PROPINQUITY (noun):
affinity of nature; similarity
CHAPTER THREE
THINGS LOOKING UP FOR AUTHOR?
Earlier today in New York City's criminal courthouse, author Richard Castle pled guilty to charges of public intoxication, indecent exposure, and theft of police property. These charges stemmed from an incident three weeks ago in which he drunkenly stole an NYPD police horse and rode it through Central Park, while nude. Sources state his guilty plea came with a $10,000 fine. He will also have to serve 500 hours of community service. Details regarding the community service were not available.
Meanwhile, Mr. Castle has been laying low, mostly staying out of the spotlight since his last incident at the Robin Hood Foundation's annual fundraising gala two weeks ago involving three paid escorts.
Is the bad boy author finally turning over a new leaf? Or will he revert back to his old ways now that the naked police horse incident is, well, behind him?
"I swear to God, Mom, I know he's your favorite author and all, but you'd change your mind if you met him." Kate groaned when she slipped off her shoes, sinking the four inches the heels had added. She shivered; it was early June, but the New York summer hadn't quite arrived, and she snagged a pair of socks from her entryway bureau to slip over her chilled feet.
"You forget that I have met him."
Kate heard the smile in her mom's voice, and she couldn't help but smile as well. Her mom had gone to almost every one of Castle's book signings, and Kate had accompanied her to one, but not met the author herself. Besides that one, though, and a second one several years prior that Johanna had missed due to a case involving a slain FBI agent, Johanna Beckett had attended every single book signing. And she'd squealed - actually squealed - when Kate had told her that he was her new client.
"This is different," Kate insisted. "He's different. He's arrogant, and childish, and such a jackass."
"Who writes great books."
"Mom, I'm serious."
"Me too." There was no more teasing in Johanna's voice. "Katie, listen to me. Jackass or not, the man is a great writer, and he's been fairly professional at his signings. It's your job to improve his image, right? So Black Pawn doesn't dump him?"
"Yeah."
"So improve his image."
"It's just…" Kate trailed off and plopped onto the couch, bringing her free arm up to cover her eyes. She was 28-years-old, extremely successful in her budding career, yet she knew she could count on her mom to tell her what she needed to hear. Especially when it was something she already knew but was too stubborn to acknowledge. "He's impossible to work with. He argues at every turn, refuses to listen, then doesn't understand why people get upset. It's infuriating."
Johanna smiled. "You like him."
"No I don't. I can't stand him. If they weren't paying me so much I'd quit."
"I don't think you would, Kate," Johanna retorted. "You've never backed down from a challenge. Ever. And I don't expect you to now. Just give it time, sweetie. You'll get there. In the meantime, do you think you can get me an advance copy of his next book?"
"Mom!"
A few mornings later, she was winding down her daily post-treadmill yoga routine, enjoying the silence when her phone buzzed. Normally she didn't answer it; her assistants were all under strict instructions not to call between 5 and 6 in the morning unless it was an absolute emergency. It was the one hour in the day she allowed herself for complete isolation. But when she glanced at the screen and saw her partner's name, she unfolded her legs and grabbed it before it went to voicemail.
"Lanie," she says by way of greeting, a little out of breath from holding some of the more difficult poses. Yoga helped calm her down after her run, but it was still a workout in and of itself. "What's wrong?"
Lanie Parish sighed. "Have you read the paper?"
"Not yet, why?"
"Your boy's in it again."
"Shit," Kate muttered under her breath, and moved into the kitchen, where she'd dropped the Ledger after snagging it from her doorstep. She immediately turned to Page Six, and swore again when she saw yet another unflattering mug shot of one Richard Castle. She skimmed the accompanying blurb, her mouth dropping at the words. "This is a joke, right?"
"Nope. Javi confirmed it, too. Apparently Writer Boy's the talk of his precinct. They're taking bets on whether or not he'll get jail time."
Kate groaned and leaned over the counter, suddenly nauseous. She wasn't a lawyer - Castle had those already, civil and criminal - but she knew this was bad. "What the hell am I going to do with him?"
"Beats the hell out of me, Kate. But you should probably call his lawyer and get Castle out of there."
"Fuck." She hung up and jumped in the shower, called Gina while she was getting dressed. She knew the publisher wouldn't be happy, but Gina was absolutely livid.
"It's your job to keep him out of trouble, Kate," Gina snapped. "But he's been in more trouble since we hired you than he has in the past year."
"I know, Gina," Kate responded, slipping her shoes on. "I'm on my way to talk to his lawyer now, see if we can get him out right after his bail hearing."
"You better. You're supposed to be the best, Ms. Beckett. Don't make me regret hiring you."
After a short meeting, Kate accompanied Castle's lawyer to the Twelfth precinct, where Castle was being held. She was absolutely fuming; Castle had promised her no more shenanigans, but the NYPD didn't treat public urination lightly.
Especially considering where he'd done it.
Kate said nothing in the two hours before the bail hearing; she simply sat and glared at her client while he boasted about the fun he'd had the previous night.
She didn't say anything until after he was released on bail, and by the time they got back to the lawyer's office, Castle was practically dead on his feet. Her anger had slowly dissipated from wanting to strangle her client to simply wanting to punch him, but she was still pissed. Pissed enough that she was tempted to let Castle get home on his own, despite the obvious hangover that had him groaning and squinting his eyes against every little noise.
The doorman to Castle's building, Eduardo, she'd learned the week before, helped wrestle Castle from the car and get him to the elevator. Castle was half-conscious by that time, the brief car ride apparently long enough to lull him partially to sleep. Kate managed to keep him awake as she accompanied him to his floor; after all, there was no point in adding "Author Blacks Out in Own Elevator" to the tabloid's headline possibilities.
"Come on, Castle," she commanded when the elevator stopped at his floor, her tone sharp as she grabbed his arm. "Let's get you to bed."
Castle bent down slightly, his forehead finding the crown of her head. "You gonna join me, Kate?" he asked, his words slightly slurred. His hand found its way to her ass and he squeezed, chuckling at her surprised yelp.
Kate winced, the stench from his partying and resulting overnight stay in jail invading her senses even more than it already had.
The man needed a shower.
She managed to breathe through her mouth even as she led him to his door. Last time she was here she'd insisted on knowing where the spare key was, and she was pleased to find out he hadn't moved it. "When hell freezes over," she retorted as she let them in. She let go of his arm and pushed him in the direction of what she assumed was his bedroom. "Now, shower and get some sleep. I'm sure Gina will want to see you later."
After a brief stop at home to change - she felt disgusting after having Castle leaning against her - she headed to Black Pawn to meet with Gina. The woman wasn't very pleased with her, and Kate couldn't blame her; after all, Castle had been her client for three weeks, and very little had changed. If anything, the public perception of him had gotten worse.
"What now, Kate?" Gina snapped as soon as she closed the conference room door, before either of them even sat down. "How are you going to fix this?"
Kate took her place opposite Gina and folded her hands on the table in front of her. "I have a call in to-" She was interrupted by her phone, and when she read the caller ID, she picked it up. "Speaking of. This is Kate Beckett," she said into the phone.
"Ms. Beckett, this is Elizabeth Adams, I am the head of the New York chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution. I'd like to talk to you about Richard Castle."
Kate nodded, even though the older-sounding woman couldn't see her. "Yes, thank you for getting back to me. I would like to apologize on behalf of Mr. Castle for his actions. What he did is despicable, and my partner is preparing a contract stating that he will pay for cleaning and potential repairs to the tombstone."
"We'd like for him to do more," the other woman said sharply. "We have a fundraiser this weekend, and we've decided to drop the charges if he agrees to be the keynote speaker. And behaves, of course."
Kate managed to repress the relieved sigh that threatened to escape. "That's very generous, Ms. Adams. When can you meet to discuss the details?"
"As soon as you can be here."
Kate wrote down the address she was given, looking up at Gina when she hung up. "They'll drop the charges if Castle helps them fundraise," she explained.
One of Gina's eyebrows lifted. "That's good. You go with him and keep him in line. Make sure he doesn't make an ass of himself like he did last time. And Kate?" she continued when Kate stood to leave.
"Hmm?"
"Keep him away from the paid escorts."
"I'll do my best." Kate was walking through the lobby when she spotted Castle stepping through the doors. He looked a little better than he had earlier that morning; he'd cleaned up, although the sunglasses he wore probably helped stave off the effects of the hangover she was sure lingered. "Come on, Castle," she snapped at him, grabbing the sleeve of his sweater on her way by.
Castle stumbled a little at the abrupt change in direction, but regained his balance quickly. "I have a meeting with Gina," he protested, but Kate kept walking, her fingers curled in his sleeve.
"Nope, you're coming with me." She shoved him into her waiting town car and slid in next to him, gave the driver the address.
"Where are we going?"
"Your little stunt last night was embarrassing."
"I'm sorry if you're embarrassed-"
Kate scoffed and turned to glare at him. "Me? Oh, I'm not embarrassed. But you should be. You're lucky, though, because you might be able to get off charge-free on this one. The DAR is willing to drop charges if you attend their fundraiser this weekend. You'll also be paying for cleaning and any potential repairs."
"DAR?"
"Daughters of the American Revolution. You pissed them off."
"That's it? Just smooch and kiss the asses of some old ladies obsessed with the past?"
Kate shot him another look as the car pulled up to an office building on the Lower East Side. "You got drunk and pissed on the grave of Alexander Hamilton, Castle. A Founding Father. You're lucky if that's all you have to." She barely waited for him to catch up with her when she walked into the lobby. "You're also lucky I bailed you out, otherwise you'd probably still be in jail, waiting for arraignment."
Castle stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, and she turned her head to see him staring at her with confusion, and maybe a little wonder, spread across his features. "You bailed me out?"
"Don't worry. Castle. It's been added to your invoice, a portion of which I'm sure Black Pawn will be happy to pass on to you." She plucked his hand off her shoulder and turned her back to him again, expecting him to follow. She heard his shoes fall into step behind her; good, maybe the man was learning. "Just sit back and let me do my job."
"...and with that, I implore you to find room in your hearts, and wallets, to donate. Whether you donate your money, time, or simply spread the word, it will help the DAR ensure the continued survival to some of the most important landmarks that help tell the story of our great country. Thank you."
Kate stood at the back of the room as the attendees of the dinner applauded, her arms crossed, but her lips flirted with a smile. The speech that Castle had prepared was surprisingly eloquent; when he'd been told he would be the keynote speaker, he'd scoffed, but had agreed once he'd been reminded of potential jail time if he didn't.
Of course, his finding out that the DAR was not only made up of, "old ladies obsessed with the American Revolution," as he'd put it, helped. While the New York City chapter's president was a woman in her sixties who reminded Kate of her stern high school English teacher, the rest of the board was made up of a fairly equal blend of women approaching retirement age, and young women in their twenties and thirties.
And Castle had flirted with each and every one of them.
She watched as he shook hands and made his way across the room. True to his word, he hadn't had a drop of alcohol to drink, and his smile had none of the insincerity she'd seen during their various meetings with Gina and Paula. It looked genuine, and even from several yards away she could see the way it lit up his face as he laughed and talked with the women surrounding him.
She glanced over at the bar, itching for a glass of something, even champagne. She wouldn't, though; not only was she technically working, but if she had a glass now, it would simply be to give her hands something to do. And while she did drink, mostly socially, she refused to use it as a coping mechanism.
She'd seen, first-hand, the damage it could do.
Kate was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear or see Castle approach her, and she jumped when his fingertips brushed against her bare arm. "Jesus, Castle," she breathed, fixing a glare in his direction.
Castle cocked an eyebrow. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he responded, his voice a little sharp, almost defensive.
Kate just rolled her eyes. "You didn't. Just startled me. Your speech was nice," she said to change the subject.
"Yeah, well, reading shit I write is just part of the job." His gaze roamed the room briefly before settling back to her.
"Nice." Kate shifted to try to stretch her back a little, and didn't miss the way Castle's eyes darkened and flicked down her body. The dinner was a formal affair, and she was dressed in a long, blue ballgown, strapless, with a slight shimmer when she moved. Castle had simply blinked at her when she'd shown up at his door, and she tried to ignore how good he looked in his tux, tailored perfectly around his broad shoulders.
"So, what now?" Castle asked after a few moments. His speech had been towards the beginning of the event; a silent auction would follow, but his speaking duties were done for the night. All that was expected of him was to schmooze, and presumably write a check.
"Now-" Kate pushed herself off of the wall and headed towards the silent auction table. "You open your checkbook."
After the results of the silent auction were announced - although he hadn't won anything, Castle agreed to donate the amount of his bids regardless - Kate collected him from where he flirted with a handful of young ladies, and herded him out to their waiting limo.
"Where to now?" Castle asked as they slid inside, bouncing slightly in his seat like an excited boy.
Kate shut the door behind her and settle in for the short ride to his building. "I'm taking you home."
Castle winked at her. "Taking me home, huh? Your place or mine?" At Kate's glare, he simply shifted closer so his thigh rested against hers. "Come on, Kate. You were checking me out tonight. Don't say you're not even thinking about it."
"Yeah right."
"You're not even a little curious to see if those pictures from my naked arrest measure up to the...real thing?"
Kate scoffed and turned to look out the window at the city passing them by. "In your dreams, Castle."
"Look at my life," he retorted, holding his arms out. "My dreams come true."
"Fuck you."
"Some day, Kate."
A/N: As usual, many thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read/leave feedback, and my debt to Callie for betaing can never be repaid, but I will try.
