CHAPTER TWO
Paige tapped her foot impatiently as her publicist painstakingly reviewed the document in front of her. It was a schedule of upcoming interviews, appearances, parties, and award shows she was expected to attend and the mere thought of all those people staring at her was already raising her blood pressure and making the back of her neck sweat. She didn’t like being the center of attention.
Call her an introvert. Call it social anxiety. Call her stuck up and shy. Paige didn’t care what label was slapped on her as long as she was left alone to do what she wanted to do. Shunning an active social life had turned her into one of the most prolific authors on the bestseller lists. A fact she was quite proud of. She was living her dream.
Her life was beginning to become slightly surreal. In her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined sitting in the posh New York City offices of an entertainment publicist talking about raising her profile and selling more books.
“Paige, are you listening to me?”
Oops. Not really.
Helen Bailey was one of the best in the business. Paige knew she was lucky to have the older woman in her corner but that didn’t mean she also had to be thrilled by everything that was suggested. She could be around people when she had to be. But dammit, it was exhausting to be “on” all the time.
To be her. Paige Mitchell. Famous author.
Sighing, she shook her head in defeat. “Actually I think you lost me a few events back. Do I really need to attend all of these, Helen? I have a huge production schedule planned for the next eighteen months and all these events are going to put a crimp in that. The fans are screaming for new books faster than I can write them. A few days ago my dry cleaner spent fifteen minutes telling me what should happen in my next book and how I needed to write it.”
Helen gave her a sympathetic look. “I know you think all of this won’t make a difference but I promise you it will. Hollywood wants your stories and you want creative control. You need the fans screaming for those stories so the studios don’t have any choice but to give you what you want. This is the way to make that happen.”
Paige grimaced as she perused the multi-page schedule. “Whatever happened to just writing a damn good book?”
“It was never like that, my dear. Writers have always needed publicity and marketing. You’re just seeing how the sausage is made, so to speak. It’s not pretty but it is necessary.”
“Maybe I should just take their money and give them the books. Walk away and let them do whatever they want. It might be easier.”
Helen laughed and shook her head. “Ask Stephen King what he thinks about that.”
“Stephen isn’t taking my calls,” Paige smirked.
“You follow my plan and I guarantee that within two years Stephen King is going to ask to meet you.”
Laughter bubbled from Paige’s lips. “Right. Like that will ever happen. Well, as long as I’m dreaming I’d like to meet J.K. Rowling as well. Might as well swing for the fences.”
Looking down at the neatly laid out schedule, Paige’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. Could she really do this? Could she pull it off?
“Helen, I’m not sure I’m up to this. I don’t see other authors running around to movie premieres and parties. I don’t see them doing a lot of interviews and magazine covers. Why would anyone be interested in me? I’m a middle-aged widow with a teenage son. I like to read, eat chocolate, and binge watch cooking shows. I’m not exciting or glamorous.”
Helen smiled and tapped her chin as she sat back in her chair. “I’m going to tell you the truth, Paige, because I think you deserve it. There were a few reasons I agreed to take you on as a client. One of them was that I love your books. You’re a great writer. The second is that the minute I met you, I adored you. You’re funny and smart. You make people feel at ease and you think quickly on your feet. You’re very attractive and personable, and people like to buy books from pretty, happy people. If you’d been a depressed alcoholic with two noses and three eyes, I would have declined the opportunity. Does that confession bother you?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied slowly. “But it still doesn’t help me at all these functions. There’s nothing special about me.”
Snorting, Helen rolled her eyes. “You’re a lovely woman inside and out, Paige. People are drawn to you because you are also smart and funny along with a dose of down to earth. But I know that you’re concerned about this schedule. Which brings me to my next agenda item. There’s been an offer.”
“An offer?” Paige frowned. “Shouldn’t they contact my agent?”
“Not that kind of offer. It’s a publicity arrangement. Are you interested?”
“I don’t know enough of what that is to say yes or no.”
Helen rubbed her chin, her expression neutral. “A friend of mine who is also a publicist is aware that you are my client. They’ve made an offer that I think you should consider. It would be of benefit for you and for his client as well.”
Paige was more confused than ever. “What’s the offer?”
“A relationship for publicity between you and his client.”
Paige’s brows pinched together. “What kind of relationship? You mean like a writing partner? I work alone, Helen.”
“Not that sort of relationship. A personal relationship for the cameras. You go out together all sorts of places, get your picture taken together, and snag some much needed press for yourself. The public loves a love story. Celebrities are more interesting when they’re a couple.”
She was beginning to see. Maybe. But surely not?
“Carrie mentioned something like this to me earlier today. She used the word showmance.”
Nodding, Helen scooped up the papers on the desk. “That’s it exactly. You and he would pretend to be a couple. You’d go to parties together, walk red carpets, basically be seen as a couple in love.”
“I’ll tell you what I told Carrie. That sounds crazy. Why would anyone go to all that trouble? No, absolutely not.”
Helen sighed and pointed to the sheaf of papers. “Don’t discard this out of hand. Think about it. Think about having someone help you through all of these social engagements. Someone who knows the ropes. Having a strong arm walk you down the red carpet and helping you when you want to hide in the limo. Think about having someone on your side when it all feels like too much. That’s what they’re offering and frankly I think you should seriously consider it. Or you can go it alone. It’s up to you.”
“I’m fine with the way things are.”
“No, you’re comfortable with how things are. You’re so comfortable you’re stagnating. I can’t help you unless you help yourself. You need to think about what you’re willing to do to get this movie made.” She held up the schedule. “You’re going to have to put yourself out there. You’re going to have to admit that you’re ambitious and that you want this. Think about how hard you had to work to get your first bestselling novel. You’re going to have to work ten times as hard or more to get your first movie deal on your terms.”
Paige groaned. She wanted this movie made so much she was dreaming about it at night.
“You’re killing me here. If I didn’t want it I wouldn’t be agreeing to all these personal appearances. You know how much I want this.”
Helen sat back in her chair and smiled. “Then meet him. Just one meeting. Talk to him. See if he’s someone you could spend time with. If the answer is no, I’ll drop this whole subject. But it might be yes. One meeting, Paige.”
Wavering back and forth, she contemplated Helen’s words. Paige had worked damn hard to get where she was and she’d been warned this movie deal wasn’t going to be easy. She’d learned a long time ago that if she wanted something she had to be willing to do the things no one else wanted to do.
In the past, that had been working twelve to sixteen hours a day, seven days a week, even vacations and holidays. She’d worked harder, longer, and smarter and it had paid off.
Surrender wasn’t her forte but she tried to be gracious. “One meeting. One hour. Just who is this man anyway?”
Did he even know what he was getting into? She was no day at the beach.
Helen smiled. “You’ll love him. All the ladies do. It’s Nate Mason.”