Chapter 46: In Which Katie Finds Herself On The Cusp Of Fame

"So!" Eoin leaned back and lay with his back against the roof, looking up at the sky. "Who's up for breakfast?"

"Me!" Rebecca crunched on the last of the Smarties. "I could really use some pancakes. On our way we could check on the fliers, make sure the posters got up in key spots."

"I don't know," Katie yawned again. It seemed wrong to go against the wishes of her client, but she was so tired her body was shaking. "I wouldn't mind getting to bed. After all, I have to work tomorrow. I mean, today."
                             
"Bed?" Rebecca wrinkled up her cute, pug nose. "That's no fair. You two have one another and I'm just a lonely single lady....." she slapped Katie on the thigh. "Breakfast it is!"

Katie sighed and gave Eoin a baleful look, but he just shrugged. "Don't look at me. I'm the one who suggested it."

"Don't worry, hon. I'll call in sick for ya," Rebecca told Katie. "I won't make someone with your genius work for 24 hours straight."

The three of them headed over to the Vesta Lunch, a 24 hour diner where old bearded men and hungover (and, to be fair, some still-drunk) youth sat hunched over plates of bacon and eggs along a narrow counter. The three of them slid onto stools and while Rebecca and Eoin ordered them all pancakes and coffee, Katie called Melissa.

"How's it going?" Katie asked. "We drove to the Vesta and saw some of your posters along Bathurst. This is so exciting!"

"I know," Melissa yawned. "You guys went for breakfast? Erica and I called it quits a couple of hours ago."

"Do you know what Paul and Mike are up to?"

"Last I heard they'd decided to put the little hotels around the CN Tower. And I think they went to some after-hours clubs along Church Street to put up the fliers."

"So they went dancing on the job?" Katie laughed.

"I think it was just a detour," Melissa said. "But they called me a few minutes ago to say they'd distributed everything, so I think they did a good job."

"I hope so." Katie glanced toward Rebecca and Eoin. "I'm actually pretty nervous. What if this fails?"

"It's a brilliant campaign, Katie," Melissa reassured her friend.

"Is it? I really hope it works."

"It will," Melissa said, then yawned again. "Listen, I have to go. I've got a meeting at 10 this morning and I need a few hours of sleep."

"Okay. Thanks so much for everything," Katie said.

"Sure, sure. Just get me a drink or something next week."

"Of course," Katie promised, and went back to Eoin and Rebecca as the pancakes appeared.

They were about half-way through their meals when the waitress appeared. "Do you guys mind if i put on the television? It's 6:30 and I'd like to catch the news."

"Sure!" Eoin said enthusiastically. He turned to Rebecca. "I don't have a television so this is a real treat."

"Some people are easily pleased," Rebecca raised an eyebrow.

The television came to life and a chipper young newswoman in a red jacket was standing in front of the CN Tower, holding something in the palm of her hand. "So the question on everyone's lips is, who is responsible for these little miniature buildings that have blanketed our city?"

Eoin gripped Katie's arm. "Those are yours! Your hotels!"

"So there is no hint about where they came from?" An anchorman asked the outdoor reporter from his comfortable, indoor set.

"Not that we can see," the newswoman said cheerfully.

"Turn it over," moaned Katie quietly. "Why won't she turn it over?"

The camera pulled back and showed dozens of little hotels scattered around the walkway leading up to the CN Tower.

"Well, thanks for this interesting story, Jackie." The anchorman said as the image cut out and focused on him in his studio. "Toronto, an artist seems to be on the loose! Keep your eyes open this morning as you head out for work. Someone has put little tiny houses all over our fair city!"

Little tiny houses? An artist on the loose? Katie's guts went all icy and she glanced at Rebecca. How would she react?

Luckily, Rebecca was smiling widely. "This is amazing! We did it!"

"But they don't know what the hotels are for...." Katie tried, tentatively.

"Oh, that's okay," Eoin said. "You wouldn't want them to know right away, anyway. This builds up the mystery."

"Check it out!" Rebecca held up her phone; it was on a news site. "People are talking about the spray paint already!"

Over the next few hours Katie forgot sleep entirely. She and Eoin went back to her house where they watched the local news and followed news sites, Twitter (#guerillahotel), and Facebook. By noon even the Huffington Post had an article! People were putting the posters, the fliers, the hotels and the graffiti together, and  the response was mostly positive, although one or two Twits seemed irritated when they discovered it was an ad campaign.

This isn't real art it's selling out #guerillahotel #lies, complained @hiptastic. My heart broke when I learned it's all propaganda #guerillahotelsux, said @torontoartist.

"Did you see these?" Katie showed her computer to Eoin. "They hate me."

He rolled his eyes. "All art is propaganda. And if it makes an impact and makes people think, it's not selling out. Selling out would have been a boring commercial or something. What you did is true," Eoin pulled her in for a hug and she felt such relief. She'd never tell him, but she really, really wanted Eoin, a real, honest artist, to respect her.

"Thanks, Eoin." She settled herself against his chest and heard his heart beat; her own heart began to quicken. She breathed in his scent, closed her eyes. She didn't have to go to work. She was tired, of course, but sleep could wait....She reached up and began to kiss him, climbing into his lap, his hands reaching up under her shirt --- RING! RING!

"You should get that," he murmured, but Katie just kept kissing.

"It's probably a telemarketer," she said, tugging on his t-shirt.

"You're an artist now, Kate." He held her wrists and look at her, serious. "This could be important."

Reluctantly Katie got her phone. "Hello?"

"Katie Christensen?"

"Speaking," she said, ready to tell whoever it was that she wasn't interested in a new cable package.

"This is Margaret Vogel," she heard instead. " I'm a producer for As It Happens, a national CBC radio show, and we're quite excited about the ad campaign you've come up with for the new line of boutique hotels in Toronto. We wonder if you'd be available for a radio interview? Tomorrow evening, around 8?"

Katie stood in her living room, her pants unbuttoned, shivering in her bra. She didn't say anything, just stared at Eoin, who was fully dressed again, smiling patiently from the couch.

"Katie?" Margaret said. "Are you there?"

"Just thinking," Katie said. She jammed her hand over the mouthpiece. "They want me on As It Happens!" Katie hissed to Eoin. "Tomorrow night!"

"That's great!" he whispered back. "Say you'll do it!"

"I can't." Katie's heart fell. "It's your art opening. It's at the exact same time as the opening."

You Decide! 

Katie skips Eoin's art opening to do the radio interview.

OR

Katie skips the radio interview to attend the art opening.