to land another client. I want you to see this through to the very end and finish what you started.”
“I’m not a quitter, and I don’t scare easily.” The tears were gone, and Kate’s voice was like cascading icicles. “I’m a professional, and I promise that I’ll give you the best book launch you’ve ever seen.”
“I know better than to fall for your promises again.”
Drake disconnected, turning his phone off.
Then, he stood, gazing into the mirror at the Knight of Nightmares.
He had finally lived up to his title.
Chapter 21
It was Kate’s biggest fear—the one she’d even admitted to Drake—and here she’d done it single-handedly.
She’d ruined Drake Matthews’s book launch.
Oh, she’d picked up the pieces, like a boss, and as she looked around at the Matthews house, she could objectively say that it was her best work. Ever. The fact she’d pulled it together at the last minute, despite the permit snafu, was pretty amazing. Except, as she watched the awed guests arrive between trick-or-treaters out for Halloween night, she wished she were happier. Prouder.
The media frenzy about Drake’s secret historical romance was still actively churning, and although he’d finally admitted it was his work on the Today show, his fans were going berserk. Much of the buzz surrounding his launch tonight wasn’t at all about Halloween Hacker but instead about Memory’s Lane. The fact that much of the chatter was positive, and that his fan base was supportive, was irrelevant.
Drake’s horror book’s launch was ruined.
And it was all her fault.
Kate stood alone in the front parlor, wiping some glitter from her white suit coat and pants. As she waited for the event to begin, she toggled her phone to the pictures, scrolling to the last one.
As selfies go, it wasn’t one of her best. The earphones she wore in the helicopter engulfed much of her head and had puffed her hair in a crazy way in the back. But her smile—it was genuine. She widened the picture to zoom in on her mouth and saw what Drake had called her “upside-down semicolon,” an odd dimple she’d always disliked. Dimples were cute when they were in the middle of your cheek, not when they were at the bottom of your smile line. But he’d always seemed mesmerized by it, and Kate found that tragic. She’d ruined things with a guy who’d been so sweet, he’d even loved her weird dimples.
Then she moved the screen to zoom in on Drake. His expression was one of pure joy. His eyes crinkled at the edges, his smile wide, showing his perfect, white teeth as he gave the camera a giant thumbs-up. It was her favorite picture of them as a couple.
It was the first picture of them as a couple.
And it was likely the last.
Those facts, all taken together, were devastating.
Drake probably hated her now, and that thought was on constant repeat as she checked off the day’s events,
her chin held high by only a measure of will. A will that wilted as the minutes ticked closer to Drake’s arrival.
As if listening to the voice inside Kate’s head, Imani took Kate’s free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“He doesn’t hate you, Katie. He was taken by surprise. We all were. But now, everyone’s on board, and my boss is thrilled—the turnout of the news media and non-ticketed readers alone is incredible. Nothing revs people up more than a last-minute scandal! I told you at the beginning of all this—Drake Matthews is a good guy, with a kind heart. He’ll eventually get over the timing of it and realize you made a mistake. It wasn’t purposeful, and you’re not set to benefit from it.”
Kate shrugged. She’d heard last night that Evan Everstone had declined to attend the Halloween book launch, pulling out at the last moment. Evidently, he’d realized the romance novel news would eclipse any momentum he’d generate by his personal appearance to promote the movie adaptation of Halloween Hacker.
“I gave up the EVPLEX when I met Everstone and his fiancée in person. They’re both toxic, and I tossed my chips on the table that night, knowing I was throwing away my chances at the award,” Kate said. “I’ve taken pictures of this event’s before and after, and I’ll upload those to my website. I don’t need an EVPLEX to showcase my versatility.”
“It’s stunning in here,” Imani said, tactfully avoiding comment on the EVPLEX vanishing from Kate’s future. “Where did you get the idea for this whole black-and-white theme?”
Kate nodded at one of the guests entering the house—already with a pair of the required blue surgical booties over his feet to protect the hardwood floors—and looked around objectively.
It was pretty perfect.
Lit by crystal chandeliers, and draped with gauzy, dark-gray material, the entire mansion was filled with black and white pumpkins that she and Imani had spray-painted in the backyard on some tarps and set up this morning after they’d finally dried. In the main foyer, as well as in the backyard, stood inflatable movie screens where a silent, black-and-white version of Dracula was projected onto the background, paying homage to the rich horror traditions of the past.
“I got it from a book I read recently,” Kate said, not wanting to admit she’d gotten the monochromatic idea, complete with featuring a silent vintage film, from Drake’s historical romance draft—the one she’d stupidly left behind at the café. The one whose missing pages had been found by a fan and then shared on a blog, which quickly went viral. Although all the social media coverage after the impromptu press conference seemed positive, she still hadn’t heard from Drake since that last terrible conversation.
She’d called him a few times, but after he refused to answer, or open her texts and instant messages, anger overtook her sorrow. His last comment gutted her.
It was a mistake. All of it. Trusting you, having you help me research, introducing you to my family, sleeping with you, for God’s sake—all of it was a mistake. Drake’s words rang through her mind whenever she slowed down enough to let in outside thoughts; hence, she’d done her best not to slow her breakneck pace.
Imani’s phone buzzed, interrupting Kate’s grim thoughts.
“Drake’s here.” Imani patted Kate’s arm. “Chin up, Katie. You crafted an amazing scarily-ever-after to be proud of, and nobody can deny that this launch is a win for Halloween Hacker. And for Drake Matthews. You mastered the chaos and turned out a spectacular event.”
Kate bit her lip as her best friend walked away.
That’s what Drake had once said to her—that chaos followed her around like a lapdog, but she’d mastered it. Too little, too late, it seemed, for their relationship.
It stung, thinking of what could have been. She’d thought Drake had gotten to know her—the real person, not the event planner—and it hurt that he’d believe she’d be so selfish as to pull a stunt like “misplace” his manuscript to win a stupid award.
Kate shook off her sorrow, tapping her earpiece to activate it.
“The guest of honor has arrived. Is everyone in position? All the guests are seated?”
“We’re set, Kate. Waiting for the command, and we’ll make it rain,” came Carl’s voice.
Her trusted assistant and friend had helped rescue his boss from a potential catastrophe, pivoting with the new plan without a whisper of annoyance.
Kate felt absurdly grateful for Carl and the rest of the Wellsville crew she’d hired for the event. At least her business, and her reputation of being on time and on budget, was still intact. She’d fulfilled her side of the bargain, not that she’d ever entertained walking away, despite Drake’s threat. She would never abandon a client, no matter how irascible they were.
Kate took a deep breath. This was it.
She closed the pocket doors to the front parlor, where guests weren’t allowed, and she slipped another doggie treat into Sasha’s crate.
“It’ll all be over soon, Sasha,” she cooed to the sweet shih tzu, who sat down contentedly to snack, her tail wagging against the side of the crate. “For better or for worse.”
Kate walked toward the kitchen and into the backyard where the tables and chairs were set up under rented white tents lit by fairy lights with miniature skulls she’d pushed over each individual bulb—five thousand of them in all—giving her a blister on the side of each thumb, covered now in twin bandages. She’d made sure the place was filled with skulls, all right.
Drake would soon arrive to his Halloween Hacker book launch. She had replanned the night to be fun, honest, and good-hearted—like Drake. Hopefully, he would at least see beyond his anger for a second to recognize she’d meant well. At the very least, she wanted him to know how much he meant to her—how much these weeks had meant in her life.
Kate’s heart was in her throat as the door from the kitchen opened and Drake’s tall shadow appeared. With a shaking hand, she activated the microphone for Carl, giving him the last command of the night.
“Let the hatchets fly.”
Chapter 22
If it weren’t for his brothers, Drake didn’t think he’d have had the courage to face the book launch. This was harder than that time he’d tandem parachuted out of an airplane with his brothers, back before Ryker was injured. In fact, it was the middle Matthews sibling who’d jumped out of the plane first, whooping and giving a thumbs-up for the helmet-cam footage. Like that day, it was Ryker who’d been the one to leap first into the fray.
He’d always been the one to step up, when others stepped back.
“Mom’s freaking out that you’re embarrassed and going to skip out on the launch tonight,” Ryker had said when he’d called this morning, waking Drake up from a deep hangover sleep at the Manhattan hotel. “She said to remind you that the whole universe is turning out for this thing, and that she’s made your favorite cupcakes. Three hundred of them. I’ve been elected by the family to ensure you show up, so when’s John ’coptering you in?”
Drake groaned, clapping his hands over his eyes to block out the sunlight coming through the two inches where the curtains didn’t meet over the hotel’s massive, room-length windows.
“I think I caught a bug. Or something,” he’d croaked into the phone, feeling his stomach roil.
Last night, after all of his interviews with the late-night hosts had wrapped up, he’d returned to the hotel, adrenaline still coursing through his body. He hadn’t been able to turn off his mind from his last conversation with Kate—hadn’t been able to get that note of hurt in her voice out of his head; the sound of tears, barely suppressed, were renting space in his mind, making it impossible to do any writing, any relaxing, any sleeping. He’d thought it might help to sample some of the alcohol in the mini-fridge.
Drake didn’t stop until every miniature bottle was empty, along with the chips, candy bars, and the package of stale trail mix. The drinks had done their magic for a while, and he’d lain there on the white sheets of the hotel bed, alternately staring up at the fake crystals of the chandel
ier and watching an old black-and-white television episode of The Munsters he’d found while flipping through the channels.
It was the episode where Herman Munster, the guy who looked like Frankenstein, had gotten a night job so he could afford to buy his wife, Lily, a nice gift for their hundredth anniversary. He’d wanted to buy her something so exquisite, she’d really know how much he loved her. Meanwhile, Lily had done the same thing, and they were both running to their clandestine jobs, each trying to keep the secret from the other, which caused them, in turn, to question their partner’s feelings. He recognized the play on the classic short story The Gift of the Magi, and he’d fallen asleep before the final reveal, where they both were bound to realize they’d been working hard to surprise each other, while meanwhile sacrificing what was most important: their time together. In spite of everything going on, his creative mind clamored for resolution to the characters’ conflict, and he couldn’t put it out of his head.
On the other end of the phone, Ryker snorted.
“I know that bug. It’s called too much Jack Daniel’s, and the cure is getting your ass out of bed and into the shower right after you call room service for coffee, breakfast, and ibuprofen. Quit your bitching. You’re not missing your book launch.”
At the mention of breakfast, Drake’s stomach gurgled in a lethargically hopeful way. He sat up, waiting for the room to spin or for the contents of his belly to make a dramatic reappearance. When neither happened, he got to his feet, shuffling into the bathroom.
“You obviously haven’t watched the news,” Drake whispered, pawing through his toiletries bag for pain reliever. Palming the caplets, he washed them down by bending down to the bathroom sink and scooping water into his mouth with his hand. “I’m not going to miss much at this launch. All anyone wants to do is give me grief about the historical romance. C’mon, Ryker. I know you want to say shit about it, so go ahead. Heap it on. Everyone else is.”