The Color of Love

Chapter Twenty-two

The Town Car let them off at the corner of Thirty-Fourth Street and Eleventh Avenue in Hell’s Kitchen behind a long line of double-parked cabs disgorging people in droves. Sidewalks and crosswalks were packed with people converging on the Javits Convention Center, a sprawling modern glass and concrete building four stories tall and as many deep, that extended for six blocks along Eleventh. Rows of hot dog and pretzel vendors were setting up on the curb and, given that the sky was overcast and threatening rain at any second, the ubiquitous vendors selling umbrellas from the back of vans had arrived as well. A carnival atmosphere prevailed despite the menacing skies.

“Looks like opening day in Cannes,” Derian remarked, resting her hand gently in the small of Emily’s back as they wound their way through the crowds.

“Prepare yourself for something very different,” Emily said, laughing.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have.” Derian imagined a long day of networking, the very idea of which made her want to head in the opposite direction. But she’d have Emily for company, and that made the dreariness more than tolerable. She was actually looking forward to the event.

When they made it through the long row of glass doors into the foyer, Derian drew a sharp breath. She’d known what to expect, but the assault was always the same. Huge spaces filled with people, banks of escalators going up and down, signs everywhere, and an overwhelming sense of disorientation. Even casinos had more orderly layouts than this place. Sweat gathered on the back of her neck. The initial panic was always the same.

“We just have to pick up our badges.” Emily, her voice bright with excitement, pointed to the registration area and a long row of booths in the far right corner.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited to be going to a conference,” Derian said, hurrying to keep up with Emily, who cut through the crowds like a cab on Seventh Avenue.

“Oh,” Emily said, arrowing in on her target, “this is a lot more than a conference. This is…everything—it’s what we’re all about. Not just what’s new in books, but how we make them, who’s reading them, and where the industry is headed.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to need an interpreter,” Derian said, “because I feel like a stranger in a strange land.”

Emily grasped her arm. “Don’t worry, you have a seasoned guide. The first time I attended with Henrietta I was the same way.”

“I doubt that—at least you speak the language.”

“You will too, soon. Until then, I’ll be your backup.”

“It seems like you’ve been doing that for me since we met.” Derian grimaced. “I’m usually not quite so useless.”

Emily paused and the crowd flowed around them, leaving them standing like a tiny island in a sea of frothing humanity. “You are less in need of aid than any person I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks, but I owe you—”

“No, you don’t. Caring is not something that comes with a price on it.”

“It is where I come from,” Derian said softly. “With everyone except HW. And now you. It will take some getting used to.”

“Work on it, then. Because I’m not going to stop.”

Emily spoke quietly, but her words carried deep into Derian’s soul. She wished they were anywhere but in a crowded convention hall right that moment. The desire to kiss her was a physical ache. “That’s good to know.”

“I want you to promise me something,” Emily said.

“Anything.”

“That you’ll stop looking at me like that for the rest of the day.”

Derian grinned. “That’s going to be very difficult for me to do, but I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Emily said, her voice a warm embrace. “Now come on. The Ws are at the far end.” She slid her hand behind Derian’s elbow, unobtrusively leading her past the snaking rows of people queued up in front of overhead signs. “Let’s find your line.”

When Derian got at the end of the line Emily indicated, she said, “I better wait here for you. If I try finding you, I’m likely to get turned around and end up wandering in here for forty years.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Emily smiled. “If you did, I’d find you.”

“Good to know.” Derian wasn’t used to anyone helping her out in these kinds of situations, but then she never let on how hard some things were for her.

“I’ll be right back, and then we’ll do a little reconnoitering,” Emily added. “This place is a big city, and it takes a little getting used to it.”

“I’m game,” Derian said. “Go ahead. I’m good.”

“I know.” Emily hurried to the appropriate row to pick up her badge, hating to leave Derian and feeling foolish for worrying at the same time. Derian was perfectly capable. She traveled the world, made her home in more cities than Emily ever hoped to visit, and wasn’t going to be overcome by the chaos of a convention center. As much as she knew all of that, she still hated to leave her. She wanted to be with her, not because Derian needed taking care of, but because she enjoyed being near her more than anything she’d ever experienced. She loved talking business with her, loved playing verbal games with her, certainly loved kissing her, and just found the world a brighter, more exciting place when she was with her. She loved—

“Can I help you?” A cheerful middle-aged man with a badge around his neck that said he was a volunteer smiled at her from behind the registration counter.

“Oh!” Emily wondered how long she’d been standing there. “I need to pick up my registration materials. Um, Emily May.”

“Certainly,” he said and began riffling through a long box of name cards. “Here we are.”

“Thanks.” Emily took the package automatically, not listening to his well-practiced rundown of what she could find inside the bag. Her thoughts were filled with Derian. She turned away to make room for the next person and made her way back to Derian. She didn’t see her at first and her heart leapt anxiously. Don’t be silly, she’s got a cell phone. She’s not going to get lost. All you have to do is call her.

Emily reached for the phone and then she saw her, leaning back against a pillar, her registration bag dangling from one hand, observing the crowd around her, a calm steady presence amidst the noisy jostling masses. A sensation of relief and something far greater settled into the center of Emily’s chest. Derian turned her head, and despite the dozens of people still milling back and forth between them, looked directly at her. Their gazes caught, and Emily recognized the tide rising within her. Oh no, how had this happened? Shouldn’t she have known, shouldn’t she have recognized it far before this? She loved everything about Derian Winfield, everything Derian made her feel, everything Derian made her dream. Everything Derian made her desire. All because she was falling in love with Derian Winfield.

Derian’s gaze pulled her through the crowd as if she’d reached out and taken her hand. Emily made her way to her, the sea of faceless people parting under the strength of their invisible connection.

“All set?” Emily tried for a casual tone she was far from feeling.

“Perfect.”

Derian’s hand was on her back again, a familiar movement Emily realized she’d come to love, like all of Derian’s other little casual touches that to her felt possessive and incredibly intimate. Oh, this was so, so not good. And yet so exactly what she wanted.

“Lead on, Tour Guide,” Derian said teasingly.

“Right.” Emily gathered her wits. “Right. We need to be—hold on”—she dragged out the thick program guide and searched the index—“third floor, section A-1028.” She dropped the book back into her bag and checked her watch. “We’ll have half an hour before they open the doors to the general attendees. Come on, we’ve got a lot to do.”

“We do?”

“Yep.” Emily grinned. “We get first crack at all the swag. Let’s go.”

“Swag?” Derian kept pace with Emily’s unerring twisting, dodging path through the crowds. She was clearly an expert at this. Only half joking, she said, “Don’t leave me.”

Emily laughed and glanced over her shoulder, jumping onto the escalator to the next level. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

At the top, they stepped off into an enormous space filled with aisle upon aisle of booths and books. Books everywhere—piled on tables, stacked on the floor, shelved behind counters, and overflowing from open cartons. There must have been five hundred booths and five hundred thousand books. The aisles were still relatively clear of people, with only handfuls scurrying up and down doing final setup. Big signs hung above the aisles with white letters and numbers like street signs. Derian’s chest tightened as she took in the foreign space and struggled to make sense of it. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to take me wherever we need to go. You can just leave me there while you do…whatever.”

“Absolutely not.” Emily took her hand. “You’ll be fine. Just stay with me.”

“Try getting rid of me,” Derian said.

“Besides, you’re elected to do the carrying. Here.”

“Uh…” Derian stared at the shiny multicolored bag with the cartoon image Emily handed her. “You want me to walk around carrying a bag with Captain Underpants on it?”

Emily laughed. “Those are in incredible demand and will be gone in half an hour. Whatever you do, don’t put it down anywhere.” As she spoke, she was dropping books into it.

“Are we stealing these?” Derian asked.

“No,” Emily said, handing her another bag, this one thankfully unadorned except for a publisher’s logo. “These are all advance reading copies. They’re free.”

“Why?” Derian grabbed a handful of Hershey’s Kisses from a bowl on a counter in front of a booth displaying computers running some kind of cataloging software.

“Marketing.” Emily smiled and accepted a catalog from a book rep as they passed by the next booth. “Librarians and booksellers are the largest segments of attendees. They’ll be looking for new titles to order in the upcoming year. Most of these booths are publishers, promoting their forthcoming catalogs. There’ll be a row of printers—not as many as there used to be, now that everything has gone digital—and companies selling software to handle metadata and royalties and whatnot.”

“Okay, I need a crash course, that’s pretty clear,” Derian muttered. “But first I’m gonna need more coffee.”

Laughing, looking young and happy and energized, Emily nodded. “We’ll have plenty of breaks between appointments. We’ve got three days to get you properly initiated.”

“I’m sorry I’m not going to be much help.” Derian grimaced and glanced around, realizing she had no idea which direction they’d come from or how to get back there. “And I’m something of a liability on top of that.”

“You absolutely are not,” Emily said fiercely. “Don’t ever say that again.”

The force of her words washed over Derian like a flurry of kisses. Her belly warmed and she had to remind herself about her promise of business only for the rest of the day. “I like it when you champion me. You make me feel special.”

“You are,” Emily said, still in battle mode. “And you are not the first person to feel lost in this place. I’m just used to it.”

“I’m okay,” Derian said, realizing she was. She’d find Emily if they got separated. One way or the other, she’d find her again. Emily kept her centered. “Come on, we’ve only got fifteen minutes left and there must be a few thousand more books you need to get.”

“At least.”

“Wait—what about those comics.” Derian pointed to a kiosk. “Can we get them?”

“Of course. Any preference?”

“Superheroes are always good. And paranormal. I don’t suppose there’d be any Patricia Briggs?”

Emily grabbed copies and dropped them into Derian’s bag. “There might be some of Briggs’s graphic novels over at Dynamite.”

As she spoke, Emily scanned the huge signs and kiosks and posters. “I think they’re down this way.” She grabbed Derian’s hand and tugged her in that direction. “Briggs is signing this afternoon, so they might not have anything available yet.”

At nine o’clock, a voice over the PA system announced the doors would be opening momentarily.

“That’s our cue,” Emily said. “We should grab some coffee, find our table, and get out of the way of the hordes.”

Derian shifted the bags into a more comfortable position on her shoulder. She figured Emily was exaggerating, but she was wrong. A minute later a tsunami of people poured off the escalators, flooding the aisles, rushing everywhere, filling bags with books and pens and bookmarks and free promotional items. “This place is a madhouse.”

Emily laughed, clearly delighted. “And everyone thinks book people are stodgy. You don’t want to get in the way of someone trying to get an advance copy of their favorite author in this place. You’re likely to get run down.”

“All we need are the hot-dog vendors and the carnival will be complete,” Derian said.

“Oh, they’ll be at the far back of the room. And I like hot dogs, so you can get me one later.”

Derian smiled. “My pleasure.”

And it was. Being with Emily gave her the inexplicable desire to hunt and gather and take care of her. Emily might not need her to do any of those things, but Derian planned on doing whatever she could to be sure Emily’s future was secure.

*

Derian made it to the hospital a few minutes before visiting hours ended, rapped on the partially open door, and walked into Henrietta’s room. HW was the only patient in there and was sitting up in bed with the newspaper spread out on the bedside stand in front of her. Some of her color had returned, but she looked thinner and, for the first time, older. Her fragility sent fear through Derian’s chest. “Sorry it’s so late, but I just wanted to stop by and make sure you weren’t driving the nurses crazy.”

“I’ve been behaving but they still won’t let me have my computer.”

“Good.”

Henrietta set the paper aside. “How did the appointments go?”

“Emily was happy. She seemed to think several of the deals were strong ones.”

“What did you think of the process?”

“It was a lot like a card game, not quite as interesting but—I could see the appeal.”

Henrietta laughed. “You’re right—a good negotiation is always a bit of a game.”

Derian paused, noting an extra IV pole. “Is it my imagination, or is there more equipment in here today than yesterday?”

“Oh, just some extra medication they added.”

“Why?”

“Nothing serious, just a little blood clot. The medicine will take care of it.”

Derian grew very still. “Blood clot? Where?”

“My right leg,” Henrietta said with a huff of disgust. “Apparently it happens when you don’t get up and move around enough. Although how I’m supposed to do that—”

“Okay, I got it.” Derian kept her voice calm. “How come no one called me about it?”

“It’s not like there was anything you needed to do,” Henrietta said. “It was far more important that you take care of business and not be distracted. I’m perfectly capable of making my own medical decisions now.”

“I want to talk to the doctor.” Derian turned to go.

Henrietta caught her arm. “He’s not going to tell you anything that I haven’t already told you. I need a course of anticoagulants—heparin—and then some oral medication after I get home. It’s not a major setback.”

“Are you telling me the whole story?” Henrietta was perfectly capable of downplaying the seriousness of the complication, but going head-to-head with her was not something she wanted to do.

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, but I’m still going to talk to him tomorrow.”

“Of course you are,” Henrietta said fondly. “So tell me all about today.”

Derian recounted everything she could remember about the meetings with the foreign rights agents. “Emily is writing everything up for you because she knows you’d want to know. But you have to promise to let us handle it.”

“How is that going? The two of you at the agency?”

“I’m surviving, but I’m pretty much useless.” Derian hadn’t told her about Donatella and didn’t intend to.

“I doubt that. You’re quick when you put your mind to it. And Emily knows what she’s about. The two of you should be able to handle anything.”

“Emily could handle anything without me,” Derian said.

“Everyone needs a sounding board, Derian. And given the circumstances, Emily needs your support.”

“She has it,” Derian said. “And the sooner we get things straightened out, the better.”

“As soon as I’m up and around—”

Derian shook her head. “No deal. You’re not going back to work, HW. Not until the doctors say, and until then, I’m in charge.”

Henrietta’s brows shot up, and the old fire kindled in her eyes. “Really? A coup, is it?”

Derian grinned. “You might think of it that way.”

Henrietta leaned back against the pillows, looking tired, but satisfied. “If I’d known I’d have to have a heart attack to get you into the office, I might have contemplated it previously.”

Derian leaned over and kissed her. “I’m sorry. If I’d known you needed me, I would’ve come.”

Henrietta stroked her cheek. “I know that, and you did come. I’ve always known that too.”

“It’s good to be here.” She never thought she’d say that, but then she never thought she’d want a lot of things she suddenly found she couldn’t stop thinking about. “I should let you get some sleep.”

“Don’t forget you have the National Book Awards coming up,” Henrietta said.

Derian winced. “Yeah. I saw that on the schedule. I don’t suppose—”

“Emily will need company—it’s always easier to network that way.”

“Oh.” Derian thought for a second she saw an amused glint in HW’s eye, but then it was gone. Any excuse for a night out with Emily was fine with her, even a stuffy awards ceremony. “Right. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I’m sure.” Henrietta laughed. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”