by Tiffany King
Alec chimed in again when I didn't respond right away. "Babe, are you cool with that?"
"Huh? Oh yeah. I'm sorry. You broke up for a second. You said you're having dinner with Lily and Candace?" I'm sure I didn't sound as convincing as I hoped. "Sounds fun," I added.
"Yeah, if you're okay with it. I won't go if you don't feel comfortable."
"No, no. Definitely go. Lily will be thrilled. It was nice of them to invite you." I tried forcing a smile on my face as I spoke so I wouldn't sound as skeptical as I felt.
Alec agreed with my sentiments but had to go because his next class was about to start. We said our goodbyes and he promised to call later before hanging up.
I sat staring at my phone, wondering if I had overreacted to Alec's news. Not that he noticed, thank goodness. The last thing I wanted to do was come off as the jealous girlfriend. The more I thought about it, I realized I had nothing to worry about. Alec and I were committed to each other. If he and Candace were going to be together, it would have happened already.
I placed my phone to the side and stood up to check out the goodies in the room. The sheer size of the basket Remi had sent practically took up the entire table it was sitting on. I untied the large bow and let the cellophane fall away so I could get a full gander inside. There were individually wrapped chocolates with different creamy centers, fruit-dipped chocolates, pretzels wrapped in dark and white chocolate, and every nut imaginable, also covered in chocolate. It was a chocolate lover's wet dream. I nearly had an orgasm just smelling it.
Taking a handful of the wrapped chocolates, I walked around the suite discovering things I'd missed when I first arrived. Like the discreetly hidden mini fridge with an assortment of bottled waters, and as if someone above was still looking out for me, cans of Diet Coke. I pulled one from the small refrigerator and popped the top, letting the tiny bubbles tickle my nose as I took the first sip.
Grabbing my shoulder bag, I headed back to the chaise lounge. I was in the mood to get a little more writing done and the spectacular view would provide plenty of inspiration. I scooted the coffee table closer, placing my Diet Coke and chocolates within reach. Settling myself on the chaise with my laptop on my folded legs, I was ready to get started.
Several hours and a couple thousand words later, I closed my laptop and stretched my arms up over my head. The book was progressing so well it almost scared me. Sooner or later I was bound to hit a brick wall. The characters were finding their own voices and driving the whole story. For some reason, this project felt different. Maybe it was the excitement of starting a new series with fresh characters, or it could be the energy in the city that was helping my mojo.
A sudden knock at the door made me jump from the chaise in excitement because I already knew who was waiting on the other side.
"Holy shitballs, are you a celebrity or something?" Olivia asked, stepping into the suite. She openly gawked like I had when I arrived earlier. "Did they mix you up with J.K. Rowling?"
I smacked her on the arm. "I know, right? When I got here I thought it was a mistake too. I've decided even if they did eff up, they'll have to drag me from the room kicking and screaming. By the way, why didn't you tell me I would have an assistant during the trip? It seems like overkill, don't you think? You and Mom will be with me for almost half the trip."
Olivia left her suitcase by the large closet and headed to the sitting area before answering. "I knew you'd say that, which is why I decided to let you discover that tidbit on your own. I didn't want you to balk at the idea. Besides, if they want to give you an assistant, why not take it? Greg seemed cool on the phone, and I'm told he's quite efficient."
"He is, but doesn't all of this seem like a little too much? It makes me nervous to think about all the dough they're sinking into this. What if the new book comes out next week and totally bombs?"
Olivia rolled her eyes dramatically. "Why would you even say that? That's like jinxing it or something. The book is going to be amazing. Everyone thinks so. Own it, slutbag." She reached into the basket and pulled out the package of chocolate-covered pretzels.
"Hey, those are mine!" I reached out to grab them.
"Ha, I knew you were a diva," she said, holding them out of my reach.
"Just kidding. I'll share," I said, unwrapping another chocolate. "I want real food though, so get your ass in gear."
"Yes, your highness."
I stuck out my tongue immaturely. "Bite me."
A small moan of pleasure left her lips as she popped one of the pretzels into her mouth. "These are amazing." She turned the box over to check out the price. "Holy monkey nuts. Twenty-two bucks for these? Maybe you're right. You don't deserve twenty-two-dollar pretzels."
"You're such a brat," I said, tossing a small throw pillow at her. "Come on, I'll buy you a twenty-two-dollar steak."
"Oh no. You're not getting off that cheap. You'll be buying me steak and lobster, sweet lips."
"Sheesh, you're an expensive date for someone who doesn't plan to put out."
She smirked, blowing me a kiss. "Don't you know it, ho bear. Maybe I'll let you spoon me later when we're in bed."
"Whatever. You'll be the one spooning me."
She burst out laughing. "You know you love me," she said, slinging an arm across my shoulder.
"Like a mother is forced to love her ugly child." I went to the bathroom to freshen up before we headed out to dinner.
We continued to trade insults in our typical endearing fashion throughout dinner. The hotel housed a popular five-star restaurant and we were able to get a table without much of a wait. True to her threat, Olivia ordered steak and lobster and a bottle of their finest wine. We drank our way through two bottles, having a blast the entire time. It was the kind of evening I needed to forget, or at least attempt to forget, my interview in the morning. Olivia knew me well, and getting me drunk had likely been her ploy from the beginning. At least she had the good sense to stop me as I waved over the waiter to order a third bottle.
"A relaxed Nicole is good, but hungover we don't want."
Olivia helped me from our booth and walked me toward the bank of elevators with her arm around my waist to hold me up. The trip was a bit hazy, and I'm fairly certain I told her I loved her and would have her babies if she got me a luggage cart to sit on so I wouldn't have to walk. "That's our diva," she said, helping me into the elevator. Then I mentioned something about needing a tiara if I was going to be a true diva. The last thing I remembered was Olivia promising to buy me one if I climbed into bed like a good girl.
The alarm went off the next morning before the sun was even up. I fumbled for my cell phone that seemed to be just out of reach, cringing at the dull thudding in my head. Two bottles of wine suddenly didn't seem like the smartest idea. I was able to scoot my body closer to the nightstand and reach my phone to stop the insistent dinging.
Olivia stretched next to me before pulling the comforter up over her head. "Hey, thanks for setting the alarm on my phone," I said sarcastically.
"Chill. I set mine too." Sure enough, just as she said the words her phone began chirping on the table next to her. She reached out from under the comforter and picked up the phone, holding out for my benefit. "See," she said, wagging it back and forth.
"Got it. Now turn it off before I throw it into the toilet."
"Yeah, yeah. Get yourself into the shower. We need to get you all nice and pretty for your big GMA day." Olivia reached over and yanked the cover from my side of the bed.
"I changed my mind. Call and tell them."
"Ah, sobriety. It's a bitch," she teased, standing up.
I groaned. She was no longer my friend. "You're supposed to be looking out for me."
She walked to my side of the bed and placed her hands on her hips. "How am I not, Miss Overdramatic?"
"You're about to let me go on live TV and make a fool of myself."
Olivia exhaled and sat on the bed next to me. "Look, Nic. I realize this is scary for you. Hell, I'm not
even sure I could do it if I were in your shoes. I do know this though: No one put a gun to the producers' heads and forced them to have N.S. Blake on the show. They want you because you're successful and have a great story. Don't stress and overanalyze it any more than that. Just be yourself and you'll do great."
She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled until I stood up from the bed. I tried digging my heels into the carpet, but she shoved at my back. "Wait," I said, turning around. "I love you, whore."
"I love you too. Now get your ass into the bathroom. I need to use the shower too, and we need to meet Greg downstairs in less than two hours."
The only problem with Olivia was that more times than not she was aggravatingly right when it came to me. She never let me forget it either. Even though it seemed like it annoyed me that she knew me as well as I knew myself, I was lucky to have her. That part I knew.
Olivia and I arrived in the lobby to find Greg holding a couple of peppermint lattes from Starbucks. "You are a saint," I said, following him toward his familiar SUV parked out front. I must have made an impression the day before because he drove much more conservatively on the way to the studio that was located in the middle of Times Square.
We arrived in one piece, but that didn't mean I wasn't ready to die or at the very least puke. We were greeted inside by a production assistant who gave us the particulars of my segment while she ushered us to a waiting room. She opened the door and I was surprised to see Remi and Jillian sitting on a small sofa.
They both stood up and hugged me, offering their words of encouragement. There was nowhere to run. The country was going to meet N.S. Blake, the supposed bestselling author who sounded more like a blabbering idiot. I could always switch to children's books. Hear Nicole Babble. Where's Nicole? See Spot and Nicole Run.
As it turned out, the appearance was easier than I expected. The hosts were extremely nice and very supportive. Although, I was so nervous I couldn't remember a word I had said. I guess I would find out if I truly embarrassed myself. Remi, Jillian, Greg, and Olivia all assured me I was being ridiculous. Of course, they had to say that.
Chapter 8
My other interviews that week went just as well. I felt I moved from a toddler vocabulary to a speech any adolescent might understand.
"I sound like I have the intelligence of a gnat," I joked, speaking to Alec on the phone.
"No way, babe. You did great on Good Morning America. Everyone here is still buzzing about it. Lily watched it on the DVR and she couldn't believe someone she knew was on TV. I talked to Olivia and she said you were brilliant in your other interviews too. As a matter of fact, she said the last person was openly flirting with you."
"But the last interview was with a woman," I replied, confused.
"I know. If you want to pursue it, I'm all in. Just sayin'."
"You're such a pervert," I said, laughing. "I can't believe you gave me permission to cheat."
"Not cheating, just dabbling. Like the old Katy Perry song."
"That song is probably the only reason you like Katy Perry. Are you a Taylor Swift fan too?" I teased.
"I don't remember her having a song about kissing a girl. Besides, she whines too much for me. Katy Perry is always so upbeat and she wears cute outfits."
I snorted, rolling my eyes. "And there you have it. Tell you what. I'll wear cupcakes on my boobs like she does if you want."
"Promises, promises. You're killing me, babe. This week has been too long without you."
"Ditto," I answered, even though it was only half true. I missed him terribly, but the past week had zipped by in a blur of activity. I'd barely had time to catch my breath. Up until yesterday I couldn't have told you what day it was until Olivia reminded me.
"It's nice of you to lie for my benefit. I know you've been busy."
He knew me too well. "That doesn't mean I don't miss you like crazy."
"I know, babe. I'm glad it's going well."
"I love you."
"I love too, sweet stuff."
Olivia waved to get my attention. She was standing with a group of people on the other side of the room.
"I better go. I'll text you later," I said regretfully. Busy was good, but I'd only spoken to Alec a handful of times during the past week and I was feeling the effects.
He sighed but didn't complain. We said our goodbyes and hung up. I stowed my phone away so I wouldn't spend my time staring at his number in my contacts list. Olivia waved at me again. I took one last glance at my phone sitting sadly at the bottom of my bag. I'd make it up to Alec later.
Pasting a smile on my face, I made my way over to the group Olivia and Greg were having a conversation with. They turned out to be studio executives, who, much to my surprise, were all fans of Wicked Lovely. Greg and Olivia had taken the initiative and scheduled a lunch with them after checking with Jillian.
"That was pretty cool," I yawned to Olivia several hours later when we were finally in our hotel room.
She nodded, massaging the back of her neck. "It really was. Did you see how excited they seemed to be eating lunch with you? I'm sure they've met plenty of famous people, but to them you were the shit. I mean, your books are good and all, but you're no Theo James."
I would have offered an appropriate comeback, but I had to agree with her. Besides, I was too tired to put that much effort into it. "Don't be an asswipe." I crawled onto the bed and dragged a pillow to my chest. My eyes felt heavy and I would do anything to be able to close them, even for a few minutes."What time is the signing?" I asked, hoping she'd tell me I had the days mixed up.
She looked at the clock on the nightstand table. "At six."
Too tired to flip over to check the time, I dragged my cell phone out of my pocket. It was already a quarter past four and the signing was at a small indie bookstore in SoHo, which meant I should be getting ready.
"Can you pretend to be me?" I joked, yawning again.
"I don't have the boobs to pull it off. Just think though, after this you'll have a little down time," she said, looking over my agenda on her phone. "The only thing you have tomorrow is dinner with Remi, Jillian, and the three other authors who will be on the Love Bus. We do have a little maintenance work to do in the morning. Just last-minute things to make sure you're ready for release day."
I sat up, grinning. I wasn't sure how the publisher's PR team would feel about Olivia's nickname for the tour bus, but it made me smile every time she said it. The Love Bug was Tony's favorite movie when he was younger, and I'd made the mistake of divulging that information to Olivia in a moment of weakness. Tony was going to kill me when he found out I had blabbed. It wasn't even a question of if, but when he found out. Olivia had already changed his contact info in my phone to Herbie after I mentioned that Tony would only answer to that name when he was seven.
"Should we send Herbie a picture of you and me with the Love Bus before you leave on Saturday?" she asked on cue, like she could read my thoughts.
"Shut it. Did I mention Tony hates it when we remind him about his Herbie fascination?"
"Even better," she said, gleefully rubbing her hands together.
"I think Satan is missing his significant other back in hell."
"I already told the old bag of flames that absence makes the heart grow fonder. He has his demons to keep him entertained while I'm away."
I shook my head. Olivia was definitely going to hell and would probably drag me with her. Knowing I couldn't procrastinate any longer, I climbed from the bed and headed to the bathroom to get myself together. The signing at the indie bookstore was tiny in comparison to the large shows I'd done during the last six months, and it was also the first time I'd be flying solo. I'd be signing early copies of Wicked Lonely, which would be releasing in two days. My worst fear was that no one would show up and I'd be sitting there staring at Olivia, Greg, and a few employees. That would be beyond embarrassing.
Greg reassured me the place was a small hole in the wall that would look crowded with even five
people inside. I was banking on that.
An hour later, Olivia and I met Greg in the lobby. I'd already decided I wouldn't be able to eat anything until after the signing. Depending on how it went, I could be drowning my sorrows in a vat of chocolate afterward.
Traffic on the way to the store was typical New York busy, but I'd come to realize Greg handled it as expertly as a race car driver. He darted and maneuvered around vehicles and obstacles like a professional. It still didn't mean I didn't have to hold on for dear life the entire time. I was just starting to get used to it. Olivia learned early on to keep her distance after my fingers left bruises on her leg the first time she rode with us.
"Hey, look at that," Greg said, interrupting Olivia and me as we were reviewing my schedule for the following week. He drove slowly past the small store where a sizable line had formed outside. It took me a moment to register what I was seeing. If not for the sign hanging over the door shaped like an old clock that read Book Time, I wouldn't have believed we were at the right location. Maybe there was a signing before mine. That could be the only explanation.
Olivia bounced on the seat, thinking the line had something to do with me. I wanted to set her straight, but I caught sight of a group of women in the line clutching copies of my first series.
Greg made a sharp right turn, pulling into a narrow alley behind the building. "The owner told me to park around back," he said, stopping beside an ordinary-looking door that could have belonged to any store, but to me now held a certain sense of magical appeal. A feeling of euphoria bubbled inside me, pulsating with a life of its own. I had already made an appearance on national television and yet, I felt like my life was about to change.
Olivia reached over and gripped my hand. I could tell by the way her eyes were shining that she could feel it too. "Are you ready for this?"
I nodded my head followed by a quick shake instead. I wished Alec was here. He was such a large part of the success I was suddenly having. I missed him acutely at that moment.