Adulation (24 page)

“I’m thinking of going with a pen name,” I said to Josh. “Hell, I would settle for Morning Smith, although that sounds way dumber.”

“No. You need to take full credit for this,” he said.

“Fine. But no author photo,” I insisted. “I draw the line.”

“You should at least set up a Facebook fan page.”

“Josh, I’m not interested in having fans. Readers don’t need to know me in order to like what I write. They don’t  need my picture next to their bed to understand the plot, or know what my voice sounds like in order to hear the character’s voice.”

“But you do need them to buy your books and then tell their friends about them. Like it or not, we live in a viral, networked world now. And people enjoy having access to their idols. Can you imagine if the Beatles tweeted back in the day?”

“Let me tell you something,” I said. “I saw John Mayer’s Twitter feed and it took me just two days to realize that I didn’t give a rat’s ass what was on his mind every five seconds. In fact, I’m surprised it took me that long.”

He laughed, but maintained his position. “But it’s more than that, Sunny. Don’t you have favorite writers who have inspired you? Wouldn’t you love to be able to tell them what their writing has meant to you?”

“Of course,” I said, feeling horrible as the word
failure
 
pounded against my brain.

“What’s so bad about someone wanting that moment with you?” he asked.

I decided to start with Twitter and set up an account with the username @SunriseMSmith. It was, ironically, one more step into the world.

Josh and I spent Thanksgiving apart, but exchanged Christmas presents and went to Tim and his wife Carrie’s Christmas party together.

“He’s so
 
mature
,” remarked my mother. “Way more mature than Teddy ever was.”

Dad liked him too, and Tim was even more smitten with him than I was once he found out that Joshwas part of a fantasy football league. They spent over an hour in the corner of Tim’s living roomcomparing stats and teams and players, clinking beer bottles every few minutes and gesturing as ifwatching an actual game. Josh had even offered to teach me how the league worked—I’d always been

baffled by how seriously people took it—but Tim guffawed and wished Josh luck.

We spent New Year’s Eve at the Whitford’s company party in Manhattan (Georgie had declined, opting to help Marcus cater a party in East Hampton instead). We had also agreed to wait till after the holidays for me to meet his children. For one thing, we both wanted to wait to see where our relationship was headed before getting his kids emotionally involved. For another thing, the holidays were such a busy time for Whitford’s that we hardly had time for ourselves, much less anyone else. Georgie insisted that the real reason Josh was delaying my meeting his kids was because he was avoiding his responsibilities as a father, acting out his midlife crisis in full force. He also insinuated that perhaps Josh wasn’t taking this relationship as seriously as I was.

“It’s not like I’m some bimbo half his age,” I argued. “And besides, we both proposed it.”

“Right,” he said. “Just like you and Teddy
 
both
 
wanted kids so badly.” The word was so cutting with sarcasm I could actually feel the slit across my heart. The wall between us was getting higher and thicker each day—instead of taking his lunch breaks with Theo and me, Georgie was now brown-bagging his lunch and talking  to Marcus on his phone in the break room. If the three of us went out (and it seemed that Georgie wouldn’t go anywhere with me anymore without a third party present), all things Joshua Hamilton had moved to the top of the banned topics list, along with Danny Masters, the Kardashians, and pop stars under the age of twenty.

“Look, do you realize how much this is hurting me? How much I miss you?” I had said to him one night, in tears.

“And you think this is a picnic for me?” he’d choked back.

“I just don’t understand why you don’t like him.”

“He doesn’t like
 
me
.”

“You don’t know each other.”

“And I’m perfectly happy to keep it that way,” he said. “Listen, Sunrise. I know he’s, like, Mr. Sex God—guys like him have to be—”

“What do you mean, guys like him?”

“—and you were needing someone to cuddle up with besides me, but really, you could do so much better than him. Hell, you’re better off trying to get back in touch with Danny Masters.”

“Georgie, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were jealous.”

“I have a
 
partner
, Sunny. Notice I didn’t say a lover or boyfriend. This isn’t some bullshit stereotypical gay fling where I’m looking at the next guy while out with my own. Honest to God, sometimes I think you’re no better than anyone else. Marcus and I are
 
in
 
this relationship.”

“I’m
 
in
 
as well,” I argued. “And so is Josh.”

“Whatever.”

“So this is how it’s going to be from now on? You’re not going to support me until I break up with this guy?”

“I
 
am
 
supporting you right now,” he said. “You just can’t see it.”

Seeing the listing for
 
Long Island Ducks
 
on Amazon, and my name on the cover, was beyond exhilarating. I immediately took a screen shot and posted it on my Twitter and Facebook pages; the idea of an authorfan page was suddenly tempting. When my first sale appeared on the Kindle Direct Publishing salesreport, I erupted in tears of joy. By the end of the first week, fifteen units of
Long Island Ducks
 
had beenpurchased, and I was over the moon. Theo and even Georgie were beside themselves with excitement, as

was Josh.

“I am so proud of you,” he said to me one night in bed. “It’s only going to get better from here.”

“I hope so.”

“Must be great to cross something big like that off your Forty for Forty list.”

I nodded, feeling the warmth of the very thought of it, never mind having actually done so. “You have no idea.
 
I
 
had no idea. I never imagined taking charge of my life like this would feel so empowering, so contagious. I feel like my life is in motion again.”

“That’s fantastic, Sunny, it really is.” He kissed me, and then a devilish look came across his face. “Now it’s high time we talk about that other item on your list.”

“What other item?”

“Sleep with Danny Masters.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake...

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Danny Masters

FADE IN:

INT. PUBLIC RADIO STATION BUILDING - MORNING

JACK WOODWARD (35 years old, the stress of the job has taken a tollon his face) enters the building, a briefcase and paper coffee cup ineach hand. Passersby greet him by name.

CUT TO:

INT. JACK’S OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER

JOSIE STARK (late 30s, attractive, professionally dressed) sits at

Jack’s desk. She is putting in eyedrops when Jack startles her.

JOSIE

It’s about time you got here.

JACK

It’s six a.m.

JOSIE

Legal has been circling the wagons since this thing broke.

JACK

There was a line at Starbucks. Can you believe that? Five thirty a.m.

And there’s a line. You’d think they were handing out crack.

JOSIE

And that goes to the top of the list of things I don’t care about

right now. Jack sits on the other side of his desk. Looks disoriented

to be on that side.

JACK

What’s the problem, Josie?

JOSIE

You’re kidding, right? We’re getting calls from every local news

organization about the firing of Gordon Ramos, not to mention far

right-wing pundits calling on Congress to cut off our funding yet

again. One of them referred to us as “elitist” seventeen times, and

that was all in one sentence.

JACK

Did he use it as a noun or a verb?

JOSIE

Will you take this seriously, please? We’re losing sponsors, donorsare withdrawing their pledges, and our affiliates are distancingthemselves from us.

JACK

All because we fired one of our local reporters for making incendiary

remarks?

JOSIE

Not just any local reporter, Jack. Gordon has been a news reporter

with this station since you were in diapers. Not to mention that he’s

Latino.

JACK

We didn’t fire him because he’s Latino. We fired him because he

referred to the Main Street Mosque as “a terrorist camp” and the

Quran as “a book of satanic verses.” I don’t care how senior he is.

You don’t go saying that in a culture that is already grossly

misinformed.

JOSIE

I’m not so sure he was wrong.

JACK

Please, please tell me you didn’t just say that.

JOSIE

I didn’t mean it like that.

JACK

’Cause I’ll follow him right out that door, voluntarily and

willingly.

JOSIE

That’s not what I--I meant that he was voicing what people already

secretly think and are too afraid to say. His words were taken out of

context.

JACK

What the hell context preceded “terrorist camp” and “satanic verses”?

JOSIE

I’m just saying, the video was edited, and we got it out of context.

JACK

Is this all your way of saying you’re re-hiring him?

JOSIE

I’m saying we may have acted too rashly without doing a full

investigation.

JACK

Welcome to 21st century journalism, Boss.