A Second Chance (The Publicist, Book Four) Read online

  Kate’s lips lifted into a smile, “Our boy really loves his aunt.” And that he did, every time he would spot Vivienne, his little chubby arms would open and he’d squeal in delight.

  “Something smells good,” Kate shrugged out of her jacket, set down her purse and briefcase and walked over to the kitchen. Nick stirred something and Kate wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his back.

  “Long day?” he asked, setting down the spoon and turning to her. He kissed her softly.

  She smiled. God, she loved his kiss. “Good day or a great day. We may be getting the Wonder Woman book, an agent called me about it today.”

  Nick’s eyes widened, “Wow, she’s writing a book? I bet that’s going be one helluva story.”

  “It’s supposed to be, I mean, I’m sure she can’t reveal a lot but even so, she must have had some pretty incredible experiences.”

  Nick nodded and grabbed an already uncorked a bottle of wine, “When will you hear?”

  “Tomorrow, I think. The agent promised to send some chapters later tonight, and I have a call with her tomorrow to talk about what a deal may look like. The book will probably go to auction.”

  Nick handed her a glass of merlot. As she took it, he said, “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

  Nick could read her like a book. Kate ran a finger across the smooth glass and said, “You know me so well,” she reached up and kissed him and told him, “I ran into Mac today.”

  Nick’s eyebrows raised, “Mac? Where?”

  “On the street, I was getting a cab and there he was. It was, I don’t know, odd…”

  Nick cocked his head, “I’m no fan, as you know, but do tell, why was it odd?”

  “Well, I told you he called a few weeks back, trying to set up lunch or something, and I didn’t call him back. Anyway, he just seemed, off, sad, even a little, I don’t know, broken.”

  Nick took her hand and led her to the couch, “Kate, baby, he lost you. That’s not something a man gets over. I should know.” Nick winked.

  Kate let out a sigh, “I just thought, I mean, you know Mac, being Mac, he would have moved on or something. I don’t know what ever happened to him and his ex-wife, but I figured they’d get remarried or whatever. Is it wrong that this bothered me?”

  Nick ran his fingers through a sexy disorder of sun-streaked hair, “Well, while I would personally still like to punch him for being such an arrogant jackass, I do get it Kate, and no, it’s not wrong.” He covered his wife’s hand with his, ”And one of the things I love about you is this generous heart, I would be surprised if you saw someone who looked like they needed help and didn’t feel like you needed to lend a hand, but Mac brought all of this on himself.”

  It was true, Kate knew he had. “Nick, I don’t want to help him, I just don’t want him to suffer. I want him to move on, to be happy like we are.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  Kate smiled, “Nothing. While I feel bad for him, he needs to find his own way.” She sipped her wine, “And I really hope he does.”

  Chapter 4

  Mac didn’t have a lot of very close friends, not because he didn’t want to spend the time getting to know people, but often because it was simply hard to find people he wanted to be close to. Also, he’d been the king of publishing deals for many years, often inching out competing publishing houses for great books that had turned into bestsellers. You don’t make a lot of friends being the best, but it never really bothered Mac. He had a job to do and he was always keenly focused on the deal.

  Kate had been a friend and companion on his publishing adventure, but when that dissolved, he found himself spending a lot more time with Maeve. She owned an independent bookstore in Brooklyn and he loved her like a mother. She was much older than Mac, but that never slowed her down. She was warm, welcoming and comforting, with no game, no bullshit, and just what he needed right now. Seeing Kate had rattled him, but not in a way that he had expected. It rattled him because he realized in that one moment that he hadn’t let himself move on, and though he missed Kate and part of him still loved her, something deeper was going on.

  Mac spotted the bookstore sign and his step quickened. When he reached the door, he pushed it open, triggering the bell to tinkle overhead. It was a comforting sound, old fashioned in a way that reminded him of a lost time, before cell phones became mini-computers and electronic everything. Maeve kept her store neat and very well-run, but she refused to give way to technology. She had a cell phone, only because her son insisted she get one so he could reach her, but that was it. Mac was pretty sure the store cash register was an antique and worth quite a bit of money, but that, as well as the some of the vintage mosaic light fixtures and dark wooden bookshelves, only added to the ambiance of the store. Mac stood in the doorway for a moment and inhaled deeply. He loved the smell of books, something that was getting lost with all of the electronic reading devices that now proliferated the industry.

  “Why, MacDermott Ellis, it’s good to see you!” Maeve’s bright smile creased her already wrinkled face. Mac guessed that she was well into her late seventies though he never actually knew for sure, and being polite, he never asked. She had short, wavy hair that was always perfectly kept and a smile that never faltered. She walked over and hugged him and he took another deep breath. She smelled of peaches, vanilla and something else, he couldn’t quite place it, but whatever it was, it was comforting. The way your grandmother’s house smells; like comfort, love and safety. It’s funny how that smell follows us, no matter how old we get. We never forget the smell of a place where we are loved and accepted.

  “What brings you to my store, Mac?” Maeve smiled, “Come, let’s sit in the back and have a chat.” It was before noon and the store was empty. Maeve walked to the back of her shop where tables and chairs were arranged for reading. They walked past the neat rows of books, all shelved by genre. They were orderly, like everything else in this store.

  The sitting area in the back was small and cozy, Maeve walked over to a corner table, pulled out a chair and sat down. Mac followed her lead.

  “So tell me, how is everything, how are your boys?”

  A smile reached Mac’s eyes, he was always happy to talk about his sons, “They’re good, David just got a job at a top law firm and Daniel is doing his medical internship at NYU. I think he wants to specialize in pediatric oncology.”

  Maeve nodded, “That’s not a surprise after what happened with their mother. Speaking of which, how is Carolyn doing?”

  Mac smiled, “She’s doing great. She’s traveling while the boys are in school. I keep teasing her that she’s gone all “Eat, Pray, Love “on me, she’s in India now, I think. Earlier this year she went to China and she loved it.”

  Maeve leaned in and touched his hand, “She has you to thank for that, without you, Mac, she likely would not have survived this.”

  Mac thought back to Carolyn’s battle with cancer. He and Kate were together then and she’d been wildly understanding, until Mac had slept with his ex-wife in a moment of, he wasn’t really sure what, exactly. Impulse decision making was his specialty.

  “I’m just glad she’s doing better, in full remission.” Mac took a deep breath, it had been a long, difficult road for Carolyn but in her true, never-give-up fashion, she’d fought the battle and won.

  “So how are you?” Maeve said softly, “You enjoying the new job?”

  Mac nodded, “It’s good to be back, but you know, six months into this gig and M.D. is starting to turn around, but we need to sign a big book and fast. Although, I think we may have one soon.” Mac recalled his dinner the night before with Delia, it had gone well, very well actually. Mac had sent her the tentative deal this morning and was waiting to hear.

  “And what else, Mac? I can tell something else is bothering you.”

  Mac nodded and his eyes drifted to the other tables, which were empty. Traffic to the bookstore wouldn’t pick up for another hour or so, which is why he’d picked
this time to come for a visit.

  “I feel like I’ve become pathetic. Kate’s moved on and I’m still here. Carolyn’s moved on, even though there was a time when I thought we’d move on together. That just wasn’t in the cards for us a second time around. I feel like I’m in this perpetual holding pattern.”

  “And what are you going to do about it?”

  Mac raked a hand through his hair, it had become a signature move lately, and leaned back in his chair a little exasperated, “I’m not sure, really. I saw Kate yesterday, just in the street and I felt like, what the hell am I waiting for?”

  “Stop feeling bad about what happened, Mac. Yes, bad choices, agreed, but you can’t go back and change it. You can only make the best of what you’ve got.”

  “I was out of publishing for almost a year, and I came back to this gig that is fantastic. It’s great to be back on top.”

  “And what about a personal life, Mac?”

  He traced the edge of the table with his finger, “I realized, after seeing Kate, that I’ve felt so guilty for so long and that I’ve missed her…” his words trailed off and Maeve leaned forward.

  “I know you loved her, Mac, but things go the way they are supposed to. Now you have to stop living in this place where you’re in limbo, waiting to be forgiven. I’m sure Kate’s moved on—you should, too.”

  He gave her a slightly pained smile—one that tugged at some long-hidden memory, “She has and I’m happy for her. She looked, I can’t even describe it.” Mac paused, “I’d never seen her so happy and that was hard, too, because I realized that no matter what, I didn’t have the ability to make her as happy as she is now.”

  “Then you’ve given her a gift, really.”

  Mac considered her statement and before he had a chance to respond she said, “Sometimes it’s easier to want something than to have something.”

  Mac knew exactly what she meant. He’s spent his life wanting but the moment he had something, some invisible force inside him intervened.

  “I want more, Maeve.” Mac scrubbed a hand over his jaw and leaned closer to her. What he had now, just wasn’t enough. He was done living in the loss of what he’d done. It was absolutely time to move on. He could see that now.

  “Never forget, you’re Mac Ellis. Nothing keeps you down for long.”

  Mac kissed her on the cheek, “Maeve, you are my hero. You’re right. I’m done with this, and now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a deal to close.”

  “That’s my boy,” she smiled as Mac hugged her and then left the store, his swift, long strides carrying him out the door.

  Once he was outside he grabbed his phone and hit the speed dial for Delia.

  “Mac-y, hello,” She said, clearly recognizing his number.

  “Delia, I want to meet this author. Set it up. And I’m going to up the bid to get this book. I also want to work with her directly on the revisions. The ghost is good, but I think this can be better.”

  “Mac, I don’t know if she’ll agree to meet before the deal is closed.”

  “Do it Delia, I know you can. Make this happen. I want this and you know I’m still the best damned editor out there.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, Mac. Let me call her now.”

  Mac hung up and walked towards the subway.

  He was back.

  Chapter 5

  Sydney Sullivan hated the term, “Wonder Woman,” and she was grateful, at least, that no one outside of the CIA actually knew who she was. The book, of course, wouldn’t change that, she’d continue to remain anonymous, but still, the nickname would no doubt persist.

  She’d gotten lucky with the intel that most had overlooked. It was the right place, right time sort of thing. Sometimes that’s all it takes. She’d spotted a trend in communication, and realized she was onto something. That’s when the terror plot started to unravel. It was really nothing more than that. The media, however, made it seem as if she’d personally arrested every single terrorist in the world, but she hadn’t. In fact, several of them had escaped, so while that terror threat was over now, there was always someone else, ready to die for their cause.

  Catching the bad guy was a lot different than it used to be. Sometimes it wasn’t even about catching them per se, it was about following their Twitter stream or hacking into a social media account. There was a time when the bad guys were pretty simple to find, or at least simpler than they were currently. Now, you were dealing with terrorists who could spend years pretending to be “citizens” until some whack-job who was holed up in a cave got onto his social media account and activated them.

  Sydney walked down the long, polished hallway, her expensive heels clicking as she stepped and her hips swaying gently under her navy blue, form-fitting dress. She wanted to be back out in the field, not stuck here in an office, but she realized two things. First, she could actually do more good right now staying put, helping the team continue to sift through all of the data they’d recently accumulated, and second, at forty-eight, she was no longer considered prime for field duty, even though her body was in perfect shape and she could outrun, out climb, and outpace most of the newbie recruits. Her family also wanted her to retire; her parents lived in California, after retiring there from Virginia. Her mother constantly worried about the danger of Sydney’s work and insisted, when she was on a mission, that she call her regularly so she’d know Sydney was all right. Usually, Sydney’s missions didn’t allow this kind of communication, so to her chagrin, she’d have to go radio silent until she could reach out again. It was often during her calls that her mother reminded her that she never had to worry about her sisters (two of them) who led perfectly normal lives in Virginia and Wisconsin.

  Sydney thought about her own life. She lived for her work, but beyond that, aside from her sisters and parents, she had no one. Sydney had been a widow for most of her career with the CIA. It was hard to build relationships around the demands of her job and for a long time after losing her husband, she hadn’t wanted to expend the effort. Joseph Sullivan, a decorated war hero, died when she was twenty-eight.

  They had plans, lots of plans. Together they were going to save the world and then, after they did, they’d retire to the farm they bought together in Vermont and have children. Joe had always wanted a huge family. He had six brothers and sisters who Sydney still remained in touch with. Joe’s father had passed the year before and Sydney spent a lot of time with Joe’s mother when she was in town. Sydney’s hand reached up to the wedding ring she wore on a chain around her neck and ran a finger along the smooth gold. Some long and distant memory tugged at her heart.

  She reached her office, pushed the door open and stepped inside. The book had become a bit tedious by now, but years ago she’d made a promise to Joe and she intended to keep it. She checked her watch and realized that she had less than an hour before her meeting, so she reached for her phone and checked her calendar.

  Mac Ellis.

  She had agreed to meet him, at the urging of her agent, which in the end was probably a good thing. If there’s one thing Sydney knew, it was people and human behavior. She’d been studying as a human behaviorist in college when she was recruited. She’d know if this person was lying, in fact, she was so good at spotting it that she used to be called “The Human Lie Detector.” She actually preferred that to Wonder Woman.

  When Delia had called her to meet with Mac, she’d insisted to Delia that she not tell Mac her real name. Sydney insisted it was related to security, but that wasn’t at all the reason. She didn’t want Mac to know who she really was, at least not yet, and with any luck, he wouldn’t recognize her.

  Chapter 6

  Mac walked into the CIA building and was more than slightly impressed. He handed his ID to the guard, after a quick check to make sure he was who he said he was, he was given a temporary badge. At that point, he was asked to wait in the lobby until his appointment came to get him. He was early, so he decided to go the restroom and look himself over before his appoint
ment time. This was a key meeting, he needed this book, and even more, his is publishing house needed this book.

  Mac looked in the mirror and smoothed his hair back. He’d decided against wearing a tie, just an expensive, crisp white shirt, open at the neck, revealing his always slightly tanned skin. Mac had wanted to portray a less formal image. Publishers were stuffy, and he knew that was often off-putting, especially to a CIA agent who clearly wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.

  He emerged a few minutes later and sat in one of the non-descript government chairs, Mac heard clicking heels and turned to see a tall, stunning woman, with long blond hair walking towards him. For a split second he could feel his heartbeat speed up. She walked with a confidence he’d never seen before, and when he looked at her beautiful face he could feel his breath hitch. Whoever this woman was, she most definitely had the eyes of every man who stood in the lobby. She walked towards him, stuck out her hand and said,

  “You must be Mac Ellis.”

  Mac stood for a moment, “Yes, I have an appointment with...”

  “With me,” Sydney smiled, “I’m Anne Sullivan.” She said, using her middle name. She’d told her agent that until she decided whom she was going to be signing with, it was best to not disclose her actual first name.

  When Mac didn’t respond, she leaned in, her lips just inches from his ear and said, “Wonder Woman, although please don’t ever call me that or I might have to kill you.” She stepped back and threw him a broad grin.

  Mac smiled. This was Wonder Woman? He’d expected someone less, well, less feminine. Assuming she’d spent a lot of time on the road; in the desert, hunting terrorists in caves, and whatnot, that she’d be, well, a little more rugged. He was not expecting someone who looked like this; she could easily be a model.