by Jillian Dodd
Because the first one went so well.
Once she’s finished making eyes at her new husband, she turns back to me. “You look tired. Have you been taking care of yourself?”
“Things have been sort of wild lately. You’ve missed a lot.”
“Such as?”
The two of them wait patiently, looking at me with expectant expressions.
So, it looks like I have to tell all.
By the time I give them the blow-by-blow on the interviews and the incident at the store, my grandmother’s cheeks are bright red. Not from rouge either.
“How dare that filthy, disgusting piece of—”
“Now, now.” Peter takes her hand. “Remember your heart.”
“My heart? What about my granddaughter? What about so-called journalists possessing a scrap of integrity? How dare anyone put you on the spot that way!”
Now, I’m starting to get concerned too. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I should’ve known how it would upset you.”
“Upset me? You’re concerned about me when you were forced to hide in a public restroom, thanks to this? When you cannot so much as walk down the street to run an errand without being bombarded?”
“Cecile.” Peter’s voice is firmer this time. “I’m going to have to ask you to control yourself better. I realize you don’t want to listen to anyone telling you what to do, but for your sake, calm down.”
“It’s okay.” I take her hand and rub it, noticing the way the pulse in her wrist races. “Everything will be fine. I have Matt to help me.” Then, I slap my forehead. “Duh. I didn’t tell you about that either.”
“About what?”
I look at her and then at Peter. “Matt and I are … you know.”
“Together?” Peter’s brow lifts as he starts to smile. “Really?”
“Oh dear!” Grandmother takes her hands back from the two of us and claps them together. It’s like a total about-face. Now, she’s beaming, laughing. “It took long enough! How did he finally convince you?”
“You make it sound like I had to be dragged, kicking and screaming.”
She pins me with a sly, knowing look. “Didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t quite that dramatic.”
“Perhaps I should let you ladies talk about it privately.” Peter starts to get up, but I shake my head.
“You’re family. And it’s not like I’m going to start sharing dirty details.”
“Kathryn!” Grandmother gasps.
“Oh, don’t start clutching your pearls now, you.”
“She has a point.” Peter’s smiling with a tender look in his eyes.
Did it mean that much to him to hear me call him family? He is after all. As far as I’m concerned, he’s been family for a long time.
Grandmother sighs heavily. “Am I to be forever outnumbered? Is that what this is going to turn into?”
I point to her, looking at Peter. “Is that what I sound like when I sigh?”
“Should I answer truthfully?”
“All right, enough.” Grandmother makes a slashing motion in the air with her hand. “I need to know when the wedding will be held. We have so much work to do.”
My mouth falls open. Even Peter looks surprised.
Finally, I’m able to speak, though it comes out as a strained croak. “Who said anything about a wedding?”
“Who needs to?” She lifts a shoulder. “It’s obvious the two of you are meant to be married and to live … how do you put it in your books? Happily ever after?”
“Well, I don’t know that I write those actual words.”
“No, but you lead the readers to believe they will have that. Regardless, you are ignoring my point. The two of you will obviously be wed. I’ve seen it all along.”
“Has Matt hinted of matrimony yet?” Peter asks with a grin. “You have known each other for quite some time. No reason to wait.”
“Are you kidding? I made the vague suggestion that we should share an apartment, and he didn’t respond the way I’d expected. I wasn’t trying to force him into anything, but he might have taken it that way.”
“You were only being reasonable and pragmatic,” Grandmother assures me.
“Exactly.”
When Peter snorts, I glare at him.
“What?”
He sits back with an overly innocent expression. “Nothing. I know better.”
Meanwhile, my grandmother’s brain is working overtime. “Spring. A spring wedding would be lovely.”
“Would you stop, please?” I have to bury my face in my hands. “I almost wish I’d never told you.”
“No, no, I’m relieved you did. Even if it means having to keep my wedding planning quiet, for fear of your reaction.” She calms down and gets serious. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to know you aren’t alone. You have someone to lean on. I know too well how important that is. Frankly, I’m not certain how I managed without it as long as I did.”
“You’ve had Peter by your side for longer than I’ve been alive,” I point out.
She smiles, turning to him. “That’s right. I have.”
He kisses her cheek, and I just about die from the cuteness.
My phone buzzes where I left it next to me on my chair. When Grandmother shoots me a disapproving look, I have to defend myself. “I’m waiting on calls from my agent and editor over an interview I’m supposed to give either tomorrow or the next day. This one is supposed to go better. We’ll see.”
It’s an unknown number though, not one of theirs or anybody’s I recognize.
I’ve been getting a lot of calls from unknown numbers lately. They never leave a voice mail, so I have no way of knowing who’s calling. I guess there’s nothing overly weird about that.
Though I can’t help but wonder whether this is part of everything else going on. I’m not naive. I know how easy it is to find just about anything on the internet. Every cell number ever associated with a person, every address they’ve ever lived at. The whole nine yards.
Would somebody go so far as to look up my number? If so, why? Well, I’ve already seen some of the why for myself, in person. At least I can choose not to answer the phone.
“If you don’t figure out some way to keep your wedding ideas to yourself over the holidays, I’m not bringing Matt with me to dinner.” I shrug with a grimace. “Sorry. That’s the way it has to be.”
“How can you expect me to agree to that?” She throws her hands into the air. “You mean to say, I can’t so much as hint at it?”
I just shake my head and give her a shrug.
Later, once I’m outside and seriously reconsidering spending the holidays with my grandmother, the phone rings again. Again, it’s an unknown number.
Call me crazy. Call me stupid. But I can’t stop myself from answering this time as I’m ducking into a car Peter suggested I get to take me home. Normally, I’d walk to the subway, maybe do a little window shopping on the way.
I can’t trust the people around me right now, and that’s just about the most depressing thing in the world. I can’t count on being left alone, and I’m not going to walk around in disguise.
So, I have no choice but to get a hired black car and duck straight into my building afterward. The person calling me right now might well be one of the people responsible for that.
Which is why I bark out a curt, “Hello?” on answering as I walk up the steps.
Instead of sneering or laughing on the other end, there’s a smooth female voice. “Mr. Blake Marlin calling for Miss Kitty Valentine.”
Which is when I have to juggle the phone after it slips out of my hand and almost hits the floor. “Hold on, hold on, hold on!” I get a better hold on it and put it back against my ear, breathless. “Hello?”
“Are you available to speak to Mr. Marlin?”
“Uh, yes.”
Holy mackerel. I never thought Blake would actually call. He’s, like, at the very top of the top of the totem pole over at my publisher sinc
e he owns the corporation that owns the company.
That basically owns me.
He also happens to be the first man I dated when I started this wacky project Maggie had come up with.
A moment passes before he gets on the line. “Kitty Valentine. You troublesome little—”
“I can explain, Blake.”
“Oh?”
Crap. Now, he expects me to explain. “I didn’t have anything to do with all this trouble. It wasn’t my idea to start doing interviews. I was against the idea from the very beginning, but I was way outvoted, so there wasn’t much I could do about it.”
He’s quiet for a second. A very, very long second. A second that stretches out for hours.
Or is it just me?
“Are you finished?”
Oh boy, I sure do wish he didn’t sound so disappointed. “I think so. Um … it’s nice to hear from you, and I hope you’re doing well.”
He might think I can’t hear him snort with laughter, but he’d be wrong. And that’s like the pin that pops the balloon. I fall back against my door with my eyes closed, one hand over my chest.
“Kitty, did you honestly think I was calling to yell at you? And what’s with it taking so long to answer the damn phone? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days.”
“You have?”
“Yes.”
“Because you were upset, but the passage of time has soothed your anger a little?”
“I was never angry. Not at you anyway.”
“Really? Even with all this drama? What about what Dustin is saying? What about the lies he’s telling?”
“You have nothing to worry about.”
“I know you’re only saying that to make me feel better.”
“Actually, I’m not. I’m telling you the truth. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Does the man live in an alternate universe?
“He’s spilling his guts all over the place, saying we did all sorts of things we never did. He’s lying!”
“I know that. It’ll be okay. I had him sign a nondisclosure agreement—NDA for short—before your book was ever published. The way all of your guys did.”
My head snaps back. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. What, did you think I would leave you or my company open to legal complications? Trust me, it’s taken care of.”
It’s all coming at me so fast that I barely know which nugget of information to focus on first. “Wait a second. I never provided you with any real names.”
“I realize that.”
“Then, how did you know who to go to?”
“Kitty, come on. You’re a smart person. Do you think I was born yesterday?”
“No.”
“You’ve seen for yourself the sort of life I live. The resources at my disposal. When you think about it that way, you should know I would have no problem locating anybody.”
The man has a point. He once flew me to a different city on his private jet just to have dinner.
“So, you tracked them all down?”
“Not me personally, no. I have people who do that for me.” He chuckles when I gasp in surprise. “Hey, aren’t you the one who was always trying to get me to loosen up and let other people handle some of the responsibility?”
“So, you got them all to sign an agreement not to say anything?”
“Of course! How could I not? As soon as I knew this was what you were going to be doing after you and I stopped seeing each other and when I saw how much of my personal life you were exposed to, there was no other choice. I had to make sure the rest of the guys who came after me would keep their mouths shut.”
“So, I really don’t have to worry about him?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Dustin signed the NDA, and so did his manager. And when I tell you it was airtight, you can believe me. My lawyers don’t leave anything to chance.”
That much I can believe. “He’s been blabbing all over the place though. True things, lies, all sorts of stuff.”
“He probably figures he can get plenty for talking through interviews and such, that the publicity will be enough to boost his record sales. So, what’s a little old lawsuit in the face of that?” He snorts. “He’ll find out. I’ve been biding my time, giving him enough rope to hang himself with. I hope he sleeps well tonight since it’ll be the last opportunity he has to do so for quite a while.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t do it for you. I did it for the publisher. It’s just part of doing business. Knowing I was covering your ass was gravy.”
“Even though you didn’t do it for me, thank you. You went out of your way to get in touch with me, and that means a lot. I know what a busy guy you are.”
“I’ve been trying to be a little less busy lately. That was your influence, by the way. I know I said I arranged for the agreements to cover my ass, but that’s not completely true. I wanted to make sure you were safe too. You’re a special person, and I was sorry for a long time that we couldn’t make things work. The least I could do was protect you from guys like this, who only want to cash in on your talent and ability.”
“I don’t know what to say. I’m flattered. Deeply touched.”
“But I have to ask you something.”
“Should I be nervous?”
He laughs. “When are you going to settle down? Are you ever going to get tired of bouncing from one man to another?”
“You tell me, boss. I’m doing this for your publishing company.”
“That doesn’t sound promising. You realize you could write your own ticket—and no, I’m not trying to lose you as an author, but I happen to like you a lot as a person, and I won’t be the reason you can’t find somebody to share your life with.”
And it makes me wonder if he’s in love. His whole way of thinking has flipped upside down.
“Thanks, Blake. I really appreciate all of it.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As it turns out, the interview scheduled for the morning following my conversation with Blake is one he personally set up with a friend of his, the owner of some media empire who’s probably as wealthy as he is.
In other words, it’s a cakewalk, completely in my favor. Sometimes, it’s nice to know the guy at the top.
Wait, who am I kidding? It’s always nice to know the guy at the top.
Even without being aware of the setup in advance, I felt a lot more comfortable this time around, thanks to Blake’s assurances. Sure enough, the rest of the world is starting to figure out what a jerk Dustin Grant is. What a liar he is.
If he had only kept his mouth shut and minded his own business, he wouldn’t be facing a crushing lawsuit. Matt told me all about that this morning after checking the news, like he always does way before I even consider lifting an eyelid.
Knowing Dustin is getting what he deserves makes sitting in front of yet another camera, after having my hair and makeup fussed with, a lot easier to deal with. If anything, I have to bite back a laugh when Dustin’s name comes up.
Yes, I actually can be a little bitchy when I want to be.
Funny how I even have more energy and focus to devote to work now too.
Once the interview’s over in the morning, I spend time with my butt in my chair and finish my Santa story. Maggie will be thrilled.
If I never hear the words, You know we’re in a hurry to push this release, again, I will be thankful.
And I’m starting to wonder if such a thing is possible.
I sit down for dinner with Matt. He is awesome and cooked for us to celebrate my turning in my book. How sweet is that?
“What do you think about me looking for a new publisher?” I ask him.
He pauses with his fork midair. Good thing the sauce on his pasta is so thick or else it would drip.
I sincerely wish I had known a long time ago that he was a good cook. All that money I’ve spent on takeout �
�
“You mean, what do I think about you doing exactly what I told you to do ages ago?”
He gets an eye roll for that one.
“Pat yourself on the back, why don’t you?”
“I think I will.” He finally puts the pasta in his mouth, which at least gives me a few seconds where his mouth is full.
“I wouldn’t have considered it if it hadn’t been for Blake.”
His eyes darken. “Blake, huh? So, when I suggested it, you ignored me. Or did you get mad at me? I barely remember.”
Something tells me he remembers. The man has the memory of an elephant when he feels like it.
“I got mad at you because you were telling me what to do and I didn’t like your tone.”
“But you liked Blake’s tone, huh?”
“I didn’t bring this up to start an argument. I actually want your opinion. If you still think I should give it a shot.”
“Of course I think you should give it a shot. I think it’s the only fair thing to do for yourself.” He puts down the fork and leans across his dining room table. He actually has a dining room table, like a grown-up. “But I was thinking about this date-and-write idea. It certainly has taken your sales in an upward trajectory.”
“That’s true.”
“And now that your name is even better known, thanks to this publicity, you have the upper hand in the negotiations. As you should.”
“You believe that?” I ask.
“Wholeheartedly. You’re worth a lot more than what you give yourself credit for.”
“Now, let’s back up a second. I give myself plenty of credit.”
“It doesn’t show.”
“Well, you know, I don’t, like, come out and brag on myself. But I know I’m a good writer.”
“I guess all those times I’ve heard you cursing yourself out and wondering if you’re supposed to be a writer or if you should set your laptop on fire—”
“Okay, I get it.”
There’s a twinkle in his eye when he picks up his fork. “You’re the one in charge right now. This is exactly the right time for you to look around, see if anybody else would be interested in picking up your contract. Talk to Lois. Isn’t that what she does for a living?”