Three Sisters Series: Ringside

by LaVerne Thompson

  “Don’t know yet…wait. Oh for Pete’s sake! It’s him!”

  “Him who? What channel?”

  “It’s on Fox here.”

  “Let me turn on the television right quick.”

  Atlanta sat there looking at the anchorman with a picture of Hank in the background.

  “Girl, they said Hank Gaines. Is that him? He’s fine and you know those news shots aren’t the most flattering.”

  “Yeah, that’s him. Maybe with luck they’re reporting he got run over by a bus.”

  “Shh, be quiet and see what they’re saying.”

  “Today’s news is coming out of Morrison Publishing that the author of the self-help books for women by Hannah Grimes, known as life books to her fans because of their life lessons, were actually written by her grandson Hank Gains. In fact, Miss Grimes died six years ago.

  “That’s right Al. This revelation about the identity and sex of the real author is coming two weeks before the release of the latest book: Talk The Talk Walk The Walk.”

  “Very appropriate I would say Gail.”

  “Very, in other news…”

  Atlanta turned the sound down. “Wow. They beat me to it.”

  “Beat you to what?”

  “I told Hank before I left I was going to go to the media.”

  “Oooh girl! Well, if you didn’t do it who did?”

  “I have no idea.” Atlanta sat there and thought a moment. “Maybe he did.”

  “What? Why?

  “Since he thought I was going to do it, maybe he wants to put his own spin on things.” She turned the sound back up when his picture appeared again on TV.

  “And we’re getting word that there will be a news conference with Hank Gains and his editor this evening. Time to be announced shortly.”

  “See,” Atlanta said pointing with the remote at the television.

  “You read him like a book, no pun intended. I’m going to try to reach Brit again. You get some rest; you had a rough week. Call me if you need me.”

  “Thanks for listening.”

  After disconnecting, Atlanta reached for more tissues. She didn’t know what to make of Hank and this so called news conference. And she sure as hell hoped he didn’t think this was going to get her to come back to him. If that was the case, he was wasting his time and he could keep the charade going until the end of time.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Once Hank arrived in Dallas, he immediately made plans to hunt Atlanta down, and he would find her if he had to take up permanent residency to do so. He’d heard on the radio the cat was finally out of the bag. The announcement was all over the news. He hoped Atlanta saw it. Of course, he wouldn’t be surprised if she did see his face on the screen and threw something at it.

  But there was a reason he wanted to have a press conference and he wanted Atlanta by his side when he gave it. And he didn’t want to put the spotlight on her by professing his love for her on national television, but he would do whatever lengths he had to, to win her back.

  Yeah, he had a long way to go. He first needed her to listen to his explanation, let alone tell her and convince her he loved her.

  From the hotel he called both numbers in the area he thought were promising. One was listed to an A Reese and the other to Atlanta Reese. No one was home at either number. One had a system recording; the other was a man’s voice. Hank left messages at both numbers, he put his head back on the sofa and rested his eyes when the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Hank Gaines?”

  “Yes,” Hank sat up.

  “This is Channel Ten news, we would like…”

  “No!” he slammed the phone down. That was the third call in twenty minutes. Somehow word got out that the famous elusive author Hannah Grimes, really Hank Gaines, was in town.

  Hank thought a moment. Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe, just maybe Atlanta would be watching television and see that he was not far from her. But what would that do? She would probably bolt the doors and never leave her house.

  Damn he fucked up!

  He leaned against the headboard. The hell with this! He was going to get Atlanta if he had to use the media to do it.

  He reached for the phone and called those numbers again. The machine came on for both and he left the same message. “Hello. I’m not sure if this is the right number or not, but if you’re Atlanta, it’s Hank. If it’s the wrong number, I’m apologizing in advance, but if you’re my Atlanta, I don’t know what I can say to you to get you to understand. But I do know this. I do love you. I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you. Yes, I was a jerk for not telling you about myself from the beginning and I have no excuse for that.”

  “So it’s up to you. You can come see me in private and we can talk face to face. I’m here at the Mansion on Turtle Creek. Or you can come to the news conference I’m about to have in the Grand Conference room at the hotel in two hours and we can talk afterwards. It’s up to you. But I am not leaving Dallas until I see you.”

  He disconnected, and glanced at his watch. He’d better get ready. He didn’t have anything written down to say to the press. He planned to wing it. There’d probably be a barrage of questions and he’d just have to answer them with the truth.

  He may have kept secret his writing identity from Atlanta and the world, but one thing he wasn’t going to deny; he wasn’t leaving Dallas without Atlanta.

  Atlanta listened to the baritone voice on the answering machine for the umpteenth time. So he followed her. She didn’t know whether to be overjoyed or pissed that he had the audacity to fly here—and stay at the hotel blocks from her home.

  He mentioned that damn news conference. So what? He had no choice but to fess up. He’d been outted for his deceit to the public. Well one thing was for sure, she wasn’t going to meet him alone at the hotel. Now, she was curious about this news conference. Humph! That should be entertaining. He’ll probably be booed off the stage.

  That might be worth seeing.

  Atlanta got up from the couch and stretched. She just might make that news conference after all. She went to her bathroom and changed. She was going to that conference — incognito of course. She was going to get a private thrill at seeing the rest of his adoring public turn on him.

  The crowd was ginormous! A lot of media vans took up the street parking space. Once in the hotel, she squeezed her way through the crowded lobby until she made her way to the Grand Conference room. She kept squeezing, until she was about ten people deep from the front. And they were made up mostly of people from the media.

  “Can you believe that that hunk, a former middle-weight champion, was the real author of the life books?” A woman asked Atlanta as she tried to get comfortable surrounded by the wall-to-wall people.

  “I can’t believe he lied to his fans,” someone spat out from behind her.

  “Writers are always using pen names. Look at that man that writes those romances,” another shouted in Hank’s defense.

  Those were all valid points. But why did he lie to her? The woman he made love to and claimed to care for.

  “Someone is coming to the podium!” The woman in front of her shouted.

  The crowd got silent as a portly man made his way to the mike.

  “May I have everyone’s attention please? My name is Elliott Wilson and I am Mr. Gaines’ editor at Morrison Publishing. As you all already know Hank Gaines is the author of the life books. I was the one that suggested Mr. Gaines use a woman’s name as his pen name. He fought me on it at first, but I convinced him. In the writing business, it is common practice for authors to use pen names. It helps to maintain their privacy. In this instance, I also felt it would be better given our target audience that the pen name and image of the author be that of an older woman. So please, please, save all your questions for Mr. Gaines. He can explain the rest better than I can.” With that he left the podium and Hank approached right behind him.

  There were a mixture of boos and
applause from the audience. Hank held his hands up to quiet the crowd. Finally it got silent.

  “As most of you know I’m Hank Gaines. I also wrote the life books under the pseudonym Hannah Grimes. I see quite a few of you holding those books now.”

  “Hannah Grimes was actually my grandmother and she taught me a lot. She is my inspiration. So while I wrote the books under her name, the words and experiences are hers as well as mine.”

  “As many of you know, I used to be a boxer years ago. And although I was making good money, my life was spiraling out of control and empty. My grandmother had passed by then, but it was her remembered wisdom that helped me find my way. And after I left the boxing world, I thought maybe her wisdom and my experiences could help others.”

  “The problem was how to get people to listen. I allowed my editor to convince me that no one would buy a self-help book written by an ex-boxer named Hank.”

  The audience laughed.

  “My life is good now. I have a successful restaurant and spa, good friends and hopefully an understanding fan base.”

  The audience cheered now, waving his book.

  “But what I don’t have is the love of my life. You see, I deceived someone very dear to me, because once I realized how much she meant to me, how much my books meant to her, I didn’t tell her all about myself. I don’t know why I didn’t come out and tell her I wrote the books she loves so much. I guess it’s that male DNA that keeps you from doing and saying the right things.” A few women nodded in the audience. And one yelled out, “Did you want to tell her?”

  “Yes, I wanted to tell her, and there were times that I was about to, but something always interrupted us.”

  The woman in front of Atlanta shouted, “Maybe you don’t really love her.”

  “Oh, I do love this woman. There’s no doubt in my mind. She’s the best thing that has happened to me. If you notice in all my books, I never talk about love as in loving another person and giving yourself to them. It was always about taking care of and loving yourself. Well, that’s because I’ve never loved anyone else—until now. But now I think I’ve lost her. So that book, about loving someone else more than yourself, will never come out without her.”

  Atlanta stood in the middle of the crowd and suddenly felt alone. She barely heard the mumblings of agreement and sympathy for Hank’s plight from the people around her. Her sole focus was on the man who just declared his love for her on national television and perhaps the world.

  While she had gone quiet, no one else had. The crowd erupted in applause, and the media began shooting off questions to Hank. Atlanta squeezed her way through the bodies toward the podium. She didn’t have too much trouble, since the crowd behind her gave her momentum. When she reached the foot of the stage, she stood there for a moment looking up.

  Was she willing to risk her heart getting broken? He was right. The books never talked about falling in love or being in love. But they did talk about taking risks. And even if things don’t work out, you get up and brush yourself off.

  She was finally willing to do that.

  She yelled Hank’s name.

  Hank was overwhelmed by the reception he received. People where applauding him. He heard one fan yell, if his girlfriend didn’t want him she did. His fans understood and forgave him. That was evident when they began chanting his name. Books were being waved at him and the hotel security was having trouble controlling the crowd.

  Despite all the pandemonium, Hank’s attention was caught by one lone voice. The cry of his name sounded different than the adoring chants. He had been looking out past the reporters over the crowd, but the sound was near. He looked down near the edge of the stage, saw a beloved face, and stepped in that direction. He bent down and took Atlanta by the wrists, pulling her up on stage with him.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Forgive me. I love you. I want you in my life; please don’t leave me again. I know it’s too soon, but I can’t risk losing you again. Marry me.”

  Atlanta placed her head against his forehead, and hung on to his arms like she wasn’t letting go. “I do forgive you. I love you too.”

  When his lips covered hers Atlanta saw flashes of light all around them from the cameras that took the shot.

  Hank broke the kiss, uncaring of the questions and shouts around them from the crowd going wild. “But will you marry me?”

  Atlanta looked over the crowd and heard the room yell a unanimous, Yes! “I think they just answered for me.” She turned to look into his eyes. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  Their lips touched once more and everything else disappeared.

  The End

  lavernethompson.webs.com

  Author Bio- LaVerne Thompson

  LaVerne Thompson is a wife, mother and former intellectual property attorney. An avid reader and multi-published author, she writes about what she loves to read most contemporary, fantasy, and sci/fi romances. To learn more about her work visit her website at lavernethompson.webs.com or check out her blog at isisindcblog.blogspot.com to learn more about her.

  http://www.myspace.com/stephaniespalino

  Author Bio- Stephanie Williams

  My name is Stephanie Williams. I am a native to Los Angeles, born 43 years ago. I am a full-time home business owner in the export/import trade as well as a contract Purchasing Agent for a medical facility. I enjoy opera, classical music and am a huge history buff. Reading is my passion and it is not unusual for me to read a book a week, whether it’s War in Peace or short stories of Poe and of course romance and erotica. I’ve traveled extensively and it's not unusual to find me celebrating Christmas in the Land Down Under with a Shrimp on the Barbie. To learn more about me and what I’m up to, visit me at http://www.myspace.com/stephaniespalino

  Stephanie Williams:

  Your Local Handy Man;

  LaVerne Thompson:

  Promises

  Hold On