ELEVEN

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

All the color drained out of Katie’s face—he could see that even from across the room. He hadn’t expected to be welcomed with open arms, not this early in the morning, but that reaction was as good as a slap.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

It wasn’t that, he realized. This was a roomful of women, and while most of them were dressed in street clothes, Katie wasn’t. She was wearing an old t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, certainly not an outfit she’d want to be greeting him in. No bra, it looked like. White socks that were gray on the soles.

An older woman standing at the side of the kitchen was frowning at him. She wasn’t part of the team he’d brought out from L.A., so she had to be Katie’s mother, wondering how he’d gotten into her house.

“The front door was unlocked,” he stammered.

That nudged her into action. Looking as determined as any cop he’d ever seen up close, she ushered him out of the kitchen doorway, through the dining room, practically up to the front door.

“An unlocked door doesn’t mean ‘come on in’,” she announced.

“Sorry. I just wanted to make sure—”

“You’re part of this crew?” She looked him up and down, her frown still solidly in place. “From Hollywood?”

“I’m in charge of them.”

“Well, my daughter obviously doesn’t want you here.”

“I think she was just… surprised.” I hope she was just surprised.

He hadn’t spoken to Katie in… Was it a month? Not since shortly after their evening out, and for all he knew, she didn’t want anything more to do with him. It was perfectly believable that she was embarrassed by what had happened up on Mulholland Drive, even though she’d spent the limo ride back to her place smiling faintly and occasionally brushing her fingers against her lips when she thought he wasn’t looking. And here, in her home town, in her parents’ house…

Maybe she thought he was going to mention that night.

Maybe she thought he was going to try to pick up where they’d left off, there in her mother’s kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” he told her mother. “I guess I’m too used to just getting things done. There’s a lot going on today.”

“I’m aware.”

“And this is your home, not a soundstage.”

“Mm-hmm.”

She didn’t seem angry. She wasn’t calling the police, which was a definite plus. In fact, the more she spoke, the more she seemed like a mom who’d long ago gotten the hang of corralling a bunch of noisy, energetic kids and keeping them out of her kitchen when she was trying to get things done.

She’d folded her arms over her chest and was studying him sternly, but there was something in her eyes that reminded him of Katie, something that said once they’d gotten past this bump in the road, she’d be offering him a cup of coffee and a sticky bun.

But they weren’t past the bump yet.

“I’m sure Georgia and Holly have things well in hand,” he said quietly, trying his best to sound businesslike. “The wardrobe people are in the truck outside. They’ll be coming in in a little while.”

“All of this, just to take some pictures?”

“Important pictures. This photographer—it’s something that doesn’t happen to everyone. It’s a really big opportunity for her, something that could get her noticed by the right people.”

“Or not?”

“People looking for the right actress to star in their movie. It’s a really strange, quirky business, Mrs. Dunn. Good directors get ideas from all over the place. They want the right look. Something that captures their imagination. And not necessarily a big-name director. An indy movie that comes out of nowhere can be the next big thing. She’d like that, wouldn’t she? Starring in the next indy movie that sweeps the Academy Awards?”

He was sure she’d say “Oh, yes,” but she didn’t. In fact, the idea seemed to make her a little sad.

Of course.

She was Katie’s mom. Katie having a big-name career, being flown all over the world to star in box office hits, would mean she’d never have time to come home, to sit in her mom’s kitchen drinking coffee and gossiping about the neighbors. Hiking in the hills with her friends, maybe babysitting her nieces and nephews.

Meeting a small-town guy she’d want to marry.

Coming back to Twin Falls to live.

“Can I talk to you?”

The question had come from the kitchen doorway, where Katie was standing with a droopy cardigan wrapped over her t-shirt. Her hair was only partially done, and she wasn’t yet wearing any makeup. She was adorably messy. The way she might look on any ordinary morning before work, he supposed.

Before he could answer, she’d crossed the living room and was ushering him out the front door. Once the door was closed behind them, she struck up the same pose as her mother, arms folded over her chest, but she seemed puzzled, not annoyed. Still a little embarrassed, but mostly confused.

“What are you doing here?”

“Amanda sent me out to oversee the photo shoot.” She didn’t seem any less confused, so he asked, “You didn’t think she’d come out here herself, did you?”

He gestured at the white panel truck parked at the curb, a good-sized thing that contained the massive amount of wardrobe Amanda and her team had selected. The team themselves were in there too, waiting. Parked in front of it were the rental cars that had carried Georgia and Holly, and Doug himself.

“If Amanda had come out here,” he said, “it’d look like the invasion of the Visigoths. She’s have brought her entire entourage.” Not that this was a small undertaking. “There are a couple more trucks out at the location,” he admitted.

“And she’s paying for all of this.”

“Not for Stein’s crew. That’s Trend’s responsibility.”

Katie let out a long, slow breath and leaned back against one of the pillars that supported the front porch roof. “I thought I could get away from all of that by coming here.”

She seemed sadder now. Losing energy.

He didn’t dare tell her that approaching Trend had been his idea. That he’d spent almost two hours quizzing a friend who’d managed to land a job there, asking him what they were looking for this season, what their big push might be for the fall. Most of that was strictly proprietary information, things that would get Rick fired if he revealed them outright, but he could hint. He’d gotten good at that over the last few years: learning how he could suggest this or that. A tiny smile. The slightest tilt of his head. A pinch of his eyebrows.

It didn’t hurt that Rick loved Katie, although he’d never met her.

“She’s lush,” he’d told Doug.

So here they were. Setting up for a photo shoot that was costing tens of thousands of dollars.

“An investment,” Amanda had said.

Doug’s idea.

“Every star who’s worked with Stein says he brought out parts of them that they didn’t know existed,” he told Katie, aware that all of this was attracting the attention of the neighbors. He’d glimpsed a curtain moving, the flash of a brightly colored shirt as someone moved across their yard. “He really is a genius.”

“So this is a huge opportunity. I know.”

There was more coming, too. Things he didn’t dare tell her about, that Amanda—without even saying the words—had warned him not to tell her about. Some of it was still in the works, some of it nothing more than an idea, but they’d set a train in motion, one that was going to build up speed throughout what Katie had thought was going to be her time off.

It wasn’t impossible that she’d end up hating Amanda for doing this.

Hating him, if she found out what he’d done.

 

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

 

“This. And this,” Amanda had said, moving a glossy fingertip down the list Doug had given her. “Not this.”

Then she’d lifted her head.

Smiled at him.

To anyone who didn’t know her, hadn’t worked closely with her for months, it wouldn’t even be noticeable. But Doug had known she was pleased. There was just enough of a satisfied note in her voice to tell him he’d chosen just the right roads to go down—or rather, to haul Katie Dunn down. It didn’t matter that she was eliminating some of his possibilities (or why she was doing it); the overall result was that he’d done well, and Amanda saw promise in him.

“Can you accomplish all this?” she’d asked evenly.

Doug had leaned in just enough to touch one of the items on the list. “That one might need a phone call from you. Of course, all of them would benefit from a phone call from you, but we can make it happen either way. These are all places with a mouse hole, a way in that we can exploit. Everything you like from that list, we can do.”

Amanda’s expression changed from satisfaction to admiration, though it still wouldn’t have been noticeable to a stranger.

Then she stood up from her desk, stepped out from behind it, and strolled over to the window. She was as sleek and colorful as an exotic bird standing there, perched on her needle-like high heels, the hair she had touched up twice a week lying artfully arranged over her shoulders.

“Douglas.”

He went to join her, standing at a respectful distance.

“You’re fond of her.” It wasn’t a question. “It’s understandable. She’s a lovely, charming young woman.”

“Yes.”

“There’s no place for you. With her.”

He didn’t dare react. To wince, or bite his lip, or look disappointed. He was almost positive Amanda didn’t know what had happened up on Mulholland Drive a few nights ago, but that didn’t matter. She’d picked up his interest in Katie, which went beyond the professional. Even though the rules forbade things like that, she was certainly aware that it happened, that her employees became interested in the people they represented. That there were dates, and kisses, and trysts, and once, even an engagement.

But she was right.

There was no place for him in Katie’s life, not if he wanted to become Amanda’s right hand.

He couldn’t even hope to make that balancing act work.

“You’ll need to endure being hated,” Amanda told him, looking him in the eye. “Envied, mostly. But hated, too. Competition is the life blood of this industry, and you’ll need to compete every minute of the day. You’ll need to want to compete. You’ll want this”—she gestured around her with a slight movement of her hand—“as badly as any football player wants that big gold ring.”

Sitting behind her on the corner of her desk was a framed photograph of the man who had made all this possible: the late Karner Reign, the man who’d given her the money and influence she needed. Amanda almost never mentioned him except in passing, but once in a while, Doug noticed her looking at that picture. Nothing in her expression ever changed, but he knew somehow, deep down, that Amanda had actually adored her husband. Not just because of what he’d given her, but for what he’d been. A good man.

A man who’d adored her in return.

Now he was gone, and she was admired, respected, and feared in this town. A few people actually liked her—Doug himself among them—but she had to miss her husband. Had to miss being loved.

It was quiet there in the office. Amanda liked it that way.

Maybe it was that. Maybe it was something else, but Doug felt suddenly bold.

“Are you fond of her?” he asked.

Amanda’s eyebrows moved a little. For what seemed like quite a while, she didn’t say anything, although the fingers of her left hand were moving.

“I am,” she said finally. “Let’s make her shine.”

 

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

 

Let’s make her shine.

Doug had actually arrived in Twin Falls almost a week ago, with Stein’s advance team. They’d spent the time scouting locations and emailing photographs back to L.A., with Doug growing so nervous that he could barely eat and slept only a little. If Stein decided the area was no good, they’d have to find somewhere else for him to shoot, and quickly, but Doug had thought—and Amanda had agreed—that Katie’s home town would make a wonderful backdrop for the Trend layout and interview.

It didn’t actually have twin waterfalls, he’d discovered almost immediately. The second one had dried up decades ago, but one of them was still there, with enough water running through it thanks to spring runoff that it would work nicely in the pictures. The area around it was rocky and dotted with pine trees. Thanks to the warm spring weather, some early wildflowers had popped up, and everything looked rich and fertile.

Lush, Doug thought.

Maybe Stein would go for that vibe: portraying Katie not as a typical Hollywood waif, but someone who was healthy, vibrant, coming into her own. Doug had tried to drop a few hints to that effect, but no one on Stein’s team had given him any indication that they were listening.

What Stein would actually do was anyone’s guess.

“We just have to trust him,” he told Katie now. “Don’t worry. I haven’t heard a single complaint about him, at least as far as the final shots are concerned. He’s kind of rude, but what else is new? He’ll probably work you until you’re ready to drop, but everyone says the results are worth it.”

Someone driving by honked their horn at Katie. She seemed to know who it was, and waved in acknowledgment.

“All right,” she said when the car was gone. “I trust you.”

Then she turned and went back into the house. She closed the door behind her, but he hoped that that was more to keep the heat inside than to shut him out. On the other hand, neither she nor her mother seemed to want him to play any sort of role in getting her ready for the photo shoot. For the moment, he had nowhere to go, and nothing constructive to do.

Hands in his pockets, he wandered down the walkway to the curb, gave the crew inside the wardrobe truck a thumbs-up, then looked idly up and down the street where Katie had grown up.

It’s a good place, he thought.

An honest place.

And if that was true, it could end up that most of the people in this town would dislike him when the summer was over and Katie had gone back to work on Roomies.

Because he was being anything but honest.