The Publicist (6 page)

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Authors: Christina George

BOOK: The Publicist
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Chapter Eleven

“We’re here with the legendary police duo, Melanie Brooks and Leslie Warren.” A reporter from Entertainment Tonight was flashing a capped-tooth smile at the camera and preparing for the big interview; the one they’d been waiting on all day. The one that had Kate getting the women in make-up and hair at the ungodly hour of four a.m.

Behind her, the interview droned on as Kate double-checked the schedule for the day. They had the
Entertainment Tonight
piece that would be filmed in four separate segments so that it could be shown over four nights. Then they were doing some Associated Press pieces and a few UK channels since the show was still in syndication in England. The entire time since she’d stepped off the plane in Los Angeles, she had been consumed with the details of the red carpet event that night. The following day they were off to New York for a series of interviews and the big book and DVD signing at Wassermann’s, one of the biggest independent bookstores on the East Coast. Phil had insisted that they have the event there, and despite Wassermann’s hesitation that a twenty-five year old show could draw attention, they’d finally agreed, thanks largely to Kate’s insistence that they host this event along with her promise to help them draw a crowd. It was a promise she hoped she could keep. Book signings were often that way—you planned them and prayed for people.

“What the fuck are you doing?” It was Myrna, Phil’s assistant who couldn’t say a single sentence without cussing or making some other vile statement.

“Myrna, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kate said without lifting her eyes off the schedule. After nearly a full day of Myrna’s verbal abuse, Kate was almost used to her digs, but her raspy voice still sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

“You let the fucking makeup people go? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I let them go because the show has their own people; they should be here in ten minutes.” Kate continued to study the schedule, refusing to look up or acknowledge Myrna with eye contact.

“Ten minutes? Do you have any fucking clue how long ten minutes is if these women need a touch up? Why the hell did you do that? Let our makeup people go?”

Finally Kate pulled her gaze off the schedule, “We just can’t keep two sets of makeup people on the payroll, Myrna. It doesn’t work that way.”

Myrna cocked her head; her hair dyed a brassy blond that only served to accentuate her already too-tanned face. Kate guessed Myrna to be nearing seventy and someone who arguably spent one too many days in the sun. She had darting eyes on a face that looked like wrinkly leather, with a mouth that spewed nothing but wildly inappropriate language. She was also a hanger-on, a groupie that had gotten lucky when she landed a job as Phil’s assistant years ago. Now she had no other life outside of a show that had been off the air for nearly thirty years and an aging producer whose time in the industry had long since passed.

“What the hell do you mean it doesn’t work that way? Is this piece of shit publisher getting cheap on us? Looks like I’m gonna have to talk to Phil!” she said, stomping off.

That was Myrna’s catch phrase for everything she didn’t like, she would “tell Phil” in the hopes it would make people change their mind or do whatever she demanded. Myrna loved playing the Phil-card and mistakenly believed that he still had the same clout he did twenty years ago. But things change and Myrna clearly hadn’t gotten the memo. Yes, Phil was the author, but when it came to changing something that would affect a publisher’s budget, even a small item like a makeup person, she was in way over her head. If Kate went to Edward and said, “Sorry Ed but these uber-important celebs couldn’t wait ten minutes to get their lipstick touched up,” he would fall out of his chair laughing. Then he’d probably fire her or worse, give her a lifetime of working with B or C-list celebrities. Just then, the studio’s makeup person walked in and Kate considered the issue over, despite the fact that she could see vilemouthed Myrna off in the corner rambling to Phil about God-knows-what-else. She was certain at this point she’d given Myrna loads to complain about. Good, at least it kept her busy and out of her hair. Just then her phone vibrated in her purse.

“Hello?”

“Hey, California girl, how’s it going?” It was Mac and for whatever reason, Kate was really glad to hear his voice. She looked around and saw that they were still setting up for the next interview; no one would notice she was gone. Quietly Kate slipped out of the side door of the studio and headed down the hall outside. “Hang on,” she said to Mac in a whisper.

“You bet, Katie. So, you getting a tan?” Kate smiled, Mac knew the answer to that question and he also knew that from the minute she landed, she probably didn’t have a single moment to herself.

“Yeah, Mac, you caught me on the beach.” She chuckled once she was outside. The California sun felt warm and tempting and for a half a second she considered hopping in a cab and heading to Santa Monica beach for the afternoon but Mac’s voice quickly brought her back to reality.

“So, how’s everything going there?”

“I hate celebrities,” Kate said.

Mac chuckled. “We all do, Katie, but we tolerate them because at some level they do sell books.”

“Not the B-listers.”

“You worried about this?” he said, genuinely concerned.

“I’ve never felt right about it, and I think Bernie severely screwed up their expectations again. I think this guy really believes he’s gonna hit the list,” she said, referring to the
New York Times
Best Seller list.

“Well, Bernie needs to set him straight; that isn’t your job Katie. You’re the publicity, not a magician, and if Bernie’s given another author delusions of grandeur, he needs to be talked to. Do you want me to handle this?”

“No, Mac, it’s fine, really. Day after tomorrow we head back to the city and then in a few days we’re done. From there Bernie can handle the fallout of a non-selling book.”

“Is he there?” Mac said asking a question he already knew the answer to.

“Of course not, Mac, but I’m betting he’ll be here for the red carpet event tomorrow.”

Kate could hear Mac sigh on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, that’s probably true. I’m sorry you have to deal with this on your own.”

“Hey, it’s fine, I’m super publicist remember, if I can talk someone down off of a building, I can handle these mangled B-lister expectations.”

It was the first time Mac had heard Kate joke about the near jump Haley did, he was glad she was finally moving past it.

“Listen, Kate, I called because we need to go to Seattle next week and meet with this author. I was hoping we could leave on Tuesday. What’s your week like?”

“Hang on…” Kate fumbled with her phone, checking her schedule. “It looks fine but you might also want to check with Lulu and make sure nothing got added that didn’t sync to this thing yet.” Lulu was a publicist hopeful who aspired to have her own books one day, though for now she supported the team and handled much of the scheduling for the more senior publicity people. She also knew instinctively when Kate needed a shot of caffeine and would often surprise her with a steaming latte at just the right moment.

“Great, I’ll check with Lu. So, you’re sure you’re going to be ok out there?”

“Yeah, Mac, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Sounds good, Katie, knock ‘em dead.” The line went dead. Kate shoved the phone back in its case and turned to head inside.

“You taking a fucking break,
again
?”

Kate jumped at Myrna’s voice. Of course the vile witch would know she was missing. Kate walked past the aging wannabe, ignoring her screeching voice, and headed back inside.

The red carpet event was a huge success. Despite the fact that Phil hadn’t worked in the industry for a number of years, he still had a lot of friends, most of them also B-listers but Kate didn’t care. It filled a room and kept the hum of conversation at an exciting peak. Bernie was there of course, as predicted he had shown up in time to walk the red carpet and smile for the cameras. Kate spotted him inside elbowing his way to another guest, as he scanned the room for more people he needed to hob-nob with.

.

Chapter Twelve

The signing at Wassermann’s was scheduled for Friday and everything was in place. Books were ordered and the store had been receiving a brisk pace of calls inquiring about the event. Leslie and Melanie had a huge gay following and Kate had spent a considerable amount of time promoting the event to publications and blogs across the ‘Net, hoping and praying they would come out in droves.

Kate’s publisher put the entire group up at the Lowe’s Hotel on Park South. It was a sprawling, luxurious place and home of The Library, a dark and intimate bar/restaurant inside the hotel that was known for its business A-listers and endless deals that were made within its walls.

The first stop on Friday morning was to
Good Morning America
, then
The Ellen Degeneres Show
for a special New York taping, and finally they would be off to
Showbiz Tonight
on CNN. While both the women had been fine during the California event, Kate noticed Melanie start to fray when they got to New York. Phil had been keeping a close eye on her to make sure she wasn’t drinking more than she should, but Kate had caught her sneaking some whiskey into her coffee that morning just before her makeup artist got there at four a.m. Phil, of course, was still sleeping as was the foul-mouthed Myrna, so Kate decided to gently mention something to Melanie, who promptly flew into a rage.

“Are you accusing me of drinking?”

“Well, you did just pour whiskey into your coffee,” Kate said, trying to remain calm while the makeup person prepared to doll Melanie up.

“I do that every morning, now be a dear and go see if you can scrape me up a bagel from room service.” Melanie threw her a sweet smile and Kate decided to forget it. Hopefully Phil would show up soon and she could stop babysitting the actress. But the minute Kate’s back was turned, Melanie poured another shot into her cup.

The timid makeup person decided to ignore what he just saw and said: “Well, Miss Melanie, are you ready to look even more beautiful than you already are?”

Melanie smiled and sipped her coffee, relaxing more with each swallow.

The limousine arrived at the hotel to take the crew to the first taping at six a.m. By the time the limo pulled up, Kate was already exhausted. Myrna had found a million things to yell at her about and Phil was convinced that by Sunday their book would be at the top of the list. Kate made a mental note to turn off her cell phone that following weekend so she wouldn’t have to listen to the endless ringing when Phil called wondering why his book wasn’t even mentioned in the
Times
, let alone on the list.

Leslie emerged from the hotel looking fresh, and smiling at Kate. They hadn’t exchanged a lot of words but Kate liked Leslie. She seemed pretty much happy with anything Kate did for her and she was grateful to have at least one person in this group who didn’t badger her endlessly with insane requests. When Melanie walked out of the hotel, Kate could tell she’d had more than one sip of whiskey in her coffee. She giggled at the chauffer and tried to flirt with the doorman who seemed terrified of this aging actress’ advances.

Kate shuffled them all into the car and they sped off to their first taping, which, to Kate’s surprise, actually went pretty well. The interviewer had been a fan of the show and was excited to have the women on. Kate watched Melanie closely and for whatever reason, she seemed to pull it off. Aside from her and the makeup person who had been hired for the entire day, no one would know she was probably well beyond the legal limit to drive. Thank God she was only walking, talking, and smiling and so far as Kate could see, Melanie managed to pull that off quite well.

The morning wore on and the signing, scheduled for two p.m. that day, was already drawing a crowd. As Kate predicted, it was almost all from the gay and lesbian community and she was glad she’d taken that route. They were lined up outside the store. Wassermann’s would be pleased and Kate knew she’d kept her promise. Maybe this would turn out to be an okay day after all.

When they got to CNN, Melanie started to complain about her back. She’d been known for chronic back pain and when she was found nude on Rodeo Drive and her blood showed a level of painkillers, she swore it was her meds and nothing more.

“Katie,” she smiled sweetly when they got to the CNN building, “I need some water to take my pills or I’ll never make it through this interview.”

Kate rested her hand on Melanie’s elbow and pulled her aside: “Melanie listen, I’d like to help you with this but you and I both know you’ve been drinking. Don’t deny it.” Kate added quickly when Melanie opened her mouth in protest, “I need you to help me pull this off; it’s a quick, fifteen minute interview, that’s all, then we’re done and you can have your pain pills.” Kate lied, knowing full well that Melanie needed to stay off of them at least till the signing was over but Kate would jump off that bridge when she came to it.

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