Waterfalls (23 page)

“I think we’ve got it, Jake,” the stagehand said. “Try this.”

Jake reached for the ice-cream scoop in the center of the bowl and scooped out a mound of the mysterious mixture. He plopped it onto an ice-cream cone the man held in his other hand. Jake looked at it this way and that. He touched the glob and then nodded in satisfaction.

“That’s it. Good job, Miguel. Keep it in the refrigerator, and write down your recipe. We don’t want to forget the proportions this time.”

“Got it,” Miguel said, leaving with his big bowl of white fluff.

“He’s not the caterer, is he?” Meredith asked.

“No.” Jake laughed. “He’s our prop man. That was our chocolate-chip-ice-cream cone for the opening scene.”

“Ice cream?”

“It’s actually instant mashed potatoes with shavings of black crayon for the chips. Real ice cream melts under these hot lights. Everyone knows you use instant mashed potatoes on screen for ice cream, but we couldn’t get the chocolate chip shavings to look right.”

“Very clever,” Meredith said.

Jake looked at her and smiled proudly. “Not everything around here is what it appears to be.”

“So I’m beginning to discover,” she said.

S
he wasn’t mad at Jake, she decided, as Chad drove her through the miserable traffic to the writers conference. It wasn’t Jake’s fault she had built up unrealistic expectations. He had never indicated that this meeting would be anything other than business. He hadn’t purposely failed to be what she had envisioned. It was just so frustrating.

She had stuck around for lunch but only long enough to eat some taco salad and listen to the not-so-interesting conversations of the stagehands who shared the outdoor picnic table with her. Jake was too busy to eat and had waved good-bye when she let Chad know she was ready to leave.

Now she wasn’t looking forward to seeing Jake for their cheesecake date. The invitation had felt much more promising and romantic when he had extended it over the phone. But this trip to the studio had burst all kinds of bubbles.

Once she had settled into her hotel room with the conference agenda before her, Meri realized how busy she was going
to be these next three days. Besides the two workshops she was teaching, she was expected to read a stack of manuscripts that had been presented to her when she checked in. Reading the manuscripts alone would take her three days! Then conferees had made appointments to meet with her for fifteen-minute segments starting this evening after the opening session.

The only comfort Meri found as she studied the schedule was that she was free Tuesday night. That meant she could sneak off for cheesecake with Jake, even though the free time was probably designed for reading manuscripts.

Her phone rang, and she caught it on the second ring. It was an editor she had met a year ago. The two of them chatted, and then Paula got to the point of the call. “I’m in charge of the opening skit tonight, but my ditz hasn’t arrived. Her plane was rerouted or something. Would you consider playing the dumb blond?”

“I’m supposed to be flattered by this offer?” Meredith laughed.

“You remember this skit,” Paula said. “We did it at the last conference. You were such a good airhead. I know you can jump right into the part again. Will you, please? I’m desperate.”

“Is this type casting or what?” Meri muttered. “Okay. Where do I have to be and when?”

“Downstairs, main meeting room, in fifteen minutes for practice.”

“Fifteen minutes!”

“Yes, we only have an hour and a half before the opening meeting, and we have to grab some dinner before then.”

Meredith cleaned up and headed for the elevator with her official name badge pinned to her flax-colored blazer that she now wore over her black mock turtleneck and jeans. She had rolled up the sleeves and given her brushed hair a squirt of perfume to freshen herself up.

“Why did I agree to do this?” she muttered. The elevator took her to the first floor, where she met her business associates and fellow actors in the main meeting room.

“Here’s our lifesaver!” Paula announced when Meredith walked in. “Somebody give her the script. Let’s get going.”

They only practiced twenty minutes or so. It was a silly sketch about an editor meeting with different conferees and how each of them used the appointed fifteen minutes. It was intended as a spoof to show first-time conferees how to make good use of their appointments.

Meri remembered how it had gone at a previous conference and knew that all she had to do was pretend to be chewing gum, look starry eyed when the editor asked intelligent questions, and end with, “You mean you’re in charge of
books?!
I thought you were in charge of
looks
. I signed up for the Patty Fay Beauty Makeover Convention. Am I in the wrong room?”

All she had to do then was to rush offstage in search of the Patty Fay group. It was silly, but it put the nervous conferees at ease, especially since all the roles were played by editors.

Meredith ate dinner in the coffee shop with her editor friends from the skit and laughed about some of the inside jokes of the industry. One publisher had released a book with the title misspelled. The
e
and
i
were transposed in the word
weird
. From the limited number of people who wrote to call attention to the misspelling, the publisher guessed most of America didn’t know how to spell
weird
.

Paula confided that she was thinking of changing positions if any of them heard of an opening at another large house. She had been acquiring cookbooks for five years, but the publisher was cutting back to only two cookbooks a year. Now Paula reviewed science fiction manuscripts, which rolled in at an
average of three hundred manuscripts per month. It wasn’t her idea of a good time.

One of the men asked Meri if she had any hot new products coming out. She didn’t mention the Young Heart series because the signed paperwork hadn’t been delivered to her files yet. Helen had said that all the contractual details were agreed on, but Meredith knew better than to brag about projects prematurely.

“I’ll tell you what I have,” she said to the others around the table. “I have way more manuscripts than I can ever wade through at this conference. Did they load you guys up, too?”

“Are you kidding?” Paula said. “As soon as they found out I’d consider looking at sci-fi, my pile tripled. If I never had to read about another big-eyed alien who lives on grasshopper blood and mango pits, I would be a happy woman.”

“Mango pits? Grasshopper blood?” one of the other women questioned.

“You have no idea,” Paula said, shaking her head. “That’s why I want to go back to cookbooks where grasshoppers mean minty green beverages and mango pits go in the garbage can when making tropical fruit salad.”

The editors wrapped up their enjoyable conversation and moved back to the meeting room, where they sat toward the front. The conference started at seven, and after the opening remarks and announcements, the workshop leaders were asked to come to the stage and give a two-minute description of their sessions. Close to eight hundred aspiring writers had registered for this conference, which had enlisted more than fifty instructors to teach workshops. Meredith was trying to calculate how long this was going to take since their skit was the last item on the agenda.

Sliding out and making her way to the stage, she heard a slight rumbling sound throughout the auditorium. She turned
to see the object of the audience’s interest. Jake was walking down the center aisle, his head down slightly, that boyish, embarrassed look on his face.

I didn’t think he would come after the full schedule he had today. I wonder if he’s noticed me
.

When Meredith reached the stage, it appeared that Jake had noticed her, all right. He came over and stood next to her in line. It was a suave move. To the casual observer, his choice made sense because there was more room next to Meredith than at the end of the line, where the others from the center aisle were heading. But Meri wanted to believe his action was deliberate.

They stood side by side, neither acknowledging the other. Meredith looked out at the room of hopeful writers and felt it safe to say that nearly every eye was on Jake. At least every female eye, and that accounted for more than eighty percent of the conferees.

“If all the workshop leaders could please scoot down a bit more, we can get everyone on the stage. After you give a presentation of your workshop, please sit down,” the master of ceremonies said. “And please remember, no more than two minutes. Please!”

As everyone shuffled to the left, Meredith felt the hairs on Jake’s arm as they gently brushed against her arm.

Did he notice that? It was like electricity! Is it me, or is it static in the air? This is too much. I have to say something
.

“I never told you,” Meri said quietly without turning to look at Jake. “I got your grape. Very creative.”

“You liked that, huh?” he whispered back, leaning just close enough for her to smell the cocoa-butter scent of his skin.

Meredith smiled to the sea of faces in front of them and in a low voice said, “What do you think you are? The grape fairy?”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest.

“You could write that into Young Heart as a new character. All the good souls find a grape on their pillow at the end of their journey, but the bad souls find a dried-out raisin.”

Jake covered his mouth and camouflaged his laugh with a cough.

As the line moved along, Jake moved closer to Meredith. Was it her imagination? Or was he pressing his upper arm against her shoulder? The sensation of his touch was so slight and thoroughly justified that it made it hard to know if she should read anything into the gesture. The woman next to Meredith stepped to the podium and used a total of thirty seconds to describe her workshop on learning how to prepare a query letter.

Meredith was next. She reluctantly stepped away from Jake’s closeness and walked up to the microphone. “I’m Meredith Graham, and I’m representing G. H. Terrison Publishing. I’m an acquisitions editor of children’s books. We’re always looking for bright new ideas and manuscripts that are well written. My first workshop tomorrow afternoon is entitled ‘Getting Your Foot in the Door.’ I’ll be telling you what to do and what not to do when you’re trying to get an editor’s attention. My second workshop on Wednesday morning is called ‘Learning from Your Mistakes.’ I’ll be showing you how to take a returned manuscript and fix it so you can resubmit it. Thank you.”

The obligatory round of applause followed Meri as she walked down the three steps from the stage to return to her seat. She glanced at the audience and wondered if it was her imagination or if everyone had suddenly perked up and leaned forward.

Jake’s voice rolled through the speakers and surrounded the eager listeners. “Good evening. My name is Jacob Wilde.” A cluster of young women in the far-right corner of the room
immediately began to clap, whistle, and stomp their feet.

When the ruckus died down, Jake continued his presentation. “I’m teaching a workshop on Wednesday morning entitled ‘The Basics of Writing a Screenplay.’ I’m currently involved in producing a video based on a screenplay I wrote. I look forward to seeing some of you in my workshop.”

A murmur of admiration rumbled through the crowd as Jake stepped down. Instead of returning to wherever he had been sitting before, he came over to Meredith and, with a smile, asked quietly, “Mind if I sit with you?”

All the seats in her row were empty at the moment since her friends were still up on the stage. Without a word, Meredith motioned for him to sit. She was aware of the stares of everyone in the auditorium. Jake looked as if he was pretending to pay attention to the workshop leader who was standing at the podium.

When only three people were left to make their speeches, Jake leaned over and whispered to Meredith, “Would you do me a huge favor and walk out of here with me after the last person is finished?”

“I can’t. I have to stay. I’m in a skit,” she whispered back.

Jake thought a moment and then whispered, “As soon as the skit is over, would you mind if we walked out together with our arms around each other?”

Meredith turned and looked into his cocoa brown eyes. He was only inches away, and she felt all her chemical reactions happening at once. Her heart stopped, her spine tingled, and her breath disappeared. She asked, “Why?”

His eyes looked at her, pleading. “It’s for cover. If they think I’m with someone, they aren’t as forceful about cornering me.”

Meredith gave him a perplexed look, still not understanding why he would ask her to be his bodyguard.

“I admit it,” Jake said out of the corner of his mouth. “I’m a coward. You can make fun of me later, but just say you’ll protect me.”

Meredith laughed softly. “You big baby.”

“Is that a yes?”

She nodded.

A few minutes later the skit was announced. Meredith rose to join the others onstage, and Jake grasped her wrist. He gave it a squeeze as she slid past him. She turned to look at him, surprised by his gesture. “Don’t forget about me,” he said. The look in his eyes was genuine fear.