Christmas in Bethel

Chapter Eleven

Tonight, the publisher held a champagne toast for Lee and the success of his new book. Lee made me feel as if the evening was as much a celebration of me as it was of him.

Beth Stilton’s Diary

I had looked up the Mark on the way to the hotel. It was called one of the world’s most exquisite hotels, and I could see why. The lobby was gorgeous, and the staff were nice, not pretentious. My bag was waiting, as I hoped, and they reminded me about my massage appointment.

My room was on the third floor and was more luxurious than anything I had ever experienced. The bathroom had a soaking tub made of marble with polished nickel fittings. There was even a heated towel rack.

I filled the tub up, poured in the bath oils, then lay back and closed my eyes. I could get used to this.

I went down for my massage as well, and by the time I got back, I was so relaxed my bones felt like rubber. I lay on the bed and watched television for a half hour, then got ready for the toast. I wanted to look especially nice for him.

Lee knocked on my door at six thirty. While I was ultra relaxed, he looked frazzled.

“Hi,” he said with a weary smile. “You look lovely.”

“So do you. But you look tired. You didn’t get to rest, did you?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t even get to my room. When I’m in town everyone at the publisher’s wants a piece of me.”

“That’s good, though. Right?”

He thought a moment. “It’s better than the alternative. Should we go?”

“Yes.”

We took a cab to the publisher’s building on Avenue of the Americas. We passed security and took the elevator to the twenty-first-floor penthouse. The staff and guests were scattered around the room talking. Laurie was already there. Carlie, whom I had surprisingly forgotten about, was also there. She immediately moved to Lee’s side.

The president of the publishing house greeted us, shaking Lee’s hand first. “This is your party,” he said. “We’re here to celebrate you. Again.”

“Thank you, Jonathan.”

“We’re glad you’re here too, Beth,” he said to me. I was surprised that he knew my name. While Lee talked to some of the other guests, I approached Carlie.

Before I could speak she said, “It’s good to see you, Beth.”

“Have you been in New York the whole time?” I asked.

“The whole time?” she said. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, since Lee got here.”

“I go everywhere Lee goes,” she said. “That’s my job. I take care of him.”

I wasn’t sure how to take her tone. “You do a good job of it.”

She didn’t say anything but stepped back.

Laurie was watching the exchange and stepped forward. “Hi, Beth, it’s good to see you so soon.”

“Likewise.”

“Hello, dear Carlie.”

Carlie’s voice rose to a friendlier pitch. “Hi, Laurie.”

Laurie leaned into me. “Don’t worry about it. She’s a great assistant, but she’s as territorial as a hippopotamus. I’ve had to put her in her place a few times myself.”

“Are hippos territorial?”

“Oh yeah. They’re the worst.”

I wondered how she knew this.

The president walked over to a table crowded with plastic champagne flutes arranged around an oversized bottle of Mo?t & Chandon.

“All right, everyone come take your drinks.”

I picked up a flute and stood next to Laurie.

“It looks like you are all ready,” Jonathan said. “I’m not officially supposed to know this, so no one is to post this yet, but my mole inside the New York Times has informed me that we have yet another number one New York Times bestseller. Congratulations, Lee. We are enormously proud to be your publisher.” He lifted his glass. “To J. D. Harper and Winter in Arcadia. May it be just another footnote in a very long and successful career.”

Everyone touched glasses. Lee turned to me and held out his glass.

“I’m proud of you,” I said. “I hope this is still exciting.”

“Thank you. It’s exciting that you’re here to share it.” He lifted his glass. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” I said.

“We would be delighted to hear from you,” Jonathan said to Lee. “If you would oblige us.”

“My pleasure.” He walked to the front of the room. “It’s truly a pleasure working with you all,” Lee said. “Thank you all for all your hard work. It takes a big team to create, distribute, and sell a book. I’ve got the Chicago Bulls of teams. And by that, I mean during their Michael Jordan years.”

“Go Knicks,” someone said.

“Go Knicks,” Lee said back. “And go us. We’ve got a lot more books to sell, and I will be on the road for another thirteen cities before the new year. So I wish you all a very happy Thanksgiving, a Merry Christmas, and a happy and successful new year.”

Everyone lifted their glasses again and drank.