The Accidental Bestseller (43 page)

As Naomi prepared to hang up, Kendall forced herself to speak. “So,” she said tentatively, not quite sure how to frame the one question she felt compelled to ask. “I guess Jane Jensen must have really liked the book.”

There was a brief pause and then, “Jane Jensen?” Naomi pronounced the name with a sniff, as if it didn’t mean much to her. “I don’t know about her.”

“Oh.”

“But the publisher certainly loved it. And so did the associate publisher. And the head of sales. And pretty much everyone else who really matters at Scarsdale.”

She laughed gaily while Kendall marveled at the absurdity of all of this happening now. How could it be that Jane Jensen, who cared so little for her and her work, had allowed this to happen?

“I don’t know where you’ve been up ’til now, Kendall. But there’s no question that at least as far as Scarsdale Publishing is concerned, you most definitely have now arrived.”

The first phone call Kendall made was to Mallory, who hooked them up to Faye and Tanya.

“Are you telling me this woman just called you out of the blue?” Tanya had started shrieking when she heard the name Kristen Calder and hadn’t stopped. The sound of washing machines and dryers roared faintly in the background.

“Yes!” Kendall replied. She was still quivering with excitement, her thoughts ricocheting in what felt like a million directions. “I was bracing myself for Jane Jensen and there was Scarsdale’s head of publicity handing me the moon.”

“Oh, my God! A Kristen Calder pick!” Tanya was still shrieking. “I just can’t believe it!”

“This is so great.” Mallory had said this five or six times now, but Kendall couldn’t help noticing that the congratulations sounded a bit hollow. “We all knew how good this book was. I just didn’t think Jane Jensen would ever admit it.”

“Really,” Faye agreed. “We all thought we were flying under the radar on this one.” There was a tinge of something Kendall couldn’t quite identify in Faye’s voice. “I have to admit I never expected this.”

Were they jealous? Kendall wondered but then dismissed the thought as quickly as it arose. They’d made this happen for her. Why wouldn’t they be pleased? Still some of her excitement began to fade. Not wanting to let the thought fester, she put it out there. “Is this a problem for you guys?” Kendall asked. “I mean, obviously I’m incredibly excited, but I hate that you’re not getting credit.”

“Not to mention the royalties,” Mallory observed, her voice dry.

Tanya stopped shrieking.

“Any idea what kind of print run we’re talking?” Faye asked.

Kendall had been so shocked by Naomi Fondren’s call she hadn’t even thought to ask.

“Well,” Mallory said. “You remember James Frey, the guy who wrote
A Million Little Pieces
, the Oprah pick that turned out to be fiction and not nonfiction as advertised? His book sold something like 3.5 million copies and sat on the
New York Times
Bestseller List for about fifteen weeks. Kristen Calder doesn’t have as big an effect as Oprah, but her last couple of picks topped all the bestseller lists. We could be talking close to a million copies.” Mallory’s tone had gone from dry to grim. “You do the math.”

Now Kendall felt like shit. Her friends had done her a tremendous favor; if it hadn’t been for them there would have been no
Sticks and Stones
. Yet here she was about to reap monetary benefits and critical acclaim as well. “Look, you guys,” she said, “we all know this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I mean, who ever thought we’d be having this conversation?” She stared out the kitchen window, trying to push the guilt far enough aside so she could figure out what to do about it. “We all thought the book would disappear and that would be that.”

“Clearly we did way too good a job,” Faye observed, trying for humor. “But once you’re a Calder pick, making the
New York Times
list can’t be far behind.” She didn’t sound at all excited about the prospect.

“Is anybody else still trying to do the math?” Tanya asked weakly, and Kendall thought about what this kind of money would mean to Tanya and her girls.

“We’ll just split the money up,” Kendall said. “That’s the easy part. We did this together and we should benefit equally.” She thought for a moment. “And when I go on Kristen Calder I can just tell her what really happened. If I put the right spin on it, she might like the story behind the story of four friends pulling together. Then you all could share in the credit, too.”

For a minute, Kendall could see it. She’d want the three of them in the audience anyway—she couldn’t imagine being there without them—she’d just introduce them and they could all confess together on national television. It would be a Kristen Calder exclusive.

“Absolutely not!” Faye put a halt to Kendall’s little fantasy. “We talked about this before. My name can’t ever be attached to this book.” There was regret in her voice, but something that sounded like fear, too. “Not ever.” She cleared her throat. “And as hard as it is to pass up
The Kristen Calder Show
and a spot on the
New York Times
list, I can’t believe Mallory and Tanya want to be in breach of their contracts, either.”

“I could sure use the money, Kendall,” Tanya said. “And I’d love for people to know I had a hand in a bestseller.” She gave a bitter sort of laugh. “But I can’t let Masque know I had anything to do with
Sticks and Stones.
I checked my contract, and I’m definitely not allowed to work on any outside projects. It could give them grounds to drop me.”

“I agree,” Mallory said. “Admitting coauthorship could open us all up to trouble. I don’t want anyone to know I wrote Miranda Jameson. She’s not exactly a heroine I’m looking to claim. And I can promise you Partridge and Portman’s legal department would have plenty to say about one of its golden geese collaborating on a book for one of their competitors.”

“OK then,” Faye said, her relief apparent even over the phone line. “We all agree that Kendall will split the royalties equally among us and that Kendall remains the acknowledged author of
Sticks and Stones.
”

Kendall agreed, but her earlier emotional high had given way to an uncomfortable low. She disliked dishonesty, yet submitting
Sticks and Stones
with only her name on it was one great big fat lie.

No matter how compelling her reasons, or how insistent Faye, Tanya, and Mallory were about keeping the collaboration secret, taking credit for their work left Kendall at odds with herself and undeniably diminished.

“Listen,” Mallory added. “I know this is really great news for you. I’m sorry not to sound more enthusiastic. I’ve just got a few other things on my mind.”

Kendall suspected her friend was referring to the standoff with her husband. Chris had finished his project in Arizona and accepted another up in the Pacific Northwest. Mallory was writing up a storm as usual, and had just found out that
Hidden Assets
had moved from number ten to five on the
New York Times
list. In a rare confidence, she’d informed Kendall that she wasn’t going to drop everything and chase across the country after him.

“As exciting as it all seems, you need to be prepared,” Mallory said. “All the touring and signing seems very cool at first, but it can get really old really quickly.”

Kendall laughed. “Well, it’s going to be quite a departure from sitting alone up on my mountaintop, but I figure I might as well enjoy it. Wouldn’t it be a great irony to hit the list on my way out of Scarsdale?” Not to mention with a book she hadn’t authored alone.

“One last warning,” Mallory said. “Scarsdale might not be so quick to let you go now that you’ve delivered a book they can make real money off of,” Mallory said. “If
Sticks and Stones
does as well as it looks like it’s going to, they’re going to want the sequel.”

“But they’ve already terminated her contract,” Tanya pointed out. “Jane Jensen told her to get lost.”

“All I’m saying is in publishing you should ‘never say never,’ ” Mallory replied. “If they think they can make money from Kendall in the future, they could offer her big bucks to stay. And Kendall wouldn’t have to work with Jane if she didn’t want to. Once you become valuable enough, you’re in the driver’s seat. And all the choices become yours.”

“I’m still trying to deal with the reality of Kristen Calder and the possibility of the
New York Times
list.” Faye sounded downright unhappy at the prospect. “That’s going to call an awful lot of attention to a book we all agreed we didn’t want to call too much attention to.”

Once again, Kendall felt as if she’d strayed into completely alien territory. In a span of months she’d gone from being afraid she’d never sell again to full-fledged publisher support. Whether anyone else ever knew it or not, she’d be aware that she hadn’t gotten there on her own merits.

For the first time in a month, her fingers itched for the feel of a power tool. She would have liked to have a project waiting for her when she hung up.

“I don’t think we should worry about making the list before the book is even in print,” Kendall said, trying to smooth things over and put everyone, including herself, at ease. “Besides, I have a much more pressing concern at the moment that I need your input on.”

The murmurings of support began. Faye joined in, too, though Kendall was no longer sure who was rooting for the success of
Sticks and Stones
and who was rooting against it.

“I’m about to have an author photo taken and go on a sixteen-city tour,” Kendall said. “And I don’t have a thing to wear.”

This stimulated the hoped-for change of topic as everyone piped in with suggestions that would help her minimize the amount of luggage while maximizing the number of outfits, but it didn’t completely calm Kendall’s nerves. She caught her attention straying to the hall closet where her tool belt hung. Maybe she should leave some room for it in her suitcase. So that she could strap it on if things got tense.

35

—GORE VIDAL

 

 

 

By the time
Sticks and Stones
came out on April 16, Kendall had pinched herself so many times her arms were black and blue.

She spent the day in Atlanta, where she went to a Buckhead salon for the works, coming out late that afternoon buffed and polished and professionally made up. She dressed in her room at the Ritz-Carlton where Scarsdale had booked her for the night. Tomorrow Dana Kinberg would escort her to bookstores all over Atlanta to sign stock and meet booksellers. Then she and Dana would fly to Miami, from where they’d begin their trek northward. Her last appearance would be in Chicago, when Kristen Calder would interview her about
Sticks and Stones,
with selected book clubs in the audience.

Hardly recognizing herself in the mirror, Kendall changed into one of the Travelers ensembles that she’d bought at Chicos—after being assured that all of the pieces were not only interchangeable and machine washable, but could be balled up in her suitcase only to pop out unwrinkled at each destination.

As she slid into the passenger seat of Dana’s car for the drive to the Margaret Mitchell House, Kendall offered up a silent prayer of thanks for the petite dark-haired author escort that Scarsdale had provided and without whom she was certain she would now be bouncing off the walls. Or cowering in a darkened corner.

Somewhere in her early forties, Dana Kinberg was an unusual mix of calm and chutzpah, a champion hand-holder who remained unfazed by Kendall’s fear of the unknown, the publisher’s punishing schedule, or the bazillion details she’d be expected to handle on the road. Normally Dana only worked in and around Atlanta, but Scarsdale had arranged for the escort to accompany Kendall all the way through to the stop just before Chicago.

To date there hadn’t been a single question Kendall had posed that Dana was unable to answer. If Dana wondered how Kendall could have written so many books and remained so ignorant of the touring process, she was too tactful to say so. Kendall was already growing dependent on her and they hadn’t even left town yet.

“Oh, God.” Kendall breathed heavily as they turned onto Peachtree and pulled into the parking lot behind the Margaret Mitchell House. “What will I do if no one shows up?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Dana said in her soothing matter-of-fact voice. “I checked in with reservations this morning, and the event is a complete sellout. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

Kendall didn’t see how this could be so, but rather than waste these last few minutes arguing, she spent them breathing deeply in an effort to calm down. On the front step, she paused in a final attempt to gather herself. With Dana at her right shoulder acting as her entourage and literary “wingman,” Kendall entered the room.

The first familiar faces she saw were Melissa’s and Jeffrey’s. They rushed over to her, identical smiles creasing their faces, their arms already open for hugs. Calvin followed with a pleasantly neutral smile on his face. Todd and Dee flanked him on either side. Laura Wiles was nowhere to be seen.