Writing a Wrong (6 page)

He chuckled, patting my hand that gripped the center console for dear life. "Don't be afraid. I've got plenty of experience at this. Plus, this baby is built like a tank." He patted the steering wheel reassuringly.

"That's great, but I have a thing about accidents, and bridges, by the way. So understand—you are killing me right now." Bridges under normal circumstances freaked me out. Combine them with New York traffic and I was in hell. I suddenly felt a twinge of homesickness thinking of Alec. If he were here, we'd have a laugh while he teased me about my long list of phobias.

Chapter 7

Miraculously we made it to the hotel in one piece, which led me to believe there might actually be a god, considering my nonstop prayers during the drive.

Greg took care of my luggage and checked me in since the publisher was footing the bill for the hotel. Travel, lodging, food, and now an assistant, all covered. I would have to be careful not to let this rock star treatment go to my head. That being said, it was hard not to get excited when your every whim was being catered to. It was a surreal experience.

When I reached my room, I was shocked to discover they had put me in a beautiful suite. A basket of delicacies from my editor and a bouquet of flowers from my agent greeted me on the coffee table in a small sitting area. "Don't let it go to your head," I silently chanted, taking in my surroundings.

Greg made sure I had everything I needed before promising to return the next morning to take me to my appearance on Good Morning America. I shut the door and twirled around in my suite, laughing when I spotted a bucket with a bottle of champagne chilling in the corner. This was crazy. Wait until Olivia got a look at all of this.

I kicked off my shoes, sinking into a leather chaise lounge that sat strategically near a large window that framed a picturesque view of Manhattan. It was breathtaking. Pulling out my cell phone, I dialed Alec's number, hoping to catch him between classes.

He picked up before the phone could finish its first ring. "How was your flight, beautiful?" he asked in his normal sexy voice.

I curled my legs underneath me, peering out the window. "It was great," I answered enthusiastically. As I talked with Alec, I watched the endless amount of activity going on in the far city below. From my vantage point, everything was so small it was like watching a scene inside a snow globe.

"Really?" He sounded surprised, knowing the hate/hate relationship I had with flying.

"Actually, yeah. At first I thought it was going to be awful. OIA was a nightmare this morning with endless lines and grumpy people, but then something magical happened. I got to fly first class," I bragged. "I may never be able to fly coach again," I joked. "How are your classes today?"

He sighed. "Torturous. Sometimes these professors act like they don't want any of us to become doctors. Remind me again why I'm doing this."

"Because you want to help people. I wish you were here though. This suite is amazing. I'm sure the hotel made some kind of mistake and put me in the wrong room, but they'd have to drag me away now. Remi sent over a basket of goodies and champagne, and even Jillian sent a big bouquet of flowers. It's almost like I'm somebody."

"Eventually you're going to realize you are somebody, babe. You're getting the treatment you deserve. I wish I could be there to share it with you. I'm stuck all by my lonesome with a cat that is probably plotting my death."

"Severus isn't plotting your death. He's just making sure you don't forget about him. Do you have any plans tonight?"

"I was going to take advantage of having the night off from work and chill at home, but Candace took pity on me and invited me over for dinner with her and Lily."

Candace invited him for dinner. That seemed odd considering she had never invited him over while I was in town. Candace and Alec had an amicable relationship, but usually their interaction centered on Lily. Not inviting him over for dinner.

Alec chimed in again when I didn't respond right away. "Babe, are you cool with that?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. I'm sorry. You broke up for a second. You said you're having dinner with Lily and Candace?" I'm sure I didn't sound as convincing as I hoped. "Sounds fun," I added.

"Yeah, if you're okay with it. I won't go if you don't feel comfortable."

"No, no. Definitely go. Lily will be thrilled. It was nice of them to invite you." I tried forcing a smile on my face as I spoke so I wouldn't sound as skeptical as I felt.

Alec agreed with my sentiments but had to go because his next class was about to start. We said our goodbyes and he promised to call later before hanging up.

I sat staring at my phone, wondering if I had overreacted to Alec's news. Not that he noticed, thank goodness. The last thing I wanted to do was come off as the jealous girlfriend. The more I thought about it, I realized I had nothing to worry about. Alec and I were committed to each other. If he and Candace were going to be together, it would have happened already.

I placed my phone to the side and stood up to check out the goodies in the room. The sheer size of the basket Remi had sent practically took up the entire table it was sitting on. I untied the large bow and let the cellophane fall away so I could get a full gander inside. There were individually wrapped chocolates with different creamy centers, fruit-dipped chocolates, pretzels wrapped in dark and white chocolate, and every nut imaginable, also covered in chocolate. It was a chocolate lover's wet dream. I nearly had an orgasm just smelling it.

Taking a handful of the wrapped chocolates, I walked around the suite discovering things I'd missed when I first arrived. Like the discreetly hidden mini fridge with an assortment of bottled waters, and as if someone above was still looking out for me, cans of Diet Coke. I pulled one from the small refrigerator and popped the top, letting the tiny bubbles tickle my nose as I took the first sip.

Grabbing my shoulder bag, I headed back to the chaise lounge. I was in the mood to get a little more writing done and the spectacular view would provide plenty of inspiration. I scooted the coffee table closer, placing my Diet Coke and chocolates within reach. Settling myself on the chaise with my laptop on my folded legs, I was ready to get started.

Several hours and a couple thousand words later, I closed my laptop and stretched my arms up over my head. The book was progressing so well it almost scared me. Sooner or later I was bound to hit a brick wall. The characters were finding their own voices and driving the whole story. For some reason, this project felt different. Maybe it was the excitement of starting a new series with fresh characters, or it could be the energy in the city that was helping my mojo.

A sudden knock at the door made me jump from the chaise in excitement because I already knew who was waiting on the other side.

"Holy shitballs, are you a celebrity or something?" Olivia asked, stepping into the suite. She openly gawked like I had when I arrived earlier. "Did they mix you up with J.K. Rowling?"

I smacked her on the arm. "I know, right? When I got here I thought it was a mistake too. I've decided even if they did eff up, they'll have to drag me from the room kicking and screaming. By the way, why didn't you tell me I would have an assistant during the trip? It seems like overkill, don't you think? You and Mom will be with me for almost half the trip."

Olivia left her suitcase by the large closet and headed to the sitting area before answering. "I knew you'd say that, which is why I decided to let you discover that tidbit on your own. I didn't want you to balk at the idea. Besides, if they want to give you an assistant, why not take it? Greg seemed cool on the phone, and I'm told he's quite efficient."

"He is, but doesn't all of this seem like a little too much? It makes me nervous to think about all the dough they're sinking into this. What if the new book comes out next week and totally bombs?"

Olivia rolled her eyes dramatically. "Why would you even say that? That's like jinxing it or something. The book is going to be amazing. Everyone thinks so. Own it, slutbag." She reached into the basket and pulled out the package of chocolate-covered pretzels.

"Hey, those are mine!" I reached out to grab them.

"Ha, I knew you were a diva," she said, holding them out of my reach.

"Just kidding. I'll share," I said, unwrapping another chocolate. "I want real food though, so get your ass in gear."

"Yes, your highness."

I stuck out my tongue immaturely. "Bite me."

A small moan of pleasure left her lips as she popped one of the pretzels into her mouth. "These are amazing." She turned the box over to check out the price. "Holy monkey nuts. Twenty-two bucks for these? Maybe you're right. You don't deserve twenty-two-dollar pretzels."

"You're such a brat," I said, tossing a small throw pillow at her. "Come on, I'll buy you a twenty-two-dollar steak."

"Oh no. You're not getting off that cheap. You'll be buying me steak and lobster, sweet lips."

"Sheesh, you're an expensive date for someone who doesn't plan to put out."

She smirked, blowing me a kiss. "Don't you know it, ho bear. Maybe I'll let you spoon me later when we're in bed."

"Whatever. You'll be the one spooning me."

She burst out laughing. "You know you love me," she said, slinging an arm across my shoulder.

"Like a mother is forced to love her ugly child." I went to the bathroom to freshen up before we headed out to dinner.

We continued to trade insults in our typical endearing fashion throughout dinner. The hotel housed a popular five-star restaurant and we were able to get a table without much of a wait. True to her threat, Olivia ordered steak and lobster and a bottle of their finest wine. We drank our way through two bottles, having a blast the entire time. It was the kind of evening I needed to forget, or at least attempt to forget, my interview in the morning. Olivia knew me well, and getting me drunk had likely been her ploy from the beginning. At least she had the good sense to stop me as I waved over the waiter to order a third bottle.

"A relaxed Nicole is good, but hungover we don't want."

Olivia helped me from our booth and walked me toward the bank of elevators with her arm around my waist to hold me up. The trip was a bit hazy, and I'm fairly certain I told her I loved her and would have her babies if she got me a luggage cart to sit on so I wouldn't have to walk. "That's our diva," she said, helping me into the elevator. Then I mentioned something about needing a tiara if I was going to be a true diva. The last thing I remembered was Olivia promising to buy me one if I climbed into bed like a good girl.

The alarm went off the next morning before the sun was even up. I fumbled for my cell phone that seemed to be just out of reach, cringing at the dull thudding in my head. Two bottles of wine suddenly didn't seem like the smartest idea. I was able to scoot my body closer to the nightstand and reach my phone to stop the insistent dinging.

Olivia stretched next to me before pulling the comforter up over her head. "Hey, thanks for setting the alarm on my phone," I said sarcastically.

"Chill. I set mine too." Sure enough, just as she said the words her phone began chirping on the table next to her. She reached out from under the comforter and picked up the phone, holding out for my benefit. "See," she said, wagging it back and forth.

"Got it. Now turn it off before I throw it into the toilet."

"Yeah, yeah. Get yourself into the shower. We need to get you all nice and pretty for your big GMA day." Olivia reached over and yanked the cover from my side of the bed.

"I changed my mind. Call and tell them."

"Ah, sobriety. It's a bitch," she teased, standing up.

I groaned. She was no longer my friend. "You're supposed to be looking out for me."

She walked to my side of the bed and placed her hands on her hips. "How am I not, Miss Overdramatic?"

"You're about to let me go on live TV and make a fool of myself."

Olivia exhaled and sat on the bed next to me. "Look, Nic. I realize this is scary for you. Hell, I'm not even sure I could do it if I were in your shoes. I do know this though: No one put a gun to the producers' heads and forced them to have N.S. Blake on the show. They want you because you're successful and have a great story. Don't stress and overanalyze it any more than that. Just be yourself and you'll do great."

She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled until I stood up from the bed. I tried digging my heels into the carpet, but she shoved at my back. "Wait," I said, turning around. "I love you, whore."

"I love you too. Now get your ass into the bathroom. I need to use the shower too, and we need to meet Greg downstairs in less than two hours."

The only problem with Olivia was that more times than not she was aggravatingly right when it came to me. She never let me forget it either. Even though it seemed like it annoyed me that she knew me as well as I knew myself, I was lucky to have her. That part I knew.

Olivia and I arrived in the lobby to find Greg holding a couple of peppermint lattes from Starbucks. "You are a saint," I said, following him toward his familiar SUV parked out front. I must have made an impression the day before because he drove much more conservatively on the way to the studio that was located in the middle of Times Square.

We arrived in one piece, but that didn't mean I wasn't ready to die or at the very least puke. We were greeted inside by a production assistant who gave us the particulars of my segment while she ushered us to a waiting room. She opened the door and I was surprised to see Remi and Jillian sitting on a small sofa.

They both stood up and hugged me, offering their words of encouragement. There was nowhere to run. The country was going to meet N.S. Blake, the supposed bestselling author who sounded more like a blabbering idiot. I could always switch to children's books. Hear Nicole Babble. Where's Nicole? See Spot and Nicole Run.