FOURTEEN

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Somehow, she powered through. She was sure she looked completely fried by the time Stein finally announced that they were done—a little earlier than she’d expected—but he seemed to be satisfied, and after he’d handed his camera to his assistant, he grasped Katie’s hand and nodded decisively.

“Everyone will be pleased,” he told her.

After all this? She certainly hoped so.

Once she’d been bundled into the car for the ride back to her parents’ house, she was able to close her eyes again, and she was tempted to count the minutes until she could forget about all this. But she was very aware of Doug’s presence on the seat beside her, and how he represented both safety and the possibility that Amanda would call again tonight, or tomorrow morning, with the news that she’d lined up more ways to interrupt Katie’s vacation.

“How much time do I have?” she asked without opening her eyes.

“Until—?”

“Do I get to rest at all?”

When he didn’t answer, she peeked at him, and past him, to see where they were. They still had a few miles to travel, but that wouldn’t take long. There was seldom any real traffic anywhere near Twin Falls.

Doug was looking out the window too. He seemed to be deep in thought.

“What does she want me to do?” Katie asked. “Do a whistle stop in all fifty states, like I’m running for president? Join the Spice Girls? What?”

“They’re working on the Tonight show.”

“When?”

“The day the Trend layout goes live.”

“And when is that?”

“They’re saying the eighteenth. That could change.”

“So… back to L.A.?” Katie sighed. “I guess that’s all right. It gives me a few days to breathe.”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t sound optimistic. In fact, he sounded like he was the bearer of bad news that he really didn’t want to deliver. As the car rolled through what passed for downtown in Twin Falls, with its collection of small stores and restaurants, she hoped he’d hold on to it at least until they reached her parents’ house—until she could sit with her mom and dad to listen to whatever it was that Doug was so reluctant to say.

She wasn’t being let go from Roomies. She was sure of that much. And she wasn’t sick. Her parents weren’t sick. That wasn’t the kind of news that would be coming from Doug, or from Amanda.

What, then?

“I think you should just tell me,” she blurted.

He took a long look at her. Seemed to peer deep down into her soul. She tried looking back, boring into those coffee-brown eyes for whatever information they might hold, but all she could find was something that looked like disappointment.

“Stop the car,” she told the driver.

Luckily, he didn’t object. Didn’t ask anyone else for permission. He simply pulled over the curb and shifted the car into park. An instant later, Katie was climbing out, pulling Doug along with her.

She’d chosen this spot deliberately. There was no one around; the buildings nearby were a real estate office that was dark for the evening and a former clothing shop that had gone out of business a while ago.

“Tell me,” she insisted.

“Katie—”

“You keep suggesting that this was just the beginning. These pictures, this big layout in Trend. The beginning of what? What’s she doing that nobody’s telling me about?”

Doug lifted a hand to his head but then didn’t seem to know what to do with it.

“If you don’t tell me, I’m not going to cooperate with anything she says. This stuff—this isn’t part of my contract with the show, so I’m not obligated to do it. I’m not, Doug. No matter how cosmically important she thinks it is.”

“Katie, I can’t—”

“Tell me.”

He let out a long, slow breath. It shuddered so much that he seemed to think it was the last breath he’d ever take.

“She wants you to be top dog,” he said quietly.

“Of what?”

“Of the show. She wants to push Ellery completely out of people’s consciousness. She wants the audience to tune in to Roomies to see you. And this photo shoot—she wants to shift you into movies. Small roles, but pivotal. Things you can do during hiatus. The kinds of things that win awards. That blow people’s minds. She thinks you’ve got that kind of talent.”

Katie had to shrug; it was all she could think of to do. Amanda had told her that sort of thing any number of times, but the only movie roles she’d been offered in the last two years were virtual clones of her role on Roomies: the goofy one, the sidekick. There’d been a few good scenes in some of the scripts, but certainly nothing that would blow anyone’s mind.

“She really thinks that’s possible?”

“You figure she’s the kind of person who does things just for the heck of it? Just to see what’ll happen?”

“No, but—”

“She believes it’s doable. And so do I.”

It was early evening now, quiet enough that Katie could let her mind wander a little. Her common sense resisted at first, but what Doug was saying—wasn’t that what she’d really wanted all along? Not just a lead role on a sitcom, but something that would earn her some real respect? Not awards, necessarily, but the respect of her peers. A nod of recognition from the people who’d been her idols all her life.

She wouldn’t get that from Roomies.

Not ever. Not if it lasted ten years. Not if every single episode revolved around her character. Laughter might make people feel good in the short term, but no one was likely to remember her years from now because of a half-hour comedy.

Norma Rae. Erin Brockovich.

People remembered those movies, and the women who had starred in them. It flashed through Katie’s mind that those characters had moved mountains, had made life better, safer, for others. They were heroes who’d started out in a simple way and then were overcome by their belief that something was truly wrong.

It would be kind of nice to play a hero. Not the action hero type, like Hew Hayes, but a simple person with principles.

“I’ve never tried anything like that,” she told Doug.

“Sure you did. That part you did on San Francisco Beat a few years ago—that was really good.”

“You saw that?”

“I did.”

“That show didn’t even last a whole season. How did you manage to see that one episode? And how do you remember it? I was only in a couple of scenes.” Katie shook her head. “I’m not sure I remember it.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

No, it wasn’t. She’d really enjoyed that part, even though it was an enormous cliché: the drug addict who risked her life to do the right thing because she was ashamed of what she’d become. The writing had been anything but stellar, but Katie had been determined to find the core of that character, and several people on the crew had told her afterwards that she’d put a lump in their throats.

She was still tired and hungry, but being away from Stein and his crew had relaxed her a little. Being here in the town she knew so well, with everything dim and peaceful around her, helped too.

The driver was waiting to take her the rest of the way home, but it was a beautiful evening, very mild, with the kind of light, fresh breeze she loved.

So, rather than get back into the car, she began to stroll along the sidewalk, peeking into the display windows, wondering if some new business would move into that empty clothing store, if her friend Ruthie’s parents still ran the sandwich shop, if getting an ice cream cone would be a bad idea.

Doug fell into step beside her. “It’s a nice little town.”

“It is. They’ve had trouble—the crash in 2008 really hit hard—but these are good people.”

“Stubborn?”

Katie laughed. “You could say that.”

“My grandfather owns a hardware store up in Porterville. In California. He’s been there forever.”

“You mentioned that. I remember. Is he stubborn too?”

“Had to be.”

He was enjoying the evening too; Katie could tell. His pace and posture were relaxed now, and he seemed as content as he’d been that night up on Mulholland Drive. Happy to be in the moment.

Happy to be with her.

She felt the same way.

“It’s a good life,” she said quietly. “Being in a place like this. Having a simple job, even if it’s one that takes up most of your time. I think you get a sense of satisfaction out of it that you don’t get from something bigger and flashier.” She paused to straighten the sweater she’d put on after she’d returned all those fancy clothes to the truck, and studied herself for a moment in the dark glass of a storefront. “I’ve been happy with everything, you know. Going to work every day. Being with good people.”

“But you’d like to know what it’s like to grab the brass ring.”

He seemed to understand that, sympathize with it. Maybe he even felt a little of that himself: that need to be more. To earn the respect of his peers—and his betters. That made Katie want to hug him the way she’d always hugged her friends as a child, because it was a way of showing them that she was accepting them into her life, that she’d share everything with them, both good and bad.

Mostly good, though. Back then, life had been mostly good.

“I would,” she said. “I don’t know if, once I get there—if I can get there—I’ll want to keep that up, but I’d kind of like to know what it’s like to be on top.” She smiled, remembering something she’d said up on Mulholland Drive. “To be the Big Kahuna.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” she admitted. “But they always tell you, you never know unless you try.”

“Even if it means giving up your hiatus?”

That made her wince. She’d really had a lot of plans for the next couple of months. Nothing very involved, no once-in-a-lifetime trips, nothing that couldn’t happen next year, or the year after, but she’d intended to spend almost the entire time someplace other than Los Angeles.

And now…

“Will you be around?” she asked hesitantly.

“Pretty sure I will be.” He smiled. “Like I said, if you need somebody to throw their weight around, I’m your guy. If you need a break. Or a better hotel room. Or your favorite bagels brought in from New York.”

That made her think of what Amanda had promised during the early days of Roomies, when it seemed likely that the show was going to keep rising in popularity. It had already been picked up for a full season, the ratings were high, and the press was paying attention.

“Whatever you need,” Amanda had told her. “Come to me. There’s no need for you to deal with a whole group of people—managers, publicists, whatever.”

Amanda had smiled then, and although it didn’t hit Katie quite right—it was something akin to a singer being slightly off-key—Amanda seemed to mean what she was saying. Seemed to have Katie’s best interests at heart. And it was true that she’d provided help with everything Katie had needed over the past few years, whether it was shoe repair, or where to buy a certain kind of cookware, the name of a masseuse, or a good place to take a friend for a birthday lunch.

Agents weren’t that helpful unless you were a really big name, people told her.

Or unless they believed you could become one.

Quietly, she told Doug about a Broadway show she’d wanted to see, one in which one of her favorite actors was starring for six weeks, during his own hiatus from his popular hospital show. “I really want to see that,” she said. “Can I fit that in? Everything else, I guess I could skip.”

“Consider it done.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Hotel, nice dinner, limo, the whole nine yards.”

“And you’ll go with me?”

It was almost fully dark now, and she almost didn’t see him flinch.

“I will,” he told her. “Now, maybe I should get you home.”