CHAPTER SEVEN: Zoe

Monday morning rolled around much faster than I wanted it to. I forced myself out of bed at 6 A.M. (I could not believe people actually got up at such an ungodly hour) and barely had time to drink a cup of strong coffee before the doorman buzzed to let me know that the car service had arrived. I was a nervous wreck. I knew better than to eat anything because I could just picture it coming back up on camera. I already felt like I was going to hurl and knew better than to fuel the fire.

Breaking news…

Bestselling author Zoe Maxwell pukes on Good Morning Manhattan host…

Talk about your viral video moments…

I had picked out my outfit the night before and had it hanging in a garment bag by the front door: a black pencil skirt and jacket, along with a blue top, and sensible heels. Graham assured me the TV station would handle my hair and makeup, thank God, because I could barely get my eyes to focus as I stared at myself in the mirror while I brushed my teeth. He’d also had a service pick up the two hundred books I’d signed over the weekend (talk about writer’s cramp) and had them delivered to the station so I didn’t have to drag them along.

“You can show up naked in a trench coat,” he had teased as he ushered me out the door after dinner. “They have experts that can make even me look presentable.”

I stuck my phone and my keys in my purse, flung the garment bag over my shoulder, and went out the door. Zoe Maxwell, ready to take on the world… more or less.

* * *

It was a short car ride from my apartment to the TV studio downtown, although it took nearly an hour in the morning traffic. The car delivered me right to the front door and the driver said he’d be waiting to take me home after I was through. I had to admit, I felt a little special for a moment, a little like a celebrity, until I got out of the car and had to wait for the guard at the front desk to call someone with my name to make sure I had a legit reason to be there.

After a few moments, the elevator doors past the front desk opened and a short brunette in jeans and a WNYC t-shirt stepped out and came my way with her hand out. “Miss Maxell, thank you so much for coming. I’m Sara, one of the segment producers for Good Morning Manhattan.”

I gave her a nervous smile and shook her hand. “Hi, Sara. Please call me Zoe.”

“Great, Zoe, if you’ll follow me we’ll get up to hair and makeup.”

We boarded the elevator and she pushed the button, then leaned against the wall and smiled. “Would you like me to get you a cup of coffee? Tea? Juice? A bagel?”

I blew out a sigh and put a hand over my stomach. “No, honestly, I’m so nervous I might throw up my dinner from last week.”

She smiled and touched my arm reassuringly. “Don’t be nervous. Everyone gets a case of the jitters at first, but I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said, forcing a smile. The elevator doors opened and I followed her down a long hallway lined with framed photos of celebrities who had appeared on the show. George Clooney, Tom Cruise, Will Smith, Jennifer Anniston... I wondered what it would be like to be so famous that TV stations hung your picture on the wall. I doubted I’d ever find out, but it was a fun thought to have.

“Okay, you can just give me the garment bag and have a seat,” Sara said as we entered a room with a sign on the door that read, MAKEUP. I handed her the garment bag and she hung it on the door. There were two tall chairs like you’d see in a hair salon and an entire wall lined with counters filled with all kinds of makeup and huge lighted mirrors above them. I slid into one of the chairs and looked around. I wondered if Jennifer Anniston had sat in that very chair getting her famous hairdo done before the show.

Sara hung the garment bag on the door and turned to me with her hands clasped in front of her. “Okay, here’s how this will work. We are doing two segments in the 8:30 to 9:00 block. The focus is on emerging entrepreneurship and we’re featuring you in the last segment and a fitness guru in the first.”

“A fitness guru?” I asked.

She bobbed her head. “Yeah, I can’t recall his name because it’s not my segment, but he has some videos out and is really big on the West Coast, so we’re hoping that having him on will help the ratings there.”

I sort of listened as I stared at the TV that was hanging from the ceiling in the corner of the room. The blonde hostess and the handsome host were doing a cooking segment with a chef I recognized from The Cooking Channel. They were doing something with eggs and kippers. I felt my stomach creeping into my throat.

Sara was rattling on. “So, after Emily does your hair and makeup, you can change and just wait here for me to come get you after 8:30.” She looked at me with expectant eyes. “Any questions?”

I slowly shook my head. She smiled again, told me I was gonna do great again, and trotted out of the room. An older woman came in and introduced herself as Emily and started fussing with my hair. I continued to stare at the TV and prayed that I wasn’t going to puke.

* * *

Emily quickly finished my hair and makeup, then I got dressed and sat back down to wait for Sara to come for me. I glanced nervously at the clock on the wall. It was almost 8:30. I would go on sometime between 8:45 and 8:50, depending on how the show was going. I wondered where the other guest was and Emily told me male guests didn’t sit in her chair for hair and makeup. They just get a quick dusting of powder and hair spray on set. I was getting the star treatment, she said with a smile. Star treatment or not, I was still nervous as a cat in a room full of rockers.

Only when a familiar face appeared at the door did my stomach start to calm down. Graham tapped on the door and beamed his best smile my way. “Any bestselling authors in here?”

“Graham, thank God!” I said, sliding out of the chair to give him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“You’re gonna do great!” he said with a wink. “We’re all set. The books are here and they will be handed out to everyone after the segment ahead of yours ends.”

Sara suddenly appeared at the door with a look of urgency on her face. “Hey, are you ready?”

“I am,” I said, taking a deep breath.

Graham leaned in and kissed me lightly on the side of the head so as not to mess my makeup. “You’ll do great. I’ll be watching from the wings.”

“This way,” Sara said, crooking a finger at me. I fell in behind her like a good little soldier marching off to war. She spoke over her shoulder as I followed her through the maze of hallways to the set. “Okay, here’s how this will work. During the commercial break before your segment, I’ll get you situated on the couch with Dan and Erin. Everyone in the audience will have a copy of your book. Since it is an emerging entrepreneurs segment, Dan and Erin will get your tips on how to start writing as a business, then throw out a couple of questions about Pleasing Him, which was sooo fucking hot, by the way.”

I tried to smile. “Thanks.”

“The segment will last four minutes, but seem like four seconds. Once the segment ends, they’ll come back after the last commercial break to end the show with you staying on the couch. I think Graham said that you’d hang around for another few minutes or so to answer any questions the audience may have. And that’s it. Easy peasy and hopefully your book sales will soar.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” I said, fanning my face and trying not to sweat through the heavy makeup.

She led me to a chair that was behind a heavy curtain that cordoned off the backstage area from the set of the set. “You can wait here and watch the show on that monitor until I come for you. The set is just on the other side of the curtain, so you’ll also be able to hear Dan and Erin and the audience. Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Actually, I had a ton of questions, like, “What the hell was I doing there?” and “What the hell was Graham thinking?”

* * *

“Welcome back to the show!” Dan Williams, the “living Ken doll” host of Good Morning Manhattan said, waving at the camera and smiling like the happiest man on the planet. His “living Barbie doll” cohost, Erin Morris, smiled at Dan, then beamed at the camera. I had to smile. It was so corny it reminded me of a Saturday Night Live skit.

Erin held the smile as she said, “It’s Emerging Entrepreneur day here on the show. Before the break, we heard from Julie Dahl, who at age 23 founded Baby Dahl Designs, now one of the fastest growing lingerie lines for larger women. Julie had some great tips for those just starting out in the clothing business.” She turned to Dan, still smiling. “I don’t know about you, Dan, but I’m super excited to learn the success secrets from our next two entrepreneurs!”

“Ah, me, too, Erin,” Dan said. “So, let’s get to it!”

Erin read the introduction for the next guest. “Our next guest has built an amazing fitness empire from the ground up. Starting as a part-time personal trainer at age 24, he grew his business into what is now one of the fastest-growing fitness brands in the world. He’s also the go-to fitness guru for celebrities like Nicole Kitterman and Ryan Renault. And I’m sure most, if not all of you here today, know who I’m talking about! Now at the young age of just 34 he is living The American Dream. Would you please help me welcome the CEO and founder of Body by Chad, Mr. Chad Walters!”

My heart literally stopped beating in my chest when I heard his name… Did she really just say Chad Walters?

I stared at the monitor and tried to breathe as the audience—mostly women— went wild. I put my hands to my chest because it felt like the wind had been knocked out of my lungs. I stared at the monitor in shock, waiting for him to appear from the other side of the stage.

And then, there he was…

And oh my god…

I sat on the edge of my chair and watched Chad walk to the couch and give Erin a big hug. He turned to the audience and gave them a smile, which made them cheer even louder. The camera went in close on his face.

“Holy shit…” I muttered. I had thought he was good looking in college, but he looked even better now. Tall, sandy hair, blue eyes, deep tan, Kennedy jawline… and that body… holy smokes… that body… He was lean and muscular, with broad shoulders and a thick chest that stretched against the dark Polo shirt he wore. He had a narrow waist and wore workout pants and tennis shoes, like he’d just come from the gym. I felt an old familiar twinge between my legs.

I had heard that Chad had started his own fitness business in Los Angeles, but I had no idea he was a “trainer of celebrities” and a fitness guru. I had even heard of Body by Chad, but I didn’t know it was my Chad… I mean… that Chad...

He sat on the couch next to Erin with their knees touching. A tingle of jealousy bit at my heart. I listened as he talked about how he had started the business and how he was moving his brand eastward to open a gym in New York City.

“And what does your wife think about your success?” Erin asked, a little too flirty for my taste.

Chad smiled and tried to look humble. It must have been hard, given how amazing he looked. “I’m married to my work, Erin.”

“You’re a bachelor?” Erin said, trying to sound shocked. She put her hand on his knee and looked at the audience. “Well, I bet a lot of the single ladies in the audience are glad to hear that! And maybe a few of the married ones!”

The audience went wild. Just then, someone touched my shoulder. I nearly jumped out of the chair. I turned to find Sara standing there holding a clipboard to her chest. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Oh, no, just nerves,” I said.

She gave me a concerned look. “You look a little pale. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” I said, swallowing the lump that had lodged in my throat. “I’ll be fine.” It was a blatant lie. I was not fine. I couldn't tell her that my heart was screaming and my stomach twisting in knots because my ex-boyfriend—my super-fucking hot ex-boyfriend that I dumped in college—was just on the other side of the curtain.

“Okay, I’ll take you on-set soon as this segment is over.” She turned to watch Chad on the monitor. “Wow, he’s really hot.” She bumped me with her elbow and lowered her voice. “He sort of reminds me of the guy in your book, the blond guy who’s into S&M, Brad? I bet he’d be great in bed.”

“Yes,” I said quietly. You have no idea…

Sara was wearing an earpiece so the director in the booth could speak directly to her. She held a finger to the earpiece and listened for a moment, then said something into the little microphone and gave me a smile.

“Okay, Zoe, this segment ends in one minute. We’ll give them a minute to clear the set, and as soon as this guest leaves I’ll walk you out to take a seat. The books will be passed out during the commercial break so everyone in the audience has a copy.”

“Um, right, sure…”

I followed Sara to the edge of the set. I was twenty feet away from Chad, who was hugging Erin and shaking Dan’s hand to thank them for having him on. I felt as if I had lapsed into a dream. My head was swimming and my vision started to blur. For a moment, I thought I might faint, but I forced myself to pull it together. I held my breath and stood behind Sara, waiting, wondering if he would even recognize me as he walked past.

I heard the crowd clapping and peered around Sara’s shoulder. Chad was walking towards me, smiling at the audience, waving goodbye. At first, he just glanced my way, then stopped and did a double take, then stood staring at me with his mouth hanging open.

“Oh my god,” he said, holding out his hands. “I don’t believe it. Zoe? Zoe Maxwell? Holy shit. I tried to call you last night.”

“You did?” I was mumbling, having a hard time forming words. I put my hands in his and he pulled me in for a hug.

“Jesus, I’ve missed you,” he said, brushing his lips to my ear. Before I could say or do anything, Sara had put her hand on my arm.

“We have to get onset now,” she said forcefully.

“Uh, okay,” I stared into Chad’s eyes. “It’s great seeing you.”

“You, too,” he said, letting go and taking a step back. He glanced at the copy of Pleasing Him Sara was holding to give me onset. “Oh my god, you’re that Zoe Maxwell. The writer?”

“We have to go,” Sara said, tugging on me now.

“Okay, well, it was good to see you,” he said as I was dragged away. He held up a thumb and smiled. “Break a leg.”

Break a leg? Oh, don’t worry. I’d probably break a number of limbs as I stumbled blindly through this interview. Chad Walters. Chad Fucking Walters, in the flesh, as if he had stepped out of the pages of my book and back into my life. At least I hoped he was back in my life…

After Sara sat me on the couch and introduced me to the hosts, I looked back toward the curtain. Chad was gone. My heart sank. Then the lights came up and audience clapped and Barbie and Ken started the segment. The next few minutes were a blur because all I could think about was Chad, the man I pushed away.