Madeline looked at Kate and said softly, “I need to tell my story, but I’m afraid.”
“Why are you afraid? Tim can’t hurt you. He’s still in prison, right?”
Madeline took a deep breath. “He can and he will, even from prison. But my children have questions, and I think that I want people to know what really happened.”
“What do you mean, Madeline?”
“Tim told me he’d do this.”
The woman’s voice filled with so much emotion, for a moment Kate thought she would cry.
“He told me if I left him, he’d kill people to prove that he loved me. I didn’t tell anyone because, well, Tim was angry but I never thought, I never…”
Kate put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Madeline, have you spoken with any other publishers here, yet?”
Madeline shook her head. “I’ve been afraid. I don’t know. I mean, my side of the story was never reported. I know everyone would probably rather just forget this, but my children live in shame, and I feel like I have to do something. The abuse, the torture, the fear, it has to end.”
“Abuse? Madeline, he’s in prison, it has ended.”
The timid blond woman twisted her hands together, clenching and unclenching them as she pondered her next words.
“He still threatens me from prison.”
Kate frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Madeline took a deep breath and continued. “Any woman who has been in an abusive relationship will understand this. Even without having access, an abuser can still abuse. Whether it’s a veiled threat mentioned in passing, or cryptic words spoken to our children when they talk with him, it’s always there. Women who have been abused live with this; it’s almost as frightening as having them in front of you. You never know when they’ll strike or, as in Tim’s case, whether he has people on the outside who can help him finish the job.”
Kate’s stomach twisted again. She couldn’t even imagine what that would be like. To live in fear all the time.
“Tell me about the torture,” she said in almost a whisper though she wasn’t sure if she could stomach it. Madeline hesitated for a long moment before she continued.
“We weren’t getting along for a long while, Tim and I, but he insisted I stay with him, for appearances. He said it was what the NFL wanted. For Tim, it was always about the game. One day, we had a horrible fight, and he took the kids and flew out to California and took them to Disneyland. He alerted the media so there would be shots of him being the wonderful father. He left me at home, chained to our radiator for three days.”
Kate blinked for a moment; she wasn’t sure she’d heard that right. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Tim liked doing that. He said it kept me in line.”
Kate felt like she needed to throw up, the taste of bile rising in the back of her throat. She took a deep breath, fighting the nausea, then returned her gaze to Madeline, who looked fragile and frightened. Kate put her hand over Madeline’s.
“I’ll help you,” she said in almost a whisper.
Chapter Ten
The Madeline meeting had shaken Kate. She left Madeline with a promise to see if she could get her company to publish the book. This was the kind of title she wanted to work with, the kind of book that could help women and families.
Late that day, Kate was walking through the lobby of the hotel when she spotted him, tall and tan with his blond hair slightly tousled by the wind from driving in his Jeep with the top down.
Nick turned and their eyes met. He smiled—a broad, warm, almost blinding smile. He was the quintessential California golden boy. Nick crossed the length of the lobby in quick, long strides. He took her hands and tentatively kissed her on the lips. A quick, light kiss that bore a shade of uncertainty.
“I’ve missed you,” he said softly.
“I’ve missed you, too.” It wasn’t a lie. She had missed him, but not in the way she should.
“I’m sorry. I know I should have called, but I wanted to see you. We talked about meeting up here but nothing was confirmed, so I figured I’d take a chance.” He shrugged and smiled, a warm, sexy smile.
When Nick had left New York in early January, she had told him about the conference, figuring she would have ended things with Mac by then. She cursed herself for not having the guts to call him and tell him what was going on. Kate blamed work, but she knew that wasn’t the truth. She hated conversations like the one she needed to have with Nick, and still, part of her didn’t want to have it. Nick was safe and loving and single. Mac was not safe or single, but he was loving and certainly the sexiest man she’d ever known.
“This was a bad idea, I’m sorry.” Nick understood her silence, and disappointment clouded his face.
Kate reached up and touched his cheek. “No, it’s fine, really. I’m just surprised, and I forgot to call you. I’m so sorry, Nick.”
He smiled. “It’s all right, Kate. We’re here now. Let’s have dinner tonight if you can.”
Kate’s mind flew to Mac; they’d made plans, but she needed to talk to Nick. She owed him that. Mac would have to understand.
Delia nudged Mac. “Who’s the tall and handsome man our Kate is talking with?” Mac was standing outside the main ballroom, which had a wide view of the lobby. He recognized Nick immediately.
“A friend,” he said, trying to make his voice sound level.
“Hmmm, the way he’s looking at her, he doesn’t look like much of a friend, but pretty friendly if you ask me.”
They both watched as Nick ran a thumb along Kate’s face. Mac fought off the urge to break his hand.
“It’s none of my business, Delia. Really I don’t know.”
Delia turned a blond head in his direction. “You seem bothered by this, Mac. Anything I should know?”
Her voice was teasing, but Mac heard the undercurrent of accusation. Of all the people in New York he would confess to, Delia certainly wasn’t one of them. Though she was strikingly beautiful and one of the best agents in the business. Still, he wouldn’t trust her with much of anything outside of a book deal.
“Delia, there’s nothing to know; now maybe we should both stop staring at them.” He pulled her into the main room.
“Let’s have a drink tonight,” she purred when they were inside.
“I have plans.”
“With Kate? I’d say she has other plans, Mac.”
“Delia, I need to go.” Mac walked out of the room, and Kate was still talking with Nick. He fought the urge to walk over to them. He lost the battle. In a few strides, he was standing in front of them and feeling like some meddling outsider.
“Mac. Hi.” He could tell Kate was surprised and uncomfortable.
“Kate, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Nick, good to see you again.” Mac shook his hand. He still wanted to break it.
“I just needed to tell you they swapped our sessions. I’m on at nine a.m. tomorrow, you’re not speaking until three p.m.” That was useless information, and they both knew it. Someone would have notified her of the change.
“Thanks, Mac,” Kate’s voice cracked.
“Well, I should be going. Nice to see you again, Nick.”
“Same, Mac. Good to see you. Enjoy the conference.”
Mac walked away, certain that that incident would not only cost him his man-card, but some of Kate’s confidence as well.
…
Kate had agreed to spend the evening with Nick. She knew Mac wouldn’t be happy, but he’d have to understand. His odd display in front of Nick that afternoon had left her slightly confused. Mac exuded confidence, but moments like that made Kate question his polished exterior. She turned the corner and rounded a long hallway. At the end, she saw a group of editors, including Mac. Delia was, of course, hovering nearby.
Kate approached the group and Mac spotted her. “Hey!” Kate threw the group a broad smile; they all knew her through their years in publishing. Between conferences and other networking events, their paths
had crossed more than once.
Kate turned to Mac. “Can I grab you for just a minute, Mac?”
“Sure,” he turned to the editors, “I’ll catch up with you all later.”
They walked away from the group. When they were out of earshot, Mac asked, “What’s up, Katie?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it.
“Mac, can we have dinner tomorrow night? Nick and I, well, I need to talk with him about some things.” She needed to tell him she couldn’t have a solid relationship with him because she was in love with someone she’d never have. Her life was getting more complicated by the second.
Mac only nodded. He fought the disappointment in his voice. “Of course, Kate. I understand.”
“Mac, it’s, it’s not like that…” Kate wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. It was, in fact, exactly like that. She’d had a brief relationship with Nick, and he clearly still cared about her. If she had a brain in her head, she’d tell Mac it was over and run to Nick’s waiting, open arms.
“It’s fine, Kate. Have a nice evening.” Mac walked off, his long strides carrying him quickly down the hall and out of sight.
Chapter Eleven
The hotel bar was almost empty. The hotel was full of traffic but much of it was related to the conference, and all the attendees were upstairs at the networking dinner. They were surely eating some sort of chicken breast and talking about the new trends in publishing. Mac took a big swallow of his scotch; it was his third and he felt lightheaded. He liked the disconnected feeling.
Kate. The name settled in his mind. He had no right to deny her time with another man. After all, he just knew their half-relationship was going to come to a close soon. He wanted to fight the end, to postpone it as long as he could. But, much as he wanted to, he knew it wasn’t fair to he keep a woman like Kate to himself. Now she was out with Nick, and since he’d been such an insecure moron to tell her she didn’t have to be at the conference until the afternoon, she could spend the entire night and most of the next day with Nick.
“Fucking great,” he said under his breath.
He thought of her, warm beneath him. He shifted on his chair. He wanted her with an unfamiliar desire—he couldn’t turn off his want, and his desire was impossible to compartmentalize. It had overtaken him. Part of him welcomed it, this out-of-control feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time, maybe ever. But the other part of him, the sane, married side of him, felt it was better to just let her go, push her away even. Do whatever he could to bring a swift but smooth ending to their affair. Mac caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye, a red dress that slipped gracefully through the bar. Suddenly the red dress was beside him.
“You look lonely, Mac,” Delia said in a soft, seductive voice.
“Not lonely. Just thinking and drinking.”
“What are you thinking about?” Delia motioned to the bartender to give her whatever Mac was drinking.
“Changing careers.” Mac felt a tiny slur in his words. Good. He needed to get stupid, stinking drunk.
Delia laughed, “You’ll never leave publishing, Mac. It’s in your blood.”
“Why aren’t you upstairs, pressing the flesh with everyone?”
“These events bore me. I figured you were around somewhere since Kate is out. I saw her leave with that devilishly handsome boy toy.”
Great. A play-by-play of their date. Just what Mac needed to hear.
When Mac didn’t respond, Delia continued, “I’m glad I found you.”
That makes one of us, Mac thought. Delia didn’t annoy him, per se. She was an agent and a damned good one. Most of the time he liked her—just not in that way. She seemed to never have the same man on her arm twice, which didn’t bode well. He hated being discarded. He got enough of that at home. Tonight, in particular, he didn’t need company, even someone as beautiful and seductive as Delia. Although, if there were any truth to the rumors, she’d seen more than her share of relationships. All of them, of course, in publishing.
The bartender brought Delia’s drink and Mac ordered another. Delia tossed back her scotch in one gulp. “I have to catch up with you, Mac.” She smiled, nodding to the bartender.
…
San Marino was listed as one of the most affluent communities in the United States, at one time even eclipsing Beverly Hills. The town, though small in comparison to the rest of the area, was always bustling with residents, business owners, and tourists hoping to catch a glimpse of a celebrity rumored to live there. Nestled between Los Angeles and Pasadena, San Marino would almost be considered sleepy by Southern California standards. Nick drove them through downtown where Kate observed rows of businesses and many quaint shops. It wasn’t the crazy pace of New York, that’s for sure. People walked past the shops, many pushing strollers or holding hands. She could hear the laugher of children and watched as a little girl licked an ice cream cone that almost overpowered her tiny hand. A shop owner stood outside, talking to a young couple. They laughed. Kate assumed they all knew each other. It was a little piece of Americana, nestled in the thick of a crazy maze of freeways overpowered with traffic and the sprawling, concrete jungle of Los Angeles.
“I love it here,” Nick said, almost reading her thoughts. He had invited her to see his home before they headed to dinner. Kate had agreed, mostly because she was curious where Nick lived, she assumed he resided in a cramped townhouse near the beach. But she quickly realized her stereotyping had been wrong.
“I can’t believe you live here,” she said, not wanting to sound rude and realizing she probably had anyway. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Nick threw her a disarming smile. “You need to get out more, Kate. Not everyone in California lives near the beach. I did, for a while. Then I found this place and I couldn’t pass it up.”
Nick turned onto a tree-lined street, and Kate noted the name: Monterey Road. Kate continued to be amazed that Nick lived in such an affluent neighborhood. He never put himself out there as anything but just an average guy. Kate assessed the homes on Nick’s street and assumed that most, if not all, were worth well over a million dollars. Probably more like two. Nick made a smooth turn into a driveway. The house in front of them was in the style of an English Tudor, only bigger. Kate guessed he had three or more bedrooms. It was set far off the street and boasted a well-manicured garden and lawn. Ivy climbed across its off-white painted exterior, nestling itself in all the right places.
Nick stopped his Jeep and hopped out. “Come on, Kate, let me give you a quick tour.” She was still a little stunned as they walked through an entrance, a Dutch door, leading to a large, open kitchen. At one end, there was a half-circular set of floor-to- ceiling windows and a breakfast table in the center. Everything in the kitchen seemed new and looked as if it had just been polished from top to bottom. There was an island in the center made out of butcher block. Copper pans hung above it. The floor was polished wood.
“I love to cook,” Nick smiled, “so I redid the kitchen right after I moved in. Actually, I redid much of the house. It was one of the original properties in San Marino. The previous owner was older and wasn’t able to care for it. I got it for a steal.” He grinned, “Well, by San Marino standards, of course. Come on, let me show you the rest of it.”
The living room was another enormous room with high polished wood floors and a couple of very comfortable looking couches. A dining room, which Nick admitted he rarely used, was off the living room as well. The front entryway was another impressive area, with a wide staircase that wound upstairs to three of the five bedrooms. Nick had converted the two ground floor bedrooms. One was an office and the other was a state-of-the-art home gym with a treadmill, elliptical, and free weights.
Nick glanced around. “It’s a bit much for me, but I hope someday I can fill it with a family.”
Kate gripped the handrail on the staircase. She knew she needed to talk to Nick and soon—maybe even before they went to dinner.
The master bedr
oom was enormous—almost as big as her apartment. Kate shook her head. What must Nick have thought of her tiny dwelling? The bedroom had its own private bathroom, garden tub, and a fireplace. The remaining two rooms were outfitted for guests, which Nick insisted he’d used. But Kate wasn’t convinced Nick entertained as much he’d like her to think. He worked most of the time, and when he wasn’t working in one of his stores, he was researching ways to grow them. Kate walked out of the final guestroom and stood on the landing, looking down on the entryway.
“Nick, this house is just beautiful.”
Nick watched her for a long moment and finally said, “Kate, I didn’t bring you here to convince you to be with me instead of whoever you still have in your heart. I get it, Kate. I really do. I just wanted you to see my home. I’m really proud of it.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. He’d given her an out, an easy one at that. She should just take it, nod, and say, “You’re right, Nick.” But she owed him more than that.
The Publicist Book One and Two Page 22