Free The Publicist by Christina George Page A

from, he wondered. But Kate, as classy as she was, only smiled, patted his arm and said, “Thanks Mac, but no offense, you don’t count, you’re married.” And with that, Mac understood his place in her life. As long as he was connected to someone in marriage, he’d never be connected to Kate in any other way than a professional one. For the second time that night Mac wished like hell that he was single.

    Mac dropped Kate off at her apartment at one a.m. Her phone had been returned to her although Kate had already forgotten that he’d locked it in the trunk. The evening had been fun and while she hadn’t wanted it to end, Kate knew better than to close down the bar with him. But she’d seen another side to Mac that night, one she hadn’t expected. She assumed now from their conversation that the rumors were true. Mac was seeing other women. It’s likely that’s why he kept the apartment in the city. But the idea of Mac cheating on his wife didn’t disgust her as she expected it would. Whether it was the alcohol working its magic or her hormones ricocheting inside her body, she felt she almost understood him. He never said a negative word about his wife, which made him seem less deceitful somehow. “It didn’t work.” is what he had said, the why and how was still a mystery to her but at least she knew now what she was dealing with. Sort of. She still didn’t understand a lot of what MacDermott Ellis was about, but then, he was a mystery to most everyone else too. Mac let very little of his private life be known to anyone. He seldom talked about his boys and never talked about his wife.
    Kate watched the car speed away and disappear into traffic. For whatever reason, she didn’t want to go inside yet. Instead, she pulled her coat around her to keep away the chill of the cold night air. She tried to calm her mind as it retraced the evening, wondering if she’d gone too far with her questions. That’s when it hit her. The reason she couldn’t move inside, and why she stayed on the sidewalk and stared at the car that had long since been swallowed up in the late night traffic.
    Secretly, she hoped Mac would ask the driver to turn the sedan around.

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    Chapter Fourteen
    “I can’t believe that loser Bernie did that to you,” Grace said, dipping her tea bag into her cup. They met at Zoe’s Shack and Coffee House just about every Sunday morning, except when Kate was traveling or Grace had a painting to finish. It was an eclectic place in the Village. On Saturday nights they’d highlight a local artist, during the week they’d invite authors and poets in to do readings. Occasionally Kate would secure Zoe’s for a local author or someone traveling to the area but not too often because the publicity department frowned on signings in anything other than a chain store. At their Sunday morning meetings Grace always brought her own tea bags and just asked for a cup of hot water. Kate would watch the servers, some of them puzzled, hand her friend the steaming cup. Grace didn’t trust coffee house tea bags. Besides, she had a preference: Spiced Green Tea. There was only one place in New York she could get it and Grace was always well-stocked. Kate never drank tea; a large latte with an extra shot and always non-fat milk was her drink of choice.
    Kate sipped her coffee; it was just the jolt she needed to wake her up after spending a somewhat sleepless night tossing and turning. She didn’t dare tell Grace why she couldn’t sleep.
    “I was horrified, Gracie, I swear I didn’t know what I was going to do.”
    “So what happened?”
    Kate hesitated before she answered, “Mac showed up with the books.”
    Grace cocked her head, “Mac?” she said, letting his name hang in the air.
    “He saved the day, Grace. Thank God he found some copies or my head would have been on the chopping block. I’m just glad it’s over.”
    “And what did Mac want in return for saving the day?”
    Kate took another sip of her