These Boots Were Made For Stomping

by Julie Kenner

  Thomas put out a hand. “Hold on, don’t jump to conclusions. Maybe Collin doesn’t know the company’s tactics. After all, heartbreaker though he may be, he doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to blackmail and malign people, just to get them to sign movie deals.”

  Hailey considered this. “No, I guess not. But we know he visited the ninja agents during the day. And then there was a ninja outside his hotel room that night. Seems fishy to me.”

  “Well, I’m not saying he doesn’t have dealings with them,” Thomas agreed. “He’s a producer; he probably deals with a ton of agents every day. But maybe he doesn’t know this particular agency’s methods. Who knows—maybe they offered him Hiro’s movie rights on a silver platter, without giving him any clue on how they planned to acquire those rights. Any Hollywood hottie with half a brain would jump at that offer, right? It’s only the deal of the century, after all.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Hailey mused. “I mean, as much as any of this does.” She looked over at Thomas. “So, what do we do now?”

  “I guess we talk to Hiro. Though he doesn’t speak much English. We’ll need to find someone to interpret.”

  “But Hiro’s hanging out with the Darken people.”

  Thomas nodded. “Exactly.” He looked at Hailey pointedly.

  She shook her head. “Oh no. No, no, no. I am so not going to kiss up to Collin just to gain access to Hiro.”

  Thomas stopped walking and turned to her. “You’d rather let some guy lose all his life’s work than go ask a favor of your ex-boyfriend? The one, may I remind you, that you were so hot and heavy on just yesterday?”

  Hailey sighed. “Well, I . . .” There was no argument Thomas was going to be okay with; she might as well give in and go. And, to be fair, a certain part of her did realize, deep inside, that it would be a good excuse to talk to Collin again. “Fine,” she relented. “I’ll go. But first we need to motor if we’re going to have our signing on time.”

  “Collin, my man, I don’t know how you did it, but you indeed did it, and for that I am utterly grateful.” Mr. Tubbs, Collin’s boss and the vice president of the studio, slapped him on the back so hard Collin almost fell over.

  “Well, I’m happy you’re happy,” he replied after regaining his balance. He threw his boss a big fake smile—the kind he’d become famous for. “I agree that Hiro’s a great addition to next summer’s blockbuster lineup.”

  “A great addition? He’s the fucking headliner!” Mr. Tubbs cried. “Every studio and their decrepit old grandmother have been trying to get this guy to sell his soul to the devil for years now. But the artiste”—Mr. Tubbs sneered at the word—“well, he was just too high and mighty and artsy for the likes of us. Goddamn comic-book artists thinking they’re freaking Michelangelo or some shit.”

  “Hiro’s a manga artist,” Collin corrected, knowing he should keep his mouth shut. “There is a difference.”

  “He draws silly pictures for a living—pictures with speech bubbles over the character’s heads, don’t he?” Mr. Tubbs scoffed. “That makes him a comic book–maker in my book.” He slapped Collin on the back again. “But you, Collin, my main man, you did it. You got that bastard to finally sign on the dotted line. We’ve got the next goddamn Pirates of the Caribbean franchise on our hands and it’s all thanks to you.”

  Collin wasn’t sure how to respond. All day he’d been getting this type of congrats from the bigwigs at Darken Pictures. The president of the company had even called him up to thank him personally for bringing Hiro to Darken. He was the man of the hour. The studio savior. The one who’d won over the manga whiz kid after nearly a decade of wrangling.

  So, why couldn’t he be happy about it?

  Two reasons came to mind. One was the weird circumstances in which it had all gone down. What people like Mr. Tubbs didn’t know was that Collin hadn’t even approached Hiro with an offer. He’d been handed it on a plate by the guy’s people—The MeyioSeraph Agency—which Collin hadn’t even heard of before today. They’d approached him out of the blue, told him they represented Hiro’s movie rights, and asked him if he’d be interested in making a deal. At first Collin had laughed, thinking it was some kind of joke his coworkers had orchestrated. But as they continued to talk, he realized they were indeed serious. And they were willing and able to seal the deal.

  Collin wrote up the contract then and there. Money was no object when it came to getting Hiro on the summer lineup. And now everyone was giving him huge kudos for the easiest deal of his life.

  And then there was reason number two he couldn’t be happy. Hailey.

  He hadn’t slept a wink last night, tossing and turning and thinking of their “almost” encounter and how it ended. He felt so horrible—obviously moving too fast and scaring her away. It was the last thing he’d wanted to do. But she’d looked so beautiful and she seemed really into it all—until she leapt up, ran for ice, and came back fifteen minutes later with a sheepish look on her face.

  Did she think he was some kind of monster? Someone who only wanted her for her body? How could he explain to her how much she meant to him? Heck, he would have been happy just to wrap her in his arms and cuddle her all night, keeping her warm and safe and protected. He’d only gone for more because she seemed to want it. She’d instigated most of it, for God’s sake.

  And then she’d gotten cold feet. Just like on her wedding day. At least this time she hadn’t come up with some crazy alien-abduction story to cover for it.

  Just stay away from her, an inner voice lectured. She’s nothing but trouble.

  He squared his shoulders and firmed his resolve. He’d listen to that voice. He’d stop thinking about Hailey and start being happy about his huge success with Hiro. Today should be the best day of his life. And he wouldn’t let her ruin it.

  Mr. Tubbs punched him in the shoulder once more with feeling, and told him he’d catch him later, walking off and leaving Collin alone in the booth. He wondered what he should do with his afternoon, now that all his work was done. More than anything he just wanted to go back to his hotel room and take a nap. With Hailey cuddled up beside him, preferably. But that wasn’t going to happen. In fact, likely he wouldn’t run into her for the remainder of the convention. And that was for the best.

  “Hey, Collin!”

  Looked like “the best” wasn’t in the stars. He turned to face her, masking his excitement with a stern look. No need to let her know how excited he was to see her again.

  “Wasn’t expecting to see you today,” he said in his coolest voice. What was she up to now? Was she here to apologize for the night before? Not that she needed to apologize for not wanting to have sex, of course. He understood, under the circumstances. But the lies. The excuses. The lack of respect she showed him once again. He’d be okay with an, “I’m sorry” for that.

  She blushed, dropping her gaze. Probably embarrassed about her behavior. As well she should be, he reminded himself.

  Against his better judgment, Collin’s eyes took her in, giving her a thorough head-to-toe evaluation. She was dressed more conservatively then yesterday, in an adorable red schoolgirl smock with gray leggings and black Mary Jane platform shoes buckled onto her feet. He stifled a groan. The innocent outfit almost turned him on more than her much more sexy apparel of the day before, and he felt his groin respond—a part of him that didn’t give two shits about apologies and remorse. Yes, while his head was tied up in knots and excuses, his cock was fired up and ready to go anytime the girl said the word.

  But she won’t say the word, he reminded himself. And if you let yourself fall, she’ll only make a fool out of you again.

  He realized he should say something. “Got another signing today?” he asked, trying to act cool, calm, and collected. As if the night before never happened. Maybe they could at least be friends. Or something.

  “Just finished,” Hailey said. “Went well, actually. There were a ton of people there. We have another one this afternoon.”

&nb
sp; An odd pride swelled inside him. He didn’t know why, exactly. Not like he’d done anything for her career but hold her back a few years. Still, it made him happy to hear the excitement in her voice as she talked about her comic. She’d followed her dreams and reached the stars. He couldn’t help but admire her for that.

  “Cool,” he said. “Maybe I’ll stop by this afternoon.”

  Hailey nodded, looking a little impatient. She’d obviously come here with something on her mind. “So, I heard about you guys signing Hiro,” she said. “That’s incredible. How did you get him? From what I understood he said he’d never do a movie.”

  He felt his face heat. Sure, he was okay with his coworkers thinking he was God’s gift. But he couldn’t play superhero to Hailey. She knew him too well.

  “Can you keep a secret?” he asked. She nodded, her eyes widening with anticipation. He hated to disappoint her. “Well, honestly, it just sort of fell into my lap,” he admitted. “This talent agency called MeyioSeraph just showed up at my booth and offered me his stuff. At first I didn’t believe them. But they had all the paperwork; all I had to do was sign.” He shrugged. “Well, that and promise them ridiculous amounts of money, of course. I don’t know how this agency got him to agree to do pictures, but whoever it was should get a huge bonus. The fifteen-percent commission on a deal like that is more than some third-world country’s GNP.”

  Hailey didn’t look impressed. In fact, if Collin didn’t know better, he’d say she looked concerned. “Did you actually meet up with Hiro?” she asked.

  “Yes. This morning. He seemed sort of out of it, actually,” Collin said, remembering the strange meeting they’d had. He’d tried to put it off to the language barrier, but something in the back on his brain told him it was more than that. “He thanked me for buying his manga and said he was excited to see the film version.”

  “Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

  It was the question he’d been asking himself all day, and she was the first person to come out and say it. “Yes,” he agreed. “Really odd. The whole thing. But who knows—with these artistic types?” The second the words left his mouth he regretted them. “Well, you know w-what I mean,” he stammered, blushing again under Hailey’s gaze.

  She waved the unintended insult off. “So, where is he now?” she asked.

  “I have no idea. Probably downing lots of expensive saki. Doesn’t matter, really. We won’t be dealing with him again. He signed away all his movie rights to us. If he’s lucky, he’ll get a ticket to the premiere, but that’s about it. We’ll get a screenwriter to work up a script and go from there.”

  Hailey finally met his eyes. “I need to see him,” she said, her voice quiet and urgent.

  “What?” He cocked his head. What was she getting at here? “Why the sudden interest in Hiro?” A pang of jealousy stabbed at his gut. What if she had a thing for the guy? But no, that was ridiculous. And besides, even if she did, it wasn’t any of his business anymore. She’d made that clear with her quick exit last night.

  “Um,” she stammered. “I can’t explain. I just do.”

  There was desperation in her voice that made him pause. Whatever this was about, she was serious. “Well, the agency’s booth is 4294,” Collin said, pointing in the general direction. “You could try asking them.”

  “I went already and tried there. The booth is gone.”

  Collin stared at her. “Why would the booth be gone?”

  “I don’t know, Collin,” she said tersely. Something was really bothering her, and he couldn’t figure out what. “All I know is it’s not there. And I really need to find him. Do you have any idea where he could be? Maybe a contact number or something?”

  Collin shook his head. “I have a contact at MeyioSer-aph,” he said, pulling out his Treo. He punched a few buttons then put the phone to his ear. “Hi, this is Collin Robinson,” he said, after getting a “MeyioSeraph, may I help you,” on the other end. “I’m wondering if I could speak to Hiro.”

  “Hiro is not taking any phone calls,” the woman stated in a flat voice.

  “My studio just paid him twenty million dollars. Surely he’ll take mine.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Robinson. I’ll pass the message along for you.”

  Collin glanced over at Hailey, who was biting her fingernails—something she only did when she was extremely nervous. He decided to try once more. “Just for a min—,” he started, before the phone disconnected on him. “They hung up,” he informed her.

  She dropped her hand. “This is not good,” she said. “Not good at all.”

  “What are you so worried about? He’s probably just off celebrating his new fortune.” He studied her closer. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” he asked. “I feel like I’m missing a vital piece of the puzzle here.”

  Hailey sighed. Funny, that. She looked up into Collin’s earnest face, his concerned eyes, and wished she could just spill it all and tell him everything—about the ninjas, about the Karma Kitty fight, every single last ridiculous thing. But she couldn’t bear to see the disbelief in his eyes, the disappointment that she was once again “making up her little stories” as she did when they were together. So as much as she would have liked having Collin’s help in all of this, it was better, in the end, to just go it alone.

  “No,” she lied, trying to sound as blasé as possible. “I was just curious to meet him, is all.”

  She still got the frown, the disappointment. Even without the wild story, he still didn’t believe her. Though, why should he? She bit her lower lip. She wouldn’t believe herself at this point either. This sucked. “I’ve g-got to go,” she stammered, needing to get away before he saw the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Sure, um, anytime,” he said, giving her a helpless look. Then he added, “Are you okay, Hailey? I mean, you’re not in any trouble, are you? ’Cause if you were . . .” He trailed off, and the concern in his eyes almost broke her right then and there as a hundred nights wrapped in his warm embrace came flooding back all at once in a tidal wave of memories. The lump in her throat made her jaw quiver. If only . . .

  She shook her head clear and used every ounce of her strength to walk away without looking back. It hurt, yes, but it was better in the long run. Better for both of them. She made the mistake of glancing back and saw he was still watching her. She gave him a half wave and then disappeared into the crowd, her heart breaking and rebreaking with every step.

  Once a safe distance away, she punched up Thomas on her cell and instructed him to meet her at Starbucks for a latte. Thomas, who would have agreed to meet Attila the Hun if Starbucks was involved, was already there and had ordered by the time she made it through the crowd and to the coffee chain. She slipped into the chair across from him and he handed her a steaming paper cup.

  “So, what did Mr. Hollywood say?” he asked.

  She related all she’d found out. About MeyioSeraph Agents, Darken Pictures’ involvement, and the mysterious circumstances under which the deal had been struck.

  Thomas sat silently for a moment, sipping his no-whip, sugar-free vanilla, skim latte, with a thoughtful slurp, then set down the beverage and reached into his bag and whipped out his laptop.

  “When in doubt, Google,” he proclaimed.

  She narrowed her eyes, doubting his strategy. “I hardly doubt Hiro’s listed in whitepages.com. He lives in Japan, remember.”

  But Thomas either didn’t hear her (yeah, right) or completely ignored her (much more likely) and carried on with his search. She leaned back, taking another sip of her drink, allowing him his SherlockHolmes.com moment. He was a good Internet researcher, actually. His big claim to fame was the time he met a guy at a gay bar who introduced himself as “Petey the Meaty.” The two had shared a quick locking of lips on the dance floor before the clock struck twelve and Cinderfella ditched the ball without so much as a glass platform boot—never mind a phone number. The next day, a rather obsessed Thom
as came up with not only the digits, but also e-mail, photos from his last drag show, his father’s doctor’s license, even his property records.

  Which went to show you, it was never wise to piss off a professional Googler.

  “Sister . . .” Thomas was muttering under his breath as he typed and scanned. “Karen Kim . . . Cleveland . . . Bingo!” He looked up with a wide grin. “I think I might have something.” He pulled out his iPhone and dialed a number. “Hello?” he greeted, a minute later. “Yes, this is Tom Law, USA Today reporter. I’m doing an article on your brother Hiro and he said I should give you a call.”

  He gave a thumbs-up to Hailey and she smiled in return. Her partner had really missed his calling as an investigative reporter, for sure.

  “What?” Thomas cried suddenly, the mischievous smirk fading from his face. “Are you sure?”

  Something was wrong. Hailey held out her hands and mouthed, “What?” Thomas waved her off.

  “Well, yes, I guess you would be sure. But it’s just . . . well, sudden. I’m so sorry for your loss. No, no, I won’t bother you again. Yes, I’ll put it in the article. No problem.” He pressed END and set the phone down on the table. He met Hailey’s eyes, his own dead serious for the first time in forever.

  “What is it?” Hailey demanded. “You’re scaring me.”

  “Hiro’s dead.”

  “What?” she cried. “He can’t be dead. We saw him this morning onstage.”

  “That was this morning. According to his sister he spent the afternoon performing ritualized hara-kiri in his hotel room. The maid found him, bleeding all over the rug, just an hour ago.”

  “Oh my God,” Hailey cried, hardly able to digest the news. “Why would he do that? After signing the deal? Do you think he was ashamed of selling out or something? Like, he regretted his decision and couldn’t face his fans?” It seemed like a leap, but it was too much to be completely unrelated.

  Thomas looked grim. “Or maybe it only looked like suicide.”