Thank goodness Kal’s mother finally stood up to him and helped win him over. The full academic scholarship hadn’t hurt either.
Kal’s announced move to Tampa nearly drove him over the edge. Her father wanted her home, in Columbus, where he could marry her off to Jeff Conrad, the son of his best friend and church deacon, Billy Conrad.
She couldn’t stand Jeff Conrad. She didn’t know him very well, but he always came off as a standoffish, smarmy jerk. Then again, maybe she thought that because his father Billy was a smarmy jerk and she painted Jeff with the same brush by default.
Of course, Kalyani neglected to mention to her parents exactly what her new show was about. It would compound the problem and make her escape from Columbus even more difficult. She’d only told them she’d been assigned as a producer on a documentary show. Otherwise, there would be fireworks.
“Devil’s work!” her father would shriek, demanding she drop to her knees and pray.
She wished she was exaggerating, but considering he’d freaked out over her bringing home a Billy Joel CD two years earlier, she knew he would. Thank goodness he couldn’t figure out how to unlock her MP3 player.
He’d have a coronary.
Not that Kalyani would ever admit to her father that she’d watched the remake of Hairspray at a friend’s house one night during a high school sleepover, but he made the Bible-thumping mother in that movie look like a pagan liberal Democrat by comparison.
Another bonus—moving to Tampa meant getting away from home again. Living on campus during college had been heavenly, the freedom blissful. The past six months back home under the same roof as her father had been…
Well, hellish.
When she took the administrative assistant job at the network, it paid more than enough for her to get her own apartment. Between her father’s stern lectures and her mother’s pleading looks not to leave her alone with him ranting and raving about Kal moving out, Kal gave in and lived at home. She even caught him snooping through her cell phone—which she paid for, not them—when she got out of the shower one night. Two days later, when the network asked her to take this job, it seemed like a good omen.
Or divine intervention.
Kal rubbed her palms against her jeans. No denying she felt nervous leaving home for the first time by herself, not counting college, because then she could go home for weekends. Usually she had to. If she didn’t put in an appearance at church her father would call out the Ohio National Guard to find her.
Yay! I can sleep late on Sundays!
While she’d admit to breaking out of her shell a little at OSU, she still considered herself a good girl by most standards. She didn’t intend to compromise her scruples. The network promised her a chance at bigger, better things down the road. If she wanted to stay on that road, she had to point her car in the direction they dictated, starting with this gig. She resented being forced to take this particular show, but if it meant a chance to break into network television, she’d willingly do it.
Still, it was easier to keep her father in the dark for a while longer.
At least until after her flight safely landed in Tampa.
She’d never watched the show before the network gave her the first two seasons on DVD. They said they wanted a skeptic in the producer slot, said it gave the show more veracity and authenticity, balanced it out. She had to admit they pegged her dead to rights there. She didn’t believe in ghosts except those of the Holy variety. Even then sometimes she had her doubts, although she’d never admit that out loud in front of her father. She absolutely didn’t believe in most of the things Will Hellenboek and his crew investigated. Although she gave him credit, he rarely seemed willing to admit a place had supernatural activities, unlike his goofy sidekick, Aidan.
Hellenboek certainly had devoted legions of admirers. Googling him revealed dozens of fan sites. He was a mysterious man with brooding good looks. Apparently his personal life was a well-guarded secret, which, of course, made him even more popular.
The gate attendant called Kalyani’s flight. She slung her laptop case over her shoulder, grabbed her purse and carry-on bag, and stood in line to board. This was the first time she’d ever been to Tampa and only the fifth time she’d ever flown. The network had arranged for a rental car at Tampa International. Hopefully the apartment they leased for her wasn’t infested with cockroaches or bedbugs.
Kal said a little prayer as she handed over her boarding pass and waited her turn. This marked the start of a new life, her first true freedom. She would take every opportunity presented to get out on her own, and thank Heaven on her knees if she had to.
* * * *
Will pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten. As always, setup resembled controlled chaos, with Aidan twenty places at once and making sure the infrared and other cameras had been properly placed and wired. Purson had to handle one of the unpaid PAs, who insisted on bringing his girlfriend to the shoot. Purson finally convinced the girlfriend to leave with a little of his special brand of persuasion. Will brooked no bending of his “boys only” rule when he worked on a shoot. The four closely knit men knew the real reason. Everyone else assumed Will was either gay or an obnoxious chauvinist pig.
Neither reason true, of course, but Will was more than happy to let the rumors fly if it kept him isolated from anything other than incidental contact with members of the opposite sex.
He damn sure couldn’t work with a woman. The crew only welcomed women on shoots when Will wasn’t around, usually B-roll retakes or prelim investigations edited into the final cuts to make it look like they’d all been shot at the same time. The public never knew the difference, only the inner sanctum of the high-ranking production crew was aware of it.
Will glanced at the time, pleasantly surprised to see they were almost an hour ahead of schedule. “We’ve got time for dinner,” he told Aidan. The crew welcomed the break. “So when’s this new producer arriving?”
Aidan glanced at his watch. “Flight should have landed by now. Unless he gets lost, probably in the next hour or so. You know traffic’s a bitch around TIA with all the construction, especially at rush hour.”
* * * *
While Kalyani nervously awaited her luggage, she twisted the small ring on her left hand. She’d shipped most of what few other things she had, and they would arrive in the next day or so. Fortunately the apartment was furnished. Kal had checked three large suitcases of clothes and other things to bring with her. She snagged a cart and struggled with the heavy bags but got everything loaded and located the rental car counter. Twenty minutes later the shuttle bus driver helped her unload at the terminal rental car lot. Sweating in the humid Florida heat, Kal loaded the bags in the trunk, studied her map, and pointed the car toward the interstate.
This wasn’t her idea of Florida. Postcard settings of white sandy beaches and sedate, palm-tree-lined avenues were nowhere to be seen. Neither were acres of lush, green citrus groves or nearly nekkid beach love gods, as pictured on tourist-trap postcards. Instead, rush-hour traffic and construction felt like being back in Columbus, only with muggy, salt-sweet air as the backdrop.
It took her nearly an hour to crawl through traffic and find her way to the University of Tampa campus. Plant Hall’s tall, ornate minarets graced the skyline across the Hillsborough River from downtown Tampa. Kal consulted another map as she parked next to a cargo van which had an Otherworlds magnetic sign stuck to the door.
Kal dug through her purse, located her network ID card lanyard, and strung it around her neck. She’d insisted on Kal instead of Kalyani on the ID and had practiced her stern but not-too-bitchy mug-shot face for hours in her mirror before she’d had it taken. She had no illusions—this was a male-dominated profession and she wanted every possible advantage. Cute and perky weren’t advantages to getting network producer assignments and having people listen to you on a shoot. Unless you wanted to be fetching coffee or proofing scripts for life.
She pulled her hair into a pony
tail and parked a well-worn Brutus Buckeye baseball cap on her head after threading her hair through the opening in the back. Jeans and sneakers, she’d planned ahead although she wondered if she should have gone with shorts in this heat. A tank top under an unbuttoned, long-sleeved chambray shirt, sleeves rolled to her elbows—she looked like serious business for this business. No makeup, she rarely wore it. Kal took one last look at herself in the rearview mirror.
Let’s do this.
She took a deep, calming breath, got out, and locked the car. Ryan Ausar, the network VP who hired her, had warned her that Will Hellenboek ran a tight ship. She would literally be the odd man out with an uphill climb to get Hellenboek to warm up to her working on the show. Heck, if she could finesse her father, she could handle someone like Will Hellenboek. Ausar had promised she’d only have to work one year on the show. If she made it through that year, they’d promote her to a different show more to her liking.
Sitting in Ausar’s office last Monday, Kal had felt like she was dreaming as he smiled at her, those neat green eyes of his barreling through any possible thoughts she had of refusing the job. He also had the coolest British accent. She loved his cologne. She’d have to find out what it was, buy some for her father.
“I think you’re perfect for this assignment, love,” he’d said, gently touching her shoulder, his gaze holding her captive. “After this year is up, you and I shall sit down, right here. If you wish to change to a different show, I will give you your pick. I’ll even put it in writing, if you so desire. You’ve demonstrated a lot of initiative and talent. I wish to have someone like you working at gO! Network for the long term.”
She didn’t push her luck, somehow sensing he wasn’t lying. Perhaps naive not to get it in writing, but weirdly enough, she trusted him. And gO! Network had already built a reputation for doing things differently than other networks.
Kal considered it for the briefest of seconds. A chance to get her own show now, and then her pick of the network lineup in a year?
Heavens, that was a deal she would willingly make.
* * * *
Will sat behind the bank of monitors, double-checking the feeds while Aidan wrangled the other crew and investigators. He preferred the technical aspects, content to let Aidan have the spotlight even though Aidan dragged him in front of the cameras more than he wanted. It amazed Will that the harder he tried to melt into the background and let Aidan be the stronger presence on the show, the more popular he himself became, some sort of weird paradox that left him scratching his head. It wasn’t quite sundown yet, so they couldn’t go dark. Aidan took the production crew and investigators on a preliminary tour of the building so they wouldn’t be stumbling around later. Some of the museum displays were very fragile, and Will preferred not having to explain damages to their insurance company.
When Will had checked that all the feeds were active and the camera placements adequate, he leaned back and closed his eyes, tired to the very depths of his soul.
How tired became clearly apparent when the woman’s voice startled him. He normally would have heard her footsteps and breathing, the slip yet another welcomed sign he was weakening.
“Hi, I’m looking for Will Hellenboek.”
He hoped he didn’t flinch too much. He opened his eyes and turned to face her. The sight made him suck in a deep breath before forcing it out again. Her beautiful, dusty-peridot-green gaze sliced through him. He briefly struggled to form coherent words.
“Hi,” he finally managed. “This is a closed shoot, sorry.”
She stepped forward. He wished she wouldn’t do that. He wanted to take her into his arms and—
“The network sent me. I’m Kal Martin, your new producer.”
Her words shocked him out of his transfixed stupor. “I’m sorry?”
She held up her gO! Network photo ID that did in fact identify her as Kal Martin.
Crap.
Without taking his eyes off her, Will reached for a two-way. “Aidan, get your ass back to base.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Right. Freaking. Now.”
A momentary pause followed. “On my way, boss.”
Will set the radio on the table. “There’s been some misunderstanding. We expected a guy.”
“Apparently.”
* * * *
Kal had been prepared for a chilly reception, but this guy felt like the iceberg that took out the Titanic. Even more handsome in person, his slate gray eyes bored into her, his sandy-brown hair not too short, perfect for running her fingers through, and his strong, unsmiling face looked almost rugged. He had a lithe, naturally muscled body, one that would probably be nice to snuggle against.
She blinked. What the heck is wrong with me?
Another man ran in. She immediately recognized him as Aidan Faust, the cohost. His appearance distracted her and gave her a chance to rip her attention away from Hellenboek’s handsome, albeit stony glare.
Faust stopped in his tracks. “What’s—oh, hi. Sorry, this is a closed shoot. I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
Will sat back, crossed his arms and nodded toward her. “Aidan, meet Kal Martin.”
“What?” Aidan looked at her. “No shit?”
“No kidding,” she said, crossing her arms, mirroring Hellenboek’s chilly pose. “I’m your new producer.”
“No,” Will said, “you’re not. Sorry, but there’s been some miscommunication.” He stood and glared at Aidan. “Handle this.”
Will quickly strode from the room, leaving a nervously smiling Aidan behind. “Um. I’m sorry he’s—”
“Rude?”
“Uh, yeah. See, he doesn’t work with women. I told the network that.”
“That’s usually illegal according to the Department of Labor, isn’t it?”
“Will tends to work by his own rules.”
Dadgum, this was her first producer gig. She wouldn’t let some jerk like Will Hellenboek keep her from moving up the network ladder. She had her sights firmly set on bigger, better things. Discovery Channel, hopefully, if she played her cards right, then maybe she could parlay that into a job at one of the major networks in their news department. In ten years she pictured herself at the helm of a mainstay like The Today Show or Good Morning America.
And Heaven help her father—or Will Hellenboek—if anyone fouled that up for her.
Kal set her jaw into what she hoped portrayed a look of fierce irritation. “I don’t care if he makes his own rules. I’ve been hired to do a job and I’m going to do it. Ryan Ausar warned me this wouldn’t be a cakewalk. Believe me, I’m not a pushover no matter what you think.”
At the mention of Ausar’s name, Aidan’s face froze. His voice dropped to a shocked whisper. “Ryan personally hired you?”
She frowned. “Yeah. Why?”
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!” He ran a hand through his scruffy hair. “Adelle called me. I thought she’d hired you.”
“No. She just handled the paperwork and made the arrangements. I’ve been working at headquarters in Columbus. Ausar called me into his office last Monday to give me a shot at my own show. Why?”
“Crap!”
He turned from her and held up a staying hand when she tried to speak. He composed himself and faced her. “Look,” he whispered, “I’ll handle Will. Please. You’ll have to play along for a while, okay? Just whatever you do, don’t mention that Ryan had anything to do with you being here. I’m not kidding. Don’t even think his name in your head.”
She didn’t get a crazy-guy vibe from him and sensed he was serious. Couldn’t hurt to play along, could it? “Why not?”
“Because Will would walk away from the show, and then you and I both would be SOL, if you get my drift. Got it?”
Confused, but strangely unable to resist staring into his amber eyes, she nodded. “Okay.”
* * * *
Will found a dark, deserted corridor away from the active investigation area. He squatted, held his head in his hand
s, and tried to slow his heartbeat.
Holy shit.
This was bad news. He couldn’t work with her, especially with someone like her. It’d felt like his heart squeezed out of his chest when her dusty-green eyes met his. Dark honey-colored hair and she smelled like jasmine. Just the perfect height and with sweet curves in exactly the right places to put his hands…
Will shook his head to clear it. He’d walk away from the show if Aidan couldn’t get rid of her. He’d have to. Spending too much time with her would ruin his plans, that much was obvious.
It wasn’t her fault, and he regretted being rude to her. Will thought Aidan had made his position clear to the network. Normally, individual production companies handled shows like this but gO! Network had their own way of doing things, providing the film crews and producers. It gave them more control over content. More importantly it meant Will didn’t have the authority to order someone off a shoot if assigned by a network wonk.
Aidan had assured Will his talks with the network elicited promises of no women allowed.
Will rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, his heart finally slowing. He didn’t need this tonight. Especially not on a Wednesday.
Once he composed himself, Will returned to the area they used as their base. Kal Martin sat next to Aidan behind a bank of equipment as he explained the technical end of things to her.
Will took a deep breath, tried to ignore her scent, and stuck out his hand. “I’m sorry I came off like a jerk.”
Kal looked at him with a cold, appraising stare. She nodded, then shook hands with him. Something akin to an electric shock coursed through his body, practically lifting his hair from his scalp.
Wow.
It took him a few breaths to realize he still held her hand and release it. He hadn’t had a reaction like this to a woman since—
Good Will Ghost Hunting: Demon Seed [Good Will Ghost Hunting 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2
