Professor Feelgood (Page 34)

He turns to leave, but I touch his arm.

“Jake, wait.” He looks at my hand, then turns back to me. “Part of the meeting today will be an in-depth interview about your life. It’s standard practice for our publicity manager.”

He shifts his weight, and it’s clear how uncomfortable he is already. “Is it mandatory?”

“Nothing’s mandatory. Just thought you should know.” He returned my coat. The least I can do is warn him about Sid.

He gives a tight nod, then without looking at me again, pulls open the door and stalks out.

As soon as the door closes behind him, my tension level drops fifty points and I slump back against the bench. Why the hell does everything with him have to be so difficult? I know there was a time when we were as easy as breathing, but it was a hundred years ago, and I can’t remember how it felt.

I hold up my coat, still gobsmacked he got it back for me. Then, I touch the warm patch on the back of my neck where his hand was. Caring-Jake always melted my heart, but then Cruel-Jake came along and replaced him, and honestly, now I only remember how to deal with the second guy. If the first guy starts showing up again, things around here are going to get messy, fast.

Pushing errant memories back we’re they belong, I check my reflection. I thought my shirt might have gotten more opaque as it dried, but nope. My bra is definitely the star of this ensemble.

I pull on the coat and belt it over my damp clothes. Then I push my hair back, wipe one last stray smear of eyeliner from my cheek, and pretend I’m feeling a whole lot better than I am, both mentally and physically.

“Okay,” I say to my slightly less-disheveled reflection. “Time to kick ass and chew gum, and I’m all out of gum.”

ELEVEN

____________________

Oh, No He Didn’t

BY THE TIME I GET back into the conference room, Sidney is in full flight detailing his kazillion point plan for getting the word out about the professor. His face lights up as he talks, and Jake seems impressed. He can probably tell that like a lot of people here, Sidney truly does enjoy his job.

I take my seat as unobtrusively as possible, ensuring I don’t interrupt Sid’s flow.

“We plan on announcing the book deal later today, and we’ll reinforce that Asha was in fact the person who discovered you to put to rest all the rumors to the contrary.” He smiles at me then turns to Jake. “As soon as the official release hits the news outlets, you can tell all your fans.”

Jake gestures to his phone. “Seems like the coverage about the bidding war tipped them off. My phone has been blowing up with messages all day.”

“Well, great,” Sid says. “The more buzz, the better.” He passes around copies of the draft press release. “This is what we’ll send out in a few hours. And Jake, we’re going to need to organize a photo shoot with you ASAP, to get publicity shots. I’ll liaise with Asha to make sure we slot it into the schedule.”

After everyone has a copy of the release, Sid shifts in his seat so he’s fully facing Jake, and I can tell we’ve reached the deeply-personal-questions portion of today’s meeting. “So, Jacob … in the spirit of getting to know you better, tell us about yourself.”

Jake blinks a few times, and I can feel the tension from across the table. “Not much to tell.”

Wow, four words. This is going to be even worse than I thought.

“What about your family?” Sid prompts, with the calm, encouraging demeanor of a seasoned therapist. “Tell us about your parents.”

Jake shifts in his seat. I’ve never seen an author flat out refuse to answer personal questions before, but there’s a strong possibility it could happen today.

As if sensing Jake’s unease, Sid’s tone becomes even more soothing, and he talks to him like he’s a wild animal preparing to bolt. “It’s okay. You don’t need to share anything you don’t want to. But as soon as your real identity is out in the world, your private information is going to be fair game to press and fans. We’ve found it’s best that we control the flow of information right from the start.”

There’s another few seconds of awkward silence on Jake’s part, and then he says, “I grew up in Brooklyn.”

“And your dad raised you, yes?”

He shoots me an accusing look, no doubt guessing I’ve already spilled some of his personal details.

“Yes. He was a police officer, but after he got hurt on the job, he retired on disability a few years ago.”

“Are you and he close?”

He doesn’t even hesitate before saying, “No.” That says everything about how things are with his dad.

They never had what you could call a congenial relationship. A big reason Jake spent so much time at our place when he was a kid was so he could avoid his dad after he’d been drinking, which was often. I know I had issues with my dad being absent from my life, but that was preferable to Jake’s situation. His was constantly on his back about something or other. He never talked, he only yelled. On more than one occasion when Mr. Stone was drunk, Jake would climb through my bedroom window with bruises, a busted lip, or a black eye. My first experience with makeup was stealing Mom’s concealer, so the kids at school wouldn’t ask Jake too many questions about what happened.

Of course, as soon as Jake got big enough to fight back, the beatings stopped. At least, I think they did. It was around that time we started drifting apart. His dad met a new woman, and suddenly, Jake had a new stepmother and brother.

Jake hated Jeremy so much, he went berserk when we started dating. Perhaps it was for the best. We’d reached that awkward point in a boy-girl friendship when it was obvious we were biologically incompatible to be friends anymore.

“And what about your mom?” Sid asks, still with that soft vocal tone that invites confession.

“Never really knew her,” Jake says, acting flippant, but I can see the slight tick in his left eye. “She left when I was three.”

Jake doesn’t talk about his mom. Never did. Doubt he ever will. He and I shared the pain of an absent parent, but we rarely discussed it. Even though I resented my dad for leaving us, at least he made it clear he loved me, and his leaving wasn’t my fault.

For Jake, it was the opposite. On more than one occasion, I heard Mr. Stone yelling that Jake was the reason his mother abandoned them. His battle with alcohol started after his wife left, and the breakup was the reason Mr. Stone moved them back to their family home in Brooklyn. I also think she was the reason Jake’s been angry with the world for as long as I can remember.

“No sisters or brothers?” Sid asks.

Jake shakes his head. “Nope.”

Okay, so we’re just not even acknowledging Jeremy’s existence now? Understandable. To be honest, I have no idea where Jeremy and his mom are these days, and my care factor about their whereabouts is in the negative digits. They were both peas in a rotten pod, and I hope that somewhere, karma is making their lives hell.

“Anyone else of note during your upbringing?”

Jake shoots me the briefest of glances. “I did have a best friend when I was growing up.”

“Oh? Tell us about him.”

“Her, actually.” Okay. That’s all we need to know. Move on. “She lived next door.”

Stop talking, Jacob. Stop talking now.

Sid leans forward. He smells a meaty story. “That’s sweet. Is she still in your life?”