Climax: The Publicist, Book Three

by Christina George

  “And did it work?”

  Andrew chuckled, “She slammed the door in my face, but the point was I sort of get it. I mean, I felt similarly.”

  Kate didn’t respond. Then a random thought drifted through her head.

  Wasn’t she, to some degree, doing that with Nick—making things right with him to help soothe her own issues around dumping the world’s most perfect man? Or was it something else? Kate shook her head to try and dislodge the thought.

  “Kate, look,” Andrew continued when she remained silent, “why don’t you go see what Ruth Ann has to say? Have you talked with her about this?”

  “It just happened, and no, I haven’t.”

  “She has that emergency number, you know.”

  “Andrew, I don’t want to become one of those people.”

  “What people? The kind who need help?” His voice had a slight edge to it. Kate realized he’d probably called Ruth Ann a lot while he was seeing her.

  She would never intentionally offend a friend so she added, “No, I just don’t want to become someone who can’t make up her mind without consulting her therapist.”

  Andrew sighed, “You don’t get it. Do you?”

  “Get what?”

  “She’s there to help you, Kate, to teach you different ways to cope—to give you tools you didn’t have before.”

  So far Kate didn’t feel like she was getting tools at all. All Ruth Ann seemed to like to do was hold up a mirror to her life and show her how jacked up she’d been. That didn’t feel productive at all.

  “Kate, call her. Or go see her, or hell, if you feel so afraid of becoming dependent on her, then wait until your next visit. But you need to work through this; otherwise it’ll end up hurting your relationship.”

  Kate fumbled with the keys on her laptop. “I will. I see her tomorrow.”

  “Excellent. And Katie, I love you. If you need me you, know where to find me. In the meantime, try to cut Mac some slack. He’s a man, and well, we’re often pretty stupid.”

  Kate laughed, “I will, Andrew. I love you, too.”

  After she hung up, she felt a small thread of relief climb into her mind. Andrew got it even if she didn’t, which meant that it wasn’t a total disaster. It also meant that she wasn’t entirely off her rocker to let him go.

  Her door opened and Mac stepped inside. He threw her a fast, easy smile.

  “I have a surprise, Katie.” He walked to her desk and lifted her out of her chair.

  She tipped her head. “What is it?”

  Mac nuzzled her neck. “If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”

  Kate let out a small giggle. Mac’s breath on her neck made her stomach tighten in a hot, sensual way. Her breath hitched.

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  “I rented a house in Mexico.”

  Kate pulled back and looked at him. Her heart deflated. Mexico? What the hell?

  Mac pulled her hands to his mouth.

  “Kate, it’s not bad, I promise. Remember you have that speaking event at that writer’s conference in Mexico? I thought it would be nicer to stay in a house instead of at the hotel. You’re going to be there for a week, right?”

  Kate nodded. Relief flooded her knees.

  For a moment, she worried that he was taking his ex-wife to Mexico, too. Maybe that was another place on her bucket list.

  Down girl, she thought.

  “You’re going, too?” her voice had a high pitch to it. Mac knew she was anxious.

  He leaned into her, “Yes, I’m going. I thought it would be fun. You’ll have lots of downtime. We can explore the city. I hear San Miguel is really lovely.”

  The San Miguel Writers’ Conference was a weeklong event in the small, tourist town of San Miguel. A known hot-spot for ex-pats, the town boasted a lot of writers and creatives. Although Kate had never been to this event, she’d heard nothing but fantastic things about it.

  Mac pulled her into his arms.

  “We’ve had a lot of time apart, and I know this trip to Paris is rough. I just thought this would be nice. And you know, I read it’s a hotspot for weddings.”

  Marriage. Of course.

  They were getting married. It all seemed so distant now. The last few months had been a whirlwind of emotional roadblocks.

  Your life has been on a spin cycle. Ruth Ann’s voice echoed in her head. Kate was beginning to loathe the sound of it.

  “Katie?” Mac said, pulling her back into their conversation. “You still want to get married. Don’t you?” It was a reasonable question, but for a moment Kate didn’t know how to answer.

  CHAPTER 56

  The last person Kate should be talking to right now was Grace, but she really had no choice. After considerable effort, Kate had gotten Grace to agree to have dinner with Mac at their apartment the next night. Grace had been to the home Kate shared with Mac only twice, and both times Mac wasn’t home. Kate hoped it wasn’t intentional, but she was probably wrong. In all the time she and Mac had been together, Grace had shared maybe a dozen words with Mac. Kate wasn’t expecting that they’d be besties, but she loved them both and wanted Grace to see that Mac wasn’t the devil cheater Grace had painted him to be. He was a kind, loving man who adored her. Well, a kind, loving man who was now taking is ex-family to Paris.

  Kate walked briskly up the street towards Grace’s loft. Her friend had a way of reading Kate’s mind, which was comforting and freakish at the same time.

  Earlier that day, Kate had sent a text to Grace.

  Can I drop by around 1?

  I hate texting. Why don’t people call anymore? 1 is fine. Everything okay? You running off to marry Nick?

  Her friend never gave up. Kate sighed and responded, I’ll see you at 1.

  Kate stopped to get a bag of ginger tea at Grace’s favorite teashop.

  An offering to the friendship gods? Possibly. Kate knew Grace would lose it when she told her that Mac was taking Carolyn to Paris, but she’d better mention it now. If Mac happened to drop that bombshell during dinner, Grace might stab him with a fork.

  Note to self, Kate thought, Serve soup only.

  There wasn’t much damage a person could do with a spoon.

  When Mac had initially told Kate about Paris, she vowed not to tell anyone. She would let Mac go, he’d come back, and no one would have to know. Clearly she was terrible at keeping her own promises. Andrew knew, and this afternoon she’d be seeing Ruth Ann. God knows the therapist wouldn’t rest until she hammered Kate into telling her everything that was happening in her life. No doubt she’d have some comment about that promise-keeping thing, too.

  How many more sessions did she have? Two, three? Kate needed to check that. Maybe by the grace of God she was on her last session, and she could bid adieu to the crazy stuck-in-the-fifties doctor. Still, slivers of what Ruth Ann said resonated with her. Many of Kate’s authors were, in fact, cruel. Well, not all of them, but the bad ones and crazy stories were always easier to remember. And as much as Kate hated to admit it, she had handled the Nick situation as poorly as a person could handle things.

  In hindsight, she realized that she hadn’t given Nick enough credit for not just running her down in the street given the way she’d taken his ring and accepted his love—only to throw it back in his face. The fact that he even spoke to her was nothing short of a miracle.

  Kate had rehearsed a very positive angle to the whole Paris thing. The ex is dying. Her last wish is bonding with the boys. Support them through this ordeal. It was perfect. Who could dispute that this was a kind, altruistic gesture?

  Kate reached Grace’s apartment and walked up the three floors to her friend’s loft. No elevators for Grace. Since she didn’t belong to a gym (all the sweaty germs, are you kidding?), Grace tried to get her workout in wherever she could.

  “Katie, welcome to my humble studio!” The door flew open. No doubt Grace had heard Kate on the stairs.

  “Good to see you, Gracie,” Kate smiled into her hair. T
he two hugged and Kate walked inside. Grace’s loft was also her art studio, and Kate always loved looking at her latest creation. She had very little furniture, and God forbid, no TV. Whatever painting she was working on took center stage on a large easel. Grace’s painting area was not far from the window—close enough to get natural lighting but not too close that she might spend the day daydreaming instead of painting. Kate spotted the easel and wandered over to see what Grace had started.

  The canvas was larger than the ones Grace normally worked on. There were brushes everywhere—on the easel and the small table she had nearby. The painting was a park scene, with two older people sitting on a bench holding hands. The man was gazing at the woman while the woman watched a mother with her child a few feet away. The painting wasn’t done. The trees needed some filling in and the sky wasn’t complete, but Kate could already tell it was going to be beautiful.

  For years Grace had painted abstracts, and although she’d loved that, she’d recently become intrigued with people in general. She would often go to the park, Grand Central Station, or some other busy part of the city and sketch ideas.

  “I see you brought gifts.” Grace held out her hand. “I accept,” she smiled.

  “Gracie I love this…” Kate walked closer to the painting. She could see the emotion on the faces of the two people sitting on the bench. The way Grace managed to capture emotion always astounded her.

  Grace walked up behind her. “I loved this couple. I think they were probably in their eighties, and they just adored each other. When I asked them how long they had been married, the man replied, ‘Sixty amazing years.’”

  “Sixty years. Wow.” Kate felt a little tinge of something. She wondered if that would be her and Mac someday, sitting on a bench like that, still in love.

  Wondered? Kate straightened.

  Doubt, although uninvited, had begun to seep into her mind. This reaction took her by surprise.

  “I’m going to make us some tea. Then you’re going to tell why you’re here. I mean, I love seeing you and all, but you so rarely ‘drop by’ anymore.”

  Kate sat on Grace’s futon. “Mac is back, and Carolyn seems to be doing better.” She crossed her legs. “We’re still on for dinner, right?”

  Grace set the kettle on the stove.

  “Yes, tomorrow night.” Grace’s voice was even, “And I promise to be on my best behavior.”

  Kate smiled, took a deep breath, got up, and walked into the kitchen.

  “I’m really glad you’re doing this, Gracie, it means a lot.”

  Grace pulled two cups from the cupboard. She remained silent. Then after a beat, Kate’s friend looked at her.

  “I know it does. I want you to be happy, Kate, and if Mac makes you truly happy, then I’ll support you.”

  “No more trying to marry me off with Nick?” Kate smiled.

  Grace turned to her, “I will never give up my Team Nick t-shirt, but I’m sure my banter about that gets old.”

  Kate threw her a nervous smile. This was the worst possible time to tell Grace about Paris. After a year, Grace was finally coming around and actually meeting Mac and now…

  “Kate?”

  Kate was lost in thought, fumbling with the edging on Grace’s countertop. She licked her lips nervously and looked away. Kate’s eyes darted to Grace and then skittered off. Her friend could see right through her.

  Grace walked over to her and put a hand on her arm.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Mac’s taking his ex-wife to Paris.” It was out before she could stop it.

  Well, good job breaking the news in a positive way, she thought.

  Grace stopped what she was doing.

  “He’s what?!” her voice had a sharp bite to it.

  Yeah, this wasn’t going to be easy at all.

  CHAPTER 57

  The kettle started whistling, but Grace just stared at her friend.

  “Make the tea,” Kate grabbed a strand of hair and started twirling it. “I’ll explain what’s going on.”

  Grace poured two cups in silence. She added a teaspoon of honey to each and brought the steaming cups over to the couch. She handed a cup to Kate.

  “Now, tell me what the hell Mac is doing.”

  Kate blew on the tea; it was too hot to drink, but the action also bought her some time while she formulated what she was going to say. She could feel Grace watching her, which felt a bit like being under interrogation.

  Years ago, she’d worked with an author who had talked about interrogating suspects. He was a former CIA agent, and she was promoting his memoire.

  “You just sit there,” he said, “being silent is the most uncomfortable thing you can do. Silence forces action. The more you just sit there, the more likely they are to just crack.”

  She felt like that now, too. Grace was silent—sitting there, just watching her. Maybe she could fake some author emergency. Except that she would never lie to her best friend, and even if she did, she was certain Grace would see right through it. Kate stopped her hair twirling long enough to blow on the tea again.

  “Kate?” Grace said again, yanking her from her meandering thoughts.

  Kate sighed, set the cup down, and looked at her friend.

  “Grace, there’s a clinic there that Carolyn needs to go to, and she’s always wanted to see Paris.”

  “So, why does Mac have to go? His boys aren’t boys; they’re men in their twenties and pretty capable of taking their mother on a trip or to a clinic, I’m sure.” The sarcasm in her voice was evident.

  “It’s a full circle thing for Mac. He needs to do this to deal with some of the things he did to her. To right some of the past wrongs before we get married. He said he doesn’t want to carry that weighted baggage into our marriage.” Kate heard herself speak and realized she was stringing together her own, fragmented version of this.

  Grace sipped her tea and threw Kate an irritated look.

  “I don’t get this at all, Kate. Taking her to Paris? And you’re okay with that? I mean, I get that it’s for ‘her health.’” Grace threw up air quotes. “I can’t imagine why you would be. I mean, here we go again, selfish Mac doing whatever the hell he wants.”

  Kate heard her friend’s voice but little of it registered with her. Kate got up and Grace kept talking. Kate walked over to the painting and looked at the couple on the bench.

  “Kate? Did you hear what I asked you?”

  She hadn’t. She had tuned out her friend—not intentionally, but when Kate felt overwhelmed, her mind often drifted off like a kite in the breeze.

  “I didn’t, Grace. I’m sorry,” Kate spoke softly. Her gaze snagged on something outside.

  “I asked you what you’re going to do about this and why on earth you’d let him go?”

  Kate felt a wave of something well up inside her—like a lion that had been asleep and now roared to life. But it wasn’t a lion. It was her own determined will. She turned to face Grace, who was still waiting on an answer.

  “Grace, sometimes things don’t always have to make sense. Sometimes people need to do things for reasons they don’t even understand. When you love someone, you support them. You give and take.” Kate’s voice, which had started off soft, grew louder as she spoke. She pointed to the painting.

  “Do you think this couple got to where they are now by being stubbornly attached to their own ideals or their own ways of doing things? To say Mac is flawed is an understatement. I get that. But now this man, who has spent most of his life in a selfish pursuit of his own needs, is taking his dying ex-wife to Paris so she can get better and so her sons can have their mother for a little while longer. Do I like it? No. Do I understand it? I’m trying to, and I could really use your support here.”

  Grace shuffled on the sofa. Kate continued, “You know, you don’t have to live with Mac. I do. And I love him, and I want to spend my life with him. I know you have some buried fantasy that I’ll come to my senses, leave Mac, and go running back to N
ick, but that’s never going to happen. Nick is in my past. Does part of me still love him? Sure, of course. You can’t go through that kind of a relationship and not carry that love with you—at least some part of it.”

  Kate took a deep breath and realized her voice was tense, even to her own ears.

  “And you know what, I need to either be all in with Mac or get out. Being all in means supporting him and his choices. If this trip to Paris makes Mac feel like he did something good and kind for his ex-wife—if it makes him a better man for me and a better husband when we do get married—then I’m all in for that, too.”

  Kate watched Grace, waiting for her friend to respond with some biting comment about how she was delusional or about how Mac would eventually break her heart. Grace got up, set down her cup, and walked over to Kate.

  “Wow, that was some speech, Katie.” Grace hugged her, “I admire you for loving Mac the way you do and for sticking by him when he’s given you every reason to doubt him. I hope this pays off for you in ways that support you.”

  Grace pulled back and looked at her friend. “My deepest fear is that this relationship is a head-on collision waiting to happen. I know that’s my own stuff. I get that. I’m sorry if I haven’t been supportive of you and Mac, but I don’t want to see you fall or get hurt. I want you to be happy and adored, but clearly it means a lot to you that I become a better friend and support you. I promise I will try, from here on out.” Grace smiled, “starting with dinner tomorrow night and not stabbing Mac when he says something stupid or selfish.”

  Grace kissed Kate on the cheek, and Kate hoped her friend meant what she said.

  . . . .

  Kate left a short time later, her resolve fully intact. Well, more or less. She meant what she said to Grace, but part of her still feared this trip for reasons that were beyond unsettling to her.