Chapter 13
THE ROYCE HOTEL, MANHATTAN
‘…And I know it’s being thrown right into the deep end with Zeeta Friedmann but you won’t believe the competition we were fighting with.
’ Cheyenne inhaled like she’d been taking part in a free-diving competition and this was her first breath after winning a place in the record books.
‘Zendaya is in town and Teddy Swims and that new boy band Simon Cowell created. December something.’
‘Ten,’ Phoebe said, from her position on the sofa.
‘Wow,’ Gabriella said, pointing the remote at the sizeable flatscreen TV on one of the walls of this impressive suite. ‘If Gordon Ramsay had been Stateside with a cookbook I’d have been toast.’
‘Or an idiot sandwich,’ Phoebe said.
Gabriella laughed. ‘That was funny, Phoebe.’
But it was obvious that Cheyenne wasn’t finding any of this funny.
She had been in full-on work mode for the past hour, reeling off itineraries like it was a Harry Styles world tour.
But that was what they were here for. To make sure the book reached as many people as possible.
To give people strategy and coping mechanisms based on self-improvement and for them to read Lulu’s poems and see her beautiful drawings.
‘Gabriella,’ Cheyenne said, taking the remote from her and pointing it at the TV to switch it off. ‘All Chapters really wants the second book to capture even more hearts than the first.’
And by ‘hearts’ Cheyenne meant Kindle downloads or limited-edition hardbacks with the sprayed edges that Sainsbury’s got exclusively in the UK.
‘I know,’ Gabriella said.
‘So, this tour here is important for the worldwide market. You know that many countries still take their lead from the US.’
‘I know that too,’ Gabriella agreed, nodding.
‘And there are many self-help books out there. More than ever before actually.’
‘I also know that,’ Gabriella stated, feeling tension at the back of her neck. She put her hand there, held it. ‘Mel Robbins is practically living on everybody’s kitchen tables.’
‘And smartphones and e-readers and laptops but…’ Cheyenne breathed like talking was giving her a seizure. But then, ‘Most importantly is the living we need to do in people’s minds.’ She tapped the side of her head with a forefinger. She had moved on from ‘hearts’ obviously.
Gabriella’s gaze went to her niece who was now not face deep in Anna Karenina but all eyes were on Cheyenne and whatever theatrics were happening right now.
‘And people’s minds are why we are here in New York,’ Cheyenne stated.
‘OK,’ Gabriella said. ‘So, I must have missed that detail in the last marketing meeting.’
‘You, Gabriella, need to make the kind of connection where the readers are thinking about Zero Fucks Given all the time. We want them to wake up and think about that book, that mantra they are building into their daily routine that is going to heal them.’
‘OK, Cheyenne,’ Gabriella said, walking towards the sofa where Phoebe was.
‘Before this world destroys them.’
‘Whoa!’ Gabriella said, feeling the need to stand in front of Phoebe and block her view of Cheyenne.
‘OK, let’s slow this down a little. We’ve just arrived.
We need to find our feet with this. And…
I don’t remember this book’s purpose being to make people think of nothing else.
’ Cheyenne’s firm business mind was now verging on megalomaniac, and this wasn’t what Gabriella wanted Phoebe to hear.
She also didn’t want that for the book. The book was meant to be a guide, not commandments to be radically enforced.
Or something to make people feel guilty about having a bacon bap at a London caff…
‘We need people to talk about it,’ Cheyenne continued, starting to pace the space.
‘We want the book and its lifestyle to be the first topic of conversation at coffee shops, on the subway, at dinner parties. No home should be complete without this book, no soul should be bereft of its restorative qualities. That’s why we need to go all out.
That’s why we’ve rejacketed the book especially for this tour and—’
‘What? The book has a new cover?’
These questions came from Phoebe who had got to her feet and was now standing beside Gabriella, looking as shocked about this information as Gabriella.
She hadn’t signed off on a new cover. And no one had told her either.
She knew that sometimes the minutiae of the meetings washed over her but something like that would not have passed her by.
‘I wasn’t meant to let that slip. It’s going to be a surprise on the Zeeta show. But… it’s striking,’ Cheyenne said. ‘You’re going to love it.’
‘Where is it?’ Gabriella asked, a million thoughts demanding attention. This was madness. What publisher made a new cover without consulting the author about it whatsoever?
Cheyenne smiled. ‘Listen to you, so excited to see it! I knew you would be and, when we meet the stylist tomorrow, I’m going to see if she can coordinate some outfits to match.’
Stylist? They were meeting a stylist? Gabriella was damn sure that hadn’t been mentioned either! And Cheyenne had mentioned more things than any city sightseeing bus tour guide.
‘But… my mum’s drawing, the ballerina, it’s still on the back of the cover, isn’t it?’
Phoebe’s voice cracked at the end of the sentence and it was a sound that Gabriella never liked hearing.
And, she swore, if Cheyenne didn’t say the correct thing here, she might swiftly ‘coordinate’ her arse to the other side of the suite.
Except, Cheyenne didn’t need to say anything.
Gabriella could see already, by the expression on the publicist’s face, that this answer was not going to be favourable for the Felixes in the room and all Gabriella could think of were two words. Damage limitation.
She acted, grabbing Cheyenne’s arm in a vice-like grip that made her yelp and marching her to the balcony doors, which she slid fiercely open with one hand, while half-dragging Cheyenne over the threshold with the other, before wrenching them to a close again.
Freezing, sleet-filled air met her boiling-hot mood.
‘Ow! You’re hurting me, Gabriella,’ Cheyenne squeaked. ‘This is very not like the chapter on “kindness” you wrote.’
She loosened her hold slightly.
‘If you want me to let go of your arm then you’d better tell me that “kindness” was all over the thinking of the new cover and that my sister’s drawing is still on there.’
‘Why are you baring your teeth like that? It’s… unsettling and I’m sure this could definitely be classed as workplace harassment.’
It was only then that Gabriella realised she was perhaps one breath away from losing total control.
She couldn’t lose all her control. The last time she had done that was at Lulu’s funeral when she’d punched Phoebe’s father for daring to show his face.
She rapidly rearranged her features now, made her expression into something hopefully vaguely professional and less Big Bad Wolf.
‘Answer my question, Cheyenne. Is my sister’s drawing on the back of the new book cover? ’ Her heart was pounding.
‘No,’ Cheyenne answered fast. ‘Now, let me go!’
Gabriella did let go, and that thumping heart now felt like it had stopped, flatlined.
Was this for real? Unlike her playing-dead heart, her thoughts were firing and flooding simultaneously.
How had this happened? Why didn’t she know?
What the fuck could she do about it? She shivered as her body seemed to suddenly realise that it was outside on a freezing cold balcony and she wasn’t wearing a coat.
Cheyenne was already making for the doors to go back inside, but Gabriella was damned if she was going to let her go back into the suite – to a confused-looking Phoebe who was going to be devastated by this development.
She leapt ahead of Cheyenne, blocking the way. ‘When was this decision made?’
‘Gabriella, it’s freezing out here. Let’s go inside and—’
‘I asked a question. Answer it.’
‘It was a commercial decision, obviously. A new, more modern aesthetic in line with your contemporaries but, I think you will agree, also with an edge of freshness that sets it apart. In a great way. In a hopefully mind-capturing, money-spinning way.’
‘But I haven’t seen it,’ Gabriella stated, breath visible in the air. ‘Or had any input on it. Or said that it would be in any way fucking OK to not have my sister’s drawing on it!’
Cheyenne drew in what sounded like a very irritated breath. ‘As you were aware, when you signed the contract, All Chapters has the final say on the cover art and the title of the book and any subsequent editions.’
‘And, as you should be aware,’ Gabriella countered. ‘I also agreed with All Chapters that my sister’s artwork and her poetry were a binding condition of my signing the contract. If I remember it was clause seven point four.’
‘And clause seven point four relates to the first edition only. Not subsequent editions and definitely not special editions made for a US book tour.’
What? Was Cheyenne, the publicist, quoting contract clauses at her? What was actually going on here?
‘Gabriella, you should be pleased that All Chapters are pushing the budget on this one. There aren’t many authors who get the chance to tour New York and talk with Zeeta Friedmann.’
‘And fewer who do that with a book cover they’ve never seen before.’ She threw her hands up. ‘It’s like asking Zendaya to promote a movie she starred in but hold up, wait, the studio are changing the entire plot right before the talk show comes back from the ad break. Just putting it out there.’
‘It’s not like that at all.’
‘No? So why wait until now to tell me? When the decision is made, when the books have been printed, so I have no choice.’
‘I don’t know why—’
‘Yeah, well, the last part wasn’t a question, Cheyenne. It was a statement. You didn’t ask me at all. And you didn’t tell me until now so I could do nothing about it.’ She turned her head away from looking at her publicist and instead looked inside at her niece.
Phoebe was stood, hands clasped together, eyes rapidly flitting left and right then back to the patio doors, unsettled, mulling over this development about her mum’s drawing.
Gabriella had committed to her care, would always be committed to her care, as long as she had breath in her own body.
She had to somehow make this right, or, for the time being, if she couldn’t make it right, she had to make it bearable. She looked back to Cheyenne.
‘I want you to tell me exactly what else has changed in the book,’ Gabriella said, eyes firmly set on the All Chapters’ employee.
‘I don’t think—’
‘I’m not dumb, Cheyenne. Don’t treat me like it. If they’ve changed the cover then they’ve altered some of the content and I’m not sitting with Zeeta Friedmann or Jimmy fucking Fallon not knowing what is or isn’t in this special edition. Got it? Or do I need to pinch your arm again?’
‘Got it,’ Cheyenne answered with a shaky nod.
‘Then start talking,’ Gabriella ordered. ‘Because we aren’t going back inside until I know everything. I don’t have being turned into an ice sculpture on a hotel balcony on my New York wish list but, in this case I could absolutely roll with it.’