Okay, he was a client. She had to go if only to be courteous and follow protocol, and that’s what she would do. Be polite, cool and businesslike. Nothing more. Problem solved.
Tabitha guessed she couldn’t really fault Eric for this latest event. It was a surprise party, something he was unaware of.
But she was sure he would not fail to take advantage of it to its fullest extent once he saw her at his loft among the other revelers.
Come to think of it, how were they going to swing giving him a surprise party at his own house without Eric knowing anything about it?
Tabitha wondered about it for a hot second before she shook her head with all the scenarios and possibilities. She finally came to the conclusion that Angela had everything under control; she seemed like the organized type to run a tight ship. She just knew
she
didn’t want to be in the woman’s shoes trying to surprise someone as sharp and slick as Eric.
Tabitha sighed now as she put her key in the lock, simultaneously dreading and anticipating the coming party though it was weeks away, already wondering what would be the perfect gift. Something not too intimate, but something unique, and that he probably wouldn’t buy for himself. Could be clothes because he definitely didn’t shop for those for himself, and she had such fun when she did it.
At least she had time to mentally prepare herself for the attack her emotions were sure to undergo surrounded by the Vega clan and seeing Eric in so personal an environment. A few weeks of time and habitual solitude enjoying a romance or two on cable with Vogue, munching popcorn, pigging out on Haagen Dazs and…
Tabitha froze when someone rose up from the shadows behind her as she slid her key out of the lock. She pivoted quickly, one hand grabbing her chest the other pointing 85
Gracie C. McKeever
her keys outward like a weapon before she recognized the tall, brown-skinned figure coming towards her.
“Hey Tabby-Cat.”
“Damn it, Frankie! You scared the hell out of me.” She punched her foster brother on the shoulder as he came closer and grabbed her in a bear hug.
“It’s been a while,” he said as he released her.
“Through no fault of mine.”
“Are you going to invite me in?”
“Just like a man. Come and go as you please and just expect everything to be the same upon your return no matter how long you stay away.”
“I love you too.”
Tabitha glared at him, but couldn’t hold it for too long when he smiled at her with those enviable pearly whites.
She reached up to ruffle his big curly Afro. “Either braid it or get dreads.”
“You don’t like my retro hair?”
“I like it fine. Just don’t be surprised when you wake up in the morning and find most of it next to you on the pillow.”
His eyebrows popped up, and he looked uncertain of Tabitha and his ability to charm for the first time since he arrived.
She burst out laughing at his shocked expression, turned to open her door.
When he didn’t follow her in, she turned around with a devilish grin. “Change your mind about dropping by?”
“You don’t scare me.”
It seemed to be going around, the rumor that her bark was worse than her bite.
Time to teach the men in her life a few lessons about her canines.
86
Beneath the Surface
New York Times Bestseller.
It was an achievement he’d dreamed about, distantly, but not an achievement he thought he’d reach until perhaps his third or fourth book. Not on his first. Not with the book of his heart.
But there it was in black and white. Number three on the list and quickly climbing, according to Jodie.
He vaguely remembered her mentioning he had entered the list in the number twenty slot, but hadn’t been paying that much attention, being so on the go these last few weeks. Now he couldn’t not pay attention.
“EJ, are you still there?”
Distantly he heard Jodie mention other newspapers and bestseller lists—
Publisher’s Weekly, USA Today,
Independent Bestseller List, Amazon.com…
“I’m still here.”
“Are you looking at the other papers I told you about?”
EJ flipped through the papers she’d indicated, saw
Reaching Out
listed in various positions at or near the top ten on the
Los Angeles Times
and
The San Francisco
Chronicle
bestseller list.
“East and West Coast baby. You’re in there!”
The book signings, and especially the round of radio and TV interviews that Jodie had set up, had no doubt been more successful than he could have predicted in getting his name and his title
out there. Fourteen cities in fourteen days, chain stores and cozy independents throughout the west and southwest, and he still had seven more cities to hit in the south, a week to go before he headed home for Thanksgiving.
“I couldn’t have gotten all this exposure without you, Jodie.”
87
Gracie C. McKeever
“Oh, please.
I
couldn’t have exposed you without something to work with.
Remember, I read your book. So it wasn’t a hard sell.”
Her sentiments seemed to sum up the general consensus. Everyone, including his and Sinclair’s family, had loved the book. The reviews so far were all positive, most glowing, lauding his “unique voice” and the innovative fiction/non-fiction hybrid framework of the book.
He should have been more than ecstatic.
“Sinclair would be proud,” Jodie said as if reading his mind, her voice low and solemn, a big change from her normally bubbly and bright tone.
Her words jolted him until he remembered his dedication in the front of the book and the acknowledgement in the back. Seems people really did read and pay attention to all that official and personal stuff authors wrote in their books in addition to the story.
Not a signing went by when at least one person didn’t come up to him and express his or her sincere gratitude for how he’d handled a somber subject in such an optimistic, even humorous and realistic light.
Today Leslie Rubin, a Ph.D., member of American Association of Suicidology, and contact person for the Survivors of Suicide support group in Colorado had come up to him and asked if he’d present at her group’s annual fundraising dinner.
As Tabitha had predicted, he’d received numerous invites like this—engagements to speak at writers’ conferences, conventions, workshops, suicide prevention functions.
The latter touched him the deepest, had him wanting to ring Tabitha to tell her that her calculations had been on point. He felt as if she, more than anyone else he knew, would understand the significance.
He had, in fact, almost called her before he’d gotten Jodie’s call, but chickened out at the last minute, and resolved to call her this evening after his signing at BookPeople, a locally owned, fiercely independent book seller.
He’d actually signed at the location the day before but decided to squeeze in another day when he’d been unable to accommodate all the customers who’d wanted a signed book, and the owner, who promoted local and new authors alike, had asked him to return.
EJ loved the cozy atmosphere of the store, a three-story, white brick place with long, ceiling-high windows on each floor overlooking the corner of Sixth Street and Lamar Boulevard in Austin Texas. Inside customers could find titles from obscure new age books to the latest
New York Times
bestsellers.
Readers seemed to get pleasantly lost in the labyrinth of shelves, and more often then not were drawn to all manner of the comfy and creative seating from wingback to barber’s chair, needless incentive for true book lovers to stay awhile and get their fill.
The place was his kind of homey, catered to customers and encouraged browsing.
Which reminded him. “Jodie, did you send that woman over to me today? She said she was a member of AAS?”
88
Beneath the Surface
“Dr. Rubin. Uh, shouldn’t I have?”
“I was just curious as to why you didn’t set up an appointment with her like you did with all the other requestors?” He felt her shrug between his question and the long pause that preceded her answer, tempted to slide his shields down even more than they were already before he decided against it.
“I just thought you needed to meet and speak to that one face-to-face, let her tell you her story for herself. She sounded so sincere and eloquent.”
She had been both, so much so that EJ had agreed to speak at her function without considering any of his other appointments. Luckily, it didn’t conflict with any other engagements that Jodie had set up for him. It just fell pretty damn close to Thanksgiving and would have him flying out of town right after the holiday weekend. Not that he wouldn’t have been on the go again to pick up with his book signing tour anyway. He couldn’t have said no, especially when he knew, and Leslie had reiterated, the importance of reaching out, “No pun intended, Mr. Vega” to the masses during this high-risk time of year.
“So, did I do okay?”
“You did more than okay. I’m speaking on November 30th. I’ll send you all the information as soon as Leslie sends me the brochure.”
“Gee, that’s cutting it close with all the other engagements you have coming around that time. You’ll barely have time to spend with your family for Thanksgiving before you’re off and running again.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“You’d better be and take care of yourself, now. You’re my favorite client.”
EJ smiled, took the next words out of Jodie’s mouth and said, “I’m you’re only client.”
She laughed. “I’m going to let you go now to bask in the glory of your feat.”
EJ chuckled, signed off and as soon as he hung up from Jodie, the calls started to come in fast and furious.
First his agent Sal called to congratulate him, then his editor, John Chandler, who’d actually called him twice before and left messages, but EJ just hadn’t had a chance to call him back before Jodie’s call.
Chandler shared in EJ’s pleasure, as excited as Jodie and Sal had been before him, then quickly got to the heart of his call: how the work-in-progress was coming along.
EJ wished he had better news to share, but considering his schedule, he was lucky he’d gotten as many chapters done as he had.
He was more than halfway through his current, had an outline for his third and had been jotting down notes for an idea for his fourth. He gave his editor all this promising news before he signed off with Chandler telling him to keep up the good work and doing whatever he was doing on his tour to keep
Reaching Out
at the top.
89
Gracie C. McKeever
“I’ll see you when you’re back in town. Maybe by then you’ll have more of that work-in-progress finished?”
As soon as he hung up with his editor the calls from his family started to trickle in, first from Emilia shouting out on a rare break from her job at Macy’s. She only had a minute, but wanted to get in her congrats and say how proud she was. Next Nick called to congratulate his “baby brother,” and tell him no way was he getting back any of his suits no matter how much he begged. Donna called a few minutes after EJ got off with Nick, then Evelyn and his parents soon after that, all congratulating him and saying how proud of him they were.
Finally, Angela phoned, as if she’d gauged her call for maximum effect, free to talk to EJ as long as she could without too much threat of being interrupted by any other family members.
EJ tried to cut her short after general how-do-you-do’s, congratulations, and right before she would have gotten into his non-existent relationship with Tabitha. Except Angela brought him up short before he could disconnect when she said, “You know Jade’s no good for you, EJ.”
“Oh, hell, Angie. Will you quit showing off!”
“How else am I supposed to let you know I know about your little dish on the side? You won’t introduce her to the family. I’m sure there’s a reason for it.”
“There is. I don’t want the family in my business.”
“Think about what I’ve said.”
“I always do.” EJ glanced at his watch. “Angie, I really have to get out of here.
I’ve got to be at the bookstore—”
“Okay, okay, get going. I’ll talk to you when you’re back in town.”
“All right. Bye!” He had all these people who were going to talk to him when he
“got back in town” and not one of them was the person he really wanted to speak to.
* * * *
He got right to work, greeting people, signing inside covers as instructed, chatting with customers and giving out advice to a handful of fledgling writers.
At seven he broke for delicious homemade Texas fare, the store owners graciously providing dinner, before he circulated through the store and socialized with the customers, but especially the staff, whose recommendation cards sprouted irrepressibly on every shelf, exhibiting the employees’ knowledge of genre, and fanaticism for their favorites.
By eight-thirty, the lines had started to dwindle and so had the supply of
Reaching
Out
on the shelves.
90
Beneath the Surface
EJ spent the last few minutes before his departure at nine signing the three copies that had been left on the shelf, and promising that he’d visit again when his next book came out if not sooner for another signing with
Reaching Out
.
He drove back to the hotel in record time, hopped in the shower then into a pair of boxers and comfortable jeans before settling down beside the phone to make his call.
Now that he was this close to speaking to her, he was nervous. He didn’t know what it was, but he got a kick out of Tabitha trying to keep herself in line around him while she tried to put him in his place. He liked experiencing her in action.
He dialed the number. It didn’t register that it was an hour later east coast time than the eleven o’clock he noticed on the hotel’s bedside clock until Tabitha had picked up the line, only thankful that he wasn’t in California or she really might have given him an earful.