Command Control. Sara Stone Jane

       6

      MIDDAY LIGHT POURED in the bedroom window as Sadie searched for her sneakers. They were her only pair of shoes suitable for farm chores. She finally found them buried at the bottom of her suitcase. While she was lacing them up, her cell vibrated on the floor beside her.

      “Anne-Marie,” Sadie greeted her publicist. “I hope you have good news.”

      “Good and not so good. Are you sitting down?” Anne-Marie demanded in her raspy smoker’s voice that made her sound like an evil woman hunting Dalmatian puppies to make a coat.

      Sadie glanced at the bedside clock. Eleven in the morning. She’d lost track of time when she’d sat down at her computer early that morning to write a few pages. She was already late, and pretty soon Logan would start wondering if she’d flaked on him.

      “I’m sitting, but I don’t have much time.”

      “Make time,” Anne-Marie said. “My good news—it is huge.”

      A thrill ran through her. “Huge as in a movie deal?”

      “Close. I just spoke with the producers over at Today in America. They want to reveal the woman behind MJ Lane on live TV during the prime-time slot the day your next book releases. In addition to the interview, they will do a piece on how you moved to New York City from Maryland to seek your fortune. How you struggled, working as a secretary by day and a waitress at night in order to support your father, who served our great nation. And how you used your precious spare time to write your first book.” Anne-Marie paused. “Your father is a veteran, isn’t he?”

      “Yes.” And he was going to hate this story. The entire world knowing he relied on his daughter to make ends meet? He might not speak to her for months. There was even a chance he’d refuse to cash her monthly check. “He served.”

      “Wonderful,” Anne-Marie said. “After they talk about your backstory, they will bring you out for an interview. If we play our cards right, we’ll announce a major motion picture deal for Isabelle’s Command.”

      “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Sadie cried.

      “Before you get too excited, you should know that it is a pretty big if at the moment,” Anne-Marie said. “The studio is backing away from the deal. They’re nervous about turning another erotica book into a major motion picture. The casting for that other erotica film hasn’t been easy.”

      “I don’t want to lose this, Anne-Marie.” Sadie wanted to see her work made into a movie. And she wanted to add the hundred-or-so thousand dollars from that deal to her growing safety net. “What if we can find a way to keep the press interested and talking about MJ Lane until the show airs?”

      “Perhaps. If the studio feels that you’re a big enough name to warrant the risk, it might work. How do you plan to do that without revealing your identity?”

      “I’ll think of something,” Sadie promised.

      “Think fast,” Anne-Marie said. “We don’t have much time. Now, for this interview you need to look like MJ Lane from head to toe. Something hot and sexy.”

      “Don’t worry, I’ll start shopping online tonight.”

      “It needs to be perfect,” her publicist insisted. “This is the big break we’ve been waiting for. We’re sharing the morning show plans with all of the bookstore accounts and they’re begging for more copies on day one.”

      The morning show, the movie deal—this would change everything. She’d made more money than she’d ever dreamed of from the first book’s sales. But taking her career to the next level would solidify her savings. It wouldn’t just start her niece’s college savings account, it would fill it with some left over for graduate school.

      The success, the financial stability—it was everything she’d wanted from her professional life. But while her publicist rambled on and on about the perfect outfit and if they should hire someone to do her makeup, Sadie’s mind drifted.

      What would Logan think if he knew? Would he look at her differently? Probably. She didn’t want to find out. She liked the way he looked at her now, as if part of him wanted to run away, but the other part couldn’t resist her. Not the bestselling erotica writer, but Sadie, the woman who loved apple pie and beer, who was struggling to be a good sister and who failed miserably when it came to farm chores.

      But in a few weeks, after the morning show, Sadie Bannerman would be forever tied to her erotica-writing alter ego. She would never walk away from the publicity. But still, the thought was a little daunting. Only a few more weeks of anonymity. Maybe less, if the news leaked before her morning show appearance.

      “How many people know that Sadie Bannerman is MJ Lane?”

      “Only a handful at Today in America,” her publicist assured her. “And a few at the movie studio.”

      “That increases the chance of someone finding out earlier,” Sadie said.

      “It does,” Anne-Marie agreed. “But aside from that one photographer who snapped a few shots of you entering your building months ago, the press isn’t actively pursuing the story.”

      Not yet, but that had to change if she wanted to lock down that movie deal.

      “Anne-Marie, you saw the pictures that photographer took, right?”

      “Yes. They were garbage. Mostly shot from behind. When his editor called I told him I could not confirm or deny your identity because I couldn’t see your face. We don’t need to worry about him.”

      “But if someone, an unnamed source, confirmed that the woman in the pictures is MJ Lane, the paper would run them?”