The Woman Who Stole My Life (34 page)

‘No, you.’

‘No, you.’

‘Look, bitch, I’m letting you ahead of –’

As he was led away, he threw some pages at me. ‘It’s my book. Critique it! Call me!’

Perky Lady Nutter leaned too close and said gaily, ‘I’m going to take
you
for cocktails in a great bar I know, and you’re going to tell
me
your secret formula for writing a best-seller.’

‘That’s so nice of you,’ I said. ‘But I’ve got to be on a plane in about six hours to …’ Where the hell was it tomorrow? ‘San Diego,’ I said.

‘Oh yeah?’ She narrowed her eyes at me. ‘I bought your book! I recommended it to my friends. You bitch! All I’m asking for –’

‘Thank you.’ I stood up and smiled around blindly. ‘Thank you, you’ve all been lovely. Tucson, yes, lovely. All of you here, lovely. But I must go now.’

I grabbed an abandoned glass of wine from a table, downed it in one, took off my shoes and said, ‘Mannix, shall we?’

We got a taxi to our hotel, where I lay on the floor of our room in front of the minibar and poured M&Ms into my mouth and intoned over and over again, ‘Chocolate, chocolate, I fucking love chocolate.’

‘Ruben wants to talk to you.’ Mannix held the phone at me.

I widened my eyes and shook my head: I didn’t want to talk to Ruben. I’d got back from the book tour two days previously and had spent the entire time in bed, almost unable to speak.

‘It’s okay,’ Mannix said, quietly. ‘It’s good.’

I took the phone.

‘I have some incredible news,’ Ruben said, tantalizingly. ‘Are you ready? Okay!
One Blink at a Time
has charted. Number thirty-nine in the
New York Times
best-sellers. Meanwhile, Bryce needs to get you guys in for a post-tour debrief. We’ll see you Friday, at eleven. Bryce can take you for lunch afterwards.’

I lay back on the pillow, light-headed with relief.

Hot on the heels of Ruben’s call came a flurry of congratulations from six or seven of the vice-presidents.

Next to get in touch was Phyllis. ‘Number thirty-nine?’ she said. ‘My cats could get to number thirty-nine.’

Before the meeting, Gilda came to the apartment and blow-dried my hair – it turned out that as a teenager she’d had a Saturday job in a salon and had ‘picked up the basics’.

‘Is there anything you can’t do?’ I asked, as she twirled the brush through my hair.

She laughed. ‘My rocket science is a little spotty.’ Then she frowned. ‘You’re not planning to wear that dress?’

‘… Er, yes.’ It was a really pretty one from Anthropologie; Gilda had helped me choose it.

‘Not today,’ she said. ‘Sorry, Stella, but today you need to look tough.’ She began flipping through items in my wardrobe and brought out a sharply tailored suit. ‘Wear this,’ she said. ‘This is the right thing.’

‘Okay,’ I said.

At Blisset Renown, Mannix and I were herded to the boardroom table, where a small army of vice-presidents was waiting. I’d expected to see Phyllis – she’d been copied in on the emails – but there was no sign of her.

‘Welcome, everyone.’ Bryce strode into the room and took his place at the head of the table. ‘Let’s get going.’

It seemed we were starting without Phyllis.

‘Great work, everybody, on
One Blink at a Time
,’ Bryce said. ‘Special thanks to Ruben and his team for the excellent coverage he got. And, of course, we’re all thrilled that the book charted. So this is a good time to reflect and see where we are. We don’t yet have final numbers from Barnes & Noble and online retailers, but we have hard information from the independents and we can extrapolate from there. For that I’m going to hand over to our colleague, Vice-President of Sales, Thoreson Gribble.’

Thoreson, an enormous-chested man in a snow-white shirt, sent a blinding flash of teeth around the room. ‘So the book charted, which is terrific news. However, we didn’t get the optimal sales lift-off we would have preferred.’ He referred to his iPad. ‘We’re guessing the Annabeth Browning association scared folks away. But the signs are hopeful. For example, sixty-four copies sold in one independent in Boulder, Colorado, driven by a rave review on
WoowooForYou
.’

I realized I was holding my breath.

‘Vermont also showed strong sales,’ Thoreson said. ‘Maple Books in Burlington sold thirty-three copies in a single week, driven by a lone bookseller who describes herself as “passionate” about
One Blink at a Time
.’ Another blaze of Thoreson’s gnashers. ‘So high five for that –’

‘That’s great, Thoreson,’ Bryce interrupted smoothly. ‘Stella and Mannix, you guys can read the full report at your leisure. To summarize, this is a marathon not a sprint. We’ve had an encouraging start and the plan is to build aggressively on this solid foundation. Could we have seen more encouraging results from the first tour? Hell, yeah. But basically it’s all good.’

‘Thank you,’ I murmured, a little anxiously.

‘There are many pockets of support for you out there, so our math-whizz Bathsheba Radice’s cost-benefit algorithm indicates there’s value in two more tours.’

‘Okay, but –’ Mannix said.

‘Here’s the plan,’ Bryce said. ‘Another tour in July, when people are starting their vacations. Then we’ll go again mid-November, to catch the holiday-gifting market. By the start of the new year we’ll have had an avalanche of sales. Have your new book ready February first and we’ll publish July.’

He shoved his chair back and stood up. ‘Terrific to see you guys.’

He was leaving? I’d thought we were going for lunch.

I stumbled to my feet and Bryce was shaking my hand and patting my shoulder, already halfway out of the room. ‘Stay well, Stella.’

It was the middle of April and spring had arrived, seemingly overnight. The sun was shining, there was even a bit of heat in it. Mannix and I came home via Central Park, where
hundreds of Day-Glo yellow daffodils lined our route. Despite being bum-rushed by Bryce, it was impossible to not feel hopeful.

Back at the apartment, I texted Gilda to let her know I was home and ready for my daily run. Fifteen minutes later, she arrived at my front door.

‘So they didn’t take you for lunch?’ she asked.

‘No …’

‘Ah … Oookay. So! How’s your crazy agent? What did she steal today?’

‘She didn’t come.’

‘Wooah! She just left you hanging in an important meeting? She doesn’t do much for her ten per cent.’

Phyllis actually got thirteen per cent but I still felt I had to say, ‘She’s not the hand-holding type.’

‘Hey, none of my business. So, Stella, let’s get out there and speed up your metabolism!’

‘Be careful with her,’ Mannix said.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Gilda flicked her eyes upwards. ‘Precious cargo, I know.’

We went down in the elevator and stepped out into the sunshine.

‘He’s so nice to you,’ Gilda said.

‘Ah, you know, he … Ah, yeah, he is.’

‘Okay, get those arms pumping, get that heart beating.’

‘So are you … er … dating at the moment?’

It was strange, my relationship with Gilda. We were instinctively intimate, but, because I paid her, some boundaries had to be observed.

‘Kissing my frogs, kissing my frogs.’

‘You’ll meet some lovely man,’ I said, encouragingly.

‘Well, I’m sure as hell not putting up with some asshole.’
Her tone was clipped. ‘I’m holding out for a dreamy guy like Mannix.’

I’m holding out for a dreamy guy like Mannix
. Her words repeated in my head and – surprised and rattled – I turned to look at her. I’d always thought she was pretty but, unexpectedly, she appeared like a queen. A beautiful queen with the power to take Mannix away from me. My mouth fell open and I retreated from her.

She lurched towards me and grabbed my arm. Her eyes looked shocked and bright blue. ‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘That came out all wrong. I know what you’re thinking! But don’t think it!’

I didn’t need to speak; I knew my fear was all over my face.

‘Stella, you and me, we work together, but it’s more than that. We’re friends. I’m so loyal to you. I would
never
hurt you.’

I still couldn’t speak.

‘I’m not saying another girl’s guy is always off-limits.’ She spoke fast. ‘No matter how good a person you want to be, if there’s a spark, there’s a spark, right?’

I tried to nod, but I couldn’t.

‘If a guy’s relationship isn’t doing well and you feel you and him could have something going on, then … maybe I would. But even if I didn’t have this you–me loyalty thing, Mannix is crazy in love with you. I was just having a pity-party for poor little Gilda. I was jealous. Not of you having Mannix,’ she added quickly. ‘Just wishing I could stop meeting assholes and start meeting nice guys.’

‘Okay.’

We ran for three miles. But I still felt rattled.

As soon as I got home, I went straight to the living room.

‘Mannix?’

‘Ummm?’ He was transfixed by something on his screen.

‘Do you fancy Gilda?’

He turned to me. He looked surprised. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t fancy Gilda.’

‘But she’s young and beautiful.’

‘The world is full of young and beautiful women. What’s going on?’

‘A long time ago I asked if the last person you slept with before me was Georgie and you said no.’ I couldn’t
believe
I hadn’t pestered him about it since. ‘Who was she?’

He was silent for a while. ‘Just a girl. I met her at a party. Georgie and I had already split up and I was living in that apartment you loved so much. It was a one-night thing.’

I was so jealous I felt like throwing up. ‘“Just a girl”,’ I repeated. ‘That’s a respectful way to speak about a woman you had sex with.’

‘What would you like me to say? That she was a stunner, a twenty-four-year-old yoga instructor with massive boobs?’

I pounced. ‘Was she?’

‘I can’t win. Look, I don’t know what age she was. At the time, I was crippled with loneliness. And so was she, I’m guessing. I felt worse the next morning. And I think she did too.’

‘What was her name?’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’m not telling you because I don’t want you to obsess. I hate that you don’t trust me.’

‘I don’t trust you.’

‘Well,
I
trust me. And look at it this way – you let me share your home with your eighteen-year-old daughter. Clearly you trust me with her. Stella, I’m not throwing any stones, but you’re the one who left your husband for another man.’

‘Ryan and I had already split up.’ I stopped talking because I was lying. ‘Do you think Gilda acts flirty with you?’

‘She’s flirty with everyone. It’s her … thing … you know, her modus operandi, her way of getting through the world.’

‘I know what modus operandi means.’

He laughed. ‘I know you do. Here’s how it is: I was with Georgie for a long time and I didn’t cheat. Things got messy at the end and both of us did stuff we’re not proud of. I’m not perfect, Stella. I’ve made mistakes …’

I stared at him and he stared back at me and I had no idea what he was thinking. At times I found him impossible to read, like I didn’t know him at all.

‘We need to talk,’ he said.

My heart started beating faster.

‘It’s good news,’ he added, quickly.

‘Oh?’

‘
One Blink at a Time
is number four in the Irish best-sellers list.’

‘What?’ I was extremely surprised. ‘How?’

‘It was published last week. A lot of the articles you’ve written for publication here have made their way there. Even that one for
Ladies Day
.’

‘Really? Well, great.’ This was fantastic to hear, but my mood was a few seconds behind the facts.

‘They’ve invited you on a publicity trip next month, but you’re wrecked. On the other hand, you’d get to visit home and see everyone, and there wouldn’t be any stress about who we stay with because Harp would pay for a hotel.’

‘What sort of hotel?’ I was dubious. We’d stayed in more than our share of grim, soundproof-free lodgings on the Blisset Renown tour.

‘Any hotel we like.’

‘The Merrion?’ I gasped. ‘They’d pay for the Merrion? Oh my God. Say yes.’

He laughed. ‘And the schedule from Harp? They’re asking
for less work in a week than Blisset Renown did in a day. They want just one TV appearance – on
Saturday Night In
.’

‘Could I get on it?’

‘They’d kill to have you,’ Mannix said. ‘I’ve had a deluge of emails from them.’

‘Could Dad meet Maurice McNice?’

‘I didn’t know he liked him.’

‘Oh he doesn’t, he hates him. But he’d love a chance to tell him. Keep talking.’

‘Harp want just one press interview and one book-signing.’

‘And that’s it?’

‘There’s one other thing … Lots of the radio stations are looking for an interview. But, as a favour to me, I’m asking if you’d go on Ned Mount.’

Ned Mount had been a rock star before he’d been a broadcaster – he’d been in a band called the Big Event – and everyone loved him.

‘I’d … ah … you know, like to meet him …’ Mannix said.

‘You would? Well, grand.’ I was distracted by my phone ringing. ‘It’s Ryan. I’d better answer it. Hey there, Ryan.’

‘Hey there, Life Stealer.’

I sighed. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I hear you’re coming to Ireland to publicize your joke of a book.’

‘How do you know? Nothing is agreed –’

‘There’s something you can do for me, Stella – arrange for me to meet Ned Mount. Seeing that you’ve taken my entire life, you can consider this a small reparation, a chance to salve your conscience just a smidge.’

‘Okay.’

As soon as I disconnected, my phone rang again. ‘Karen?’

‘You’re coming to Ireland? Nice that I discover it on the radio.’

‘It’s not even decided!’

‘Whatevs. That’s not why I’m ringing. Something weird’s after happening. You know Enda Mulreid?’

‘Your husband? Er … I do.’ I mouthed, ‘WTF?’ at Mannix.

‘He wants to talk to you. The next voice you hear will be his.’

After some crackling and throat-clearing, Enda Mulreid’s voice came on the line. ‘Hello, Stella.’

‘Hi, Enda.’

‘Stella, this doesn’t sit well with me but I am asking a favour from you.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. Well,
indeed
you might say “oh” in an interrogatory fashion. I am behaving extremely out of character and you are, doubtless, surprised. My request is this: if you’re going on the Ned Mount show, may I accompany you? I’m a “long-term” fan. The Big Event was the “soundtrack” to my “youth”. However, it is necessary to state that I could never repay the favour by dint of my position in An Garda Síochána. To give an example, if you got caught breaking the speed limit, I could not intervene to quash the charge. You would simply have to “suck it up”.’

‘Enda, if I’m going on Ned Mount, and it’s okay with him, you’re welcome to come and there will be no expectation of anything in return.’

‘Perhaps I could get you a gift set from the Body Shop?’

‘No need, Enda, no need.’

I hung up and said to Mannix, ‘The Ned Mount show? We’re going to have to hire a bus.’