Lights, Camera...Kiss the Boss

by Nikki Logan

  Ava couldn’t see Kurtz’s face, but his entire body stiffened. ‘Then what are you, Arnot? A man willing to sell his woman out to the media even while you were sleeping with her? Have you told her yet that it was you that sold her out, or is all this holier-than-though crap just lip-service?’

  Dan surged to his feet. People at neighbouring tables turned to look.

  Ava stumbled to a halt. Her heart struck cold. She instantly recalled Dione Leeds’ snarky comment about Dan arranging the various PR incidents. And then an image came—Dan outside in the shadows on the night the restaurant photo had been taken, the incorrect call sheets, the ones Dan had handed them personally, Dan speaking with the maître d’ just before she and Brant were accidentally seated at the wrong table, a romantic table for two by a bright open window. Where a photographer had just happened to see them. The first photo that had started it all.

  Worse, Dan had been at every publicity event since she’d started on-camera with Urban Nature.

  Her skin prickled into tiny bumps. What was it she had said about the publicity? Engineered. Crystals of ice immediately encased her heart.

  ‘Is that true, Dan?’

  Both men snapped around, but only one looked appalled to find her standing there. Bill Kurtz just looked smug. Ava ignored him entirely; her narrowed eyes were fixed in despair on the handsome face in front of her, on the man who had always had the power to hurt her. The man who looked one hundred percent guilty as charged.

  ‘Ava…’ Dan started towards her as another song started on the massive PA system. It was a soggy love-song that any other night she would have hummed happily along with. Now she’d forever associate it with the feeling of her heart being torn from her body.

  She flung two hands in front of her, stopping him. They shook with the effort of keeping her voice level. ‘Is. That. True?’

  He glued a phony smile to his face and stepped towards her.

  ‘Don’t do this, Ava. People are watching,’ he muttered through the grimace, grabbing her arm and steering her towards the half-empty dance floor. It was about as private as they would get with all these industry types around.

  She went into his arms as comfortably as a sacrifice went unto death, and then looked at him through a wash of unshed tears. A giant fist squeezed her heart and stole her ability to speak. She didn’t need to; he knew what she wanted to know.

  ‘Hold on, Ava. There are a thousand eyes here.’ He pulled her slowly around the dance floor and Ava struggled to regain some composure. Finally he spoke. ‘I should have told you. I’m sorry.’

  Ava didn’t know whether to be grateful he was holding her up or horrified to be touching him. Every word he’d ever said to her suddenly turned to ash. She forced sound over her frozen lips.

  ‘What have you done?’

  He sighed. ‘It was part of my job.’

  ‘To sell me out to the media? Part of your job?’

  She saw him wince, but her heart had no room left for pity. A deep-seated coldness spread outwards from the dying organ. ‘You kept forcing me and Brant together.’ It wasn’t a question and it didn’t need an answer. He didn’t give her one. ‘The restaurant. Was that you?’ she grated.

  He didn’t nod. But he didn’t deny it. His eyes were fixed over her shoulder. His grasp tight.

  ‘All those other stories?’ Unshed tears choked her throat.

  He shook his head. ‘No. But I started the feeding frenzy. I made that choice.’

  Sharp hurt roiled deep in her belly.

  ‘The first one was really all that was needed,’ he said quietly. ‘It whetted the public appetite for more. Then Kurtz took over.’

  She took a deep breath and spoke through the hurt. ‘You let them do this to me? To Brant?’

  ‘No, Maddox knew.’

  Wham. A double hit of agony. ‘Brant knew. You knew. The network knew. Seems like the only chump not to know was little ole Ava from the sticks.’

  ‘Ava, don’t…’

  She wrenched free, unable to stomach his hands on her for a second longer. ‘Is he that powerful, Dan? Your father?’

  He paled and looked away. ‘He has nothing to do with this.’

  ‘He has everything do to with this. You chose him over me. You made revenge on him more important than what we have.’ She caught herself. Her chest heaved. ‘Had. Past tense.’

  The romantic music played on. Dan struggled to keep his composure. ‘You don’t mean that.’

  Ava straightened her spine, amazed it didn’t snap under the strain. ‘Completely.’

  ‘Without even letting me explain?’

  ‘Oh? You can explain? Go ahead.’ She stared at him hard as he moved her automatically around the dance floor. His mouth opened and shut several times until finally his eyes dropped away. ‘How did you expect me to react?’ she whispered.

  Dan sighed and tucked her in closer, as though she might break away. It was hard to know if the lights overhead were spinning or if it was just her.

  ‘Like this,’ he sighed. ‘You have every right to be angry.’

  ‘I am so much more than angry.’ She curled her hands into fists. Wanting to hit him. Wanting him to hurt as much as she was hurting right now. ‘I’m broken, Dan.’ Her voice cracked.

  Bleakness streaked through his eyes. ‘Ava, please understand the position I was in. Wanting to do the best thing by everyone. I swear on your mother’s grave, I was trying to protect you—’

  ‘A wise man once told me to grow a spine. Well, how about doing the same and standing up for someone you love?’ A tear escaped down her cheek just as a booming voice came across the public address system, announcing the commencement of the televised portion of the awards. Guests streamed towards their seats. ‘Oh, that’s right. It’s only lust, isn’t it? I doubt you’re even capable of love. Look at the role models you had.’

  She turned to go. Dan held her wrist and dragged her to him, eyes glittering. ‘Nine years ago you accused me of being just like my mother. Of running out when the going got too tough. Well, what are you doing now, Ava?’

  She stared at him in horror. Apparently even at sixteen she’d known enough to strike exactly where it would do most damage. And it had, if he’d hung onto it all this time.

  ‘I can’t understand why hurting him is so important to you,’ she whispered. ‘Tell me. Help me understand.’

  The plea hung between them. Agony filled his eyes. Then his voice was quiet. Hard. ‘I don’t have room for anything else inside me, Ava. There’s nothing left in there except raw hatred for that man and what he did to me. It has sustained me for years.’

  She stared at him, appalled by the emptiness in his eyes. No wonder he’d had a string of meaningless relationships. No wonder he was so driven to succeed. It was all he had.

  ‘No, Dan. It has sustained itself for twenty years. Like a parasite sucking all the worth out of your life. It’s consumed everything you loved.’ She twisted her wrist from his hand. ‘First you fed it surfing. Now you’re feeding it me.’

  His eyes glassed over. Toughened as she watched. ‘I don’t have anything more to offer you, Ava.’ He released her away from him. ‘I’m empty. I don’t know how to be any other way.’

  The lights started to dim and the room hushed. She stumbled behind him to the table and grabbed her seat for support just as Brant slid in next to her. She was directly opposite Dan. No coincidence. After all, they were supposed to be giving each other secret cow-eyes across the table all night.

  What a joke.

  The pain of betrayal sliced through her in the gathering hush. She sensed Brant’s confusion when she gave him the cold shoulder, too. The evening stretched interminably ahead of her, seated at a table full of men who had either betrayed her or were using her.

  Or both.

  The lights dimmed, the glitterati hushed, and a booming voice burst over the crowd. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the forty-sixth Annual Australian Television Awards gala dinner…’

 
; Ava looked around at the excitement, the anticipation of those seated on other tables. It should have been like that for her. Seated across from the man she loved, celebrating his success, knowing she had contributed to it.

  Instead, here they were. Dan’s eyes cold and remote, staring away from her. The slimebag Kurtz savouring his victory. Her own heart bleeding out onto the expensive carpet.

  It physically hurt to breathe. Was the tug-of-war between loving someone and hating them what made hearts break?

  Brant won his category—Best Male Talent in a Non-Drama Role. She might still be mad at him, but it was impossible not to feel some happiness for him. Despite everything people said or thought about him, Brant Maddox was adored by the voting public. The applause from the public seats was thunderous testament to that.

  Ava met Brant’s eyes a split second before he stood from the table, suddenly unable to punish him further for something he couldn’t control. It just felt wrong. She smiled encouragement at him, and the sheer relief in his expression only served to intensify her guilt. This was his night and she was blowing it for him. What Cadence wouldn’t give to be here in her place…

  Brant casually moved to the stage, stopping to shake a hand or two and slap a shoulder or three on the way. His acceptance speech was short and to the point. And one hundred percent loaded for those in the know.

  ‘And to my heart,’ he finished, pulling his statuette against the left side of his chest, ‘only you know what this really means to me, and only you really know me. Thank you.’

  He hadn’t looked at anyone in particular, but half the room glanced at Ava. Onstage, Brant blew a kiss to the camera as though it was for his fans. But Ava knew better.

  She blinked away tears and glanced up, only to find Dan’s burning regard on her. She forced her eyes back to the stage.

  Kurtz and a nameless AusOne executive were congratulating themselves on their achievement. Ava’s stomach turned. As though their intensive meddling at Cadence’s expense had anything to do with Brant’s own success. He’d got his nomination despite their involvement, not because if it.

  Brant left the stage via the wings as the show broke for its first commercial break, and then appeared across the room through a backstage door. Out of nowhere, a roving camera appeared at their table and was thrust into Ava’s face. She was entirely unprepared. Dan stretched forward, too late to ward it off.

  ‘Ava, that was quite a speech. How does it feel to be so publicly affirmed?’

  Exhaustion, misery and anger all warred within her—but all she could think about was Cadence. How she must feel, sitting in her living room watching all this happen without her. Watching the man she loved face his biggest career moment alone. Watching another woman seated in her rightful place.

  Ava swallowed her pain and spoke from the soul, the weight of Brant’s secret an extra strain on her weary heart, hoping that Cadence was still watching. She turned towards the camera shoved in close to her face, knowing her eyes would be glittering dangerously from the unshed hurts of the evening. ‘There’s not a woman alive who wouldn’t be moved to tears at having her love so publicly validated.’ The tiniest of pauses. ‘If it was directed at her.’

  She threw Brant a watery smile as he arrived at the table, gold paperweight in hand. The cameraman and the presenter exchanged confused looks at her cryptic answer, then turned their attention on the man of the moment.

  Ava let Brant enjoy the spotlight. He’d earned it. She glanced briefly across the table to where Dan studied the tablecloth intently. Then his eyes jerked up and locked with hers, blazing and sharp.

  Rib-spreaders couldn’t have done a better job of baring her pulped heart.

  Dan rose suddenly from his seat and walked away, just as the lights dropped again for the next televised segment. Brant watched her watching Dan go.

  ‘What did I miss?’ he whispered over the introduction to the next segment.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Ava…?’

  She spun around, hurt. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the publicity? That Dan was behind it?’

  ‘Ah.’ He considered her for a moment. ‘What would it have changed?’

  ‘I would have known.’

  ‘And that would have been better how?’

  ‘Because then maybe I wouldn’t have found out this way.’ Her voice was tiny.

  Brant dropped his eyes. ‘True. But none of us could have predicted this.’

  She looked at him. His judgement and his industry savvy were solid. ‘You don’t think all this was part of Dan’s plan?’

  He looked shocked. ‘No. Do you?’

  Ava hesitated at his certainty, and then shrugged.

  ‘Hon, I saw his face in the limo,’ Brant said. ‘It was not the face of a man who knew what was coming. He was as pole-axed as the rest of us.’ He nodded towards Kurtz, who was watching the proceedings on-stage with interest. ‘That face, on the other hand…’

  Ava considered. ‘You think Kurtz knew which way the story was going to go?’

  ‘Dan believed I was a womanising git, remember? And Kurtz is threatened by him.’

  She couldn’t join the dots. Her mind was too jumbled for any more puzzles. ‘So?’

  ‘It means the network didn’t fill him in—didn’t tell him all the women were a screen for Cadence. They didn’t trust him, Ava. I think Kurtz did this whole thing to stick it to Dan, primarily. To establish his dominance.’

  The layers of deceit were baffling. It was almost impossible to sort out who meant what. She’d even indulged in a little spin of her own, covering for Cadence. She’d been a willing participant in most of the PR, made it all too easy for Dan to arrange what the network wanted. She’d put up no resistance at all.

  ‘Please understand the position I was in,’ he’d said. ‘Trying to protect you.’ Maybe he’d been working from day to day with what information he’d had at the time. Trying desperately to control the outcome. While Kurtz had worked behind the scenes screwing him over, too.

  With sudden insight she began to see everything from Dan’s perspective. Wangling her the pay-rise and the RV to compensate for forcing her hand; supporting her refusal to wear the skimpy outfit; constantly on set to keep control of things; trying to negotiate a decent reporter for the feature article; his absolute fury when that hadn’t come off.

  Trying to spin the spin. All the while trying desperately to hang on to the only thing that meant anything to him on this planet. His career.

  She stared blankly at the stage as the facts slotted into place. Then she looked around for him, suddenly desperate to speak with him alone. To get more answers. To listen. To trust. She saw the big double doors open a crack and a set of broad shoulders slip out into the foyer.

  Dan.

  Before Brant even knew she was gone, she was threading quickly through the crowded tables towards the exit. She ignored Carrie’s signal to her and pushed through into the foyer alone. She glanced around. Empty, save for a few waiting staff doing their thing, bussing dirty dishes out to the kitchen. Surely he wouldn’t leave? Not before his category? Her heart lurched at the thought. She hurried to the entrance of the auditorium and peered around outside.

  Then she froze as she heard the one voice she’d been avoiding all night.

  ‘Well, well. If it isn’t the country mouse.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  DAN slid into his chair and tossed his rolled-up napkin at Maddox, who looked around in surprise in the dark. ‘Where’s Ava?’ he hissed over the hubbub from nearby tables.

  Brant shrugged and mouthed the words ladies’ room.

  Why wasn’t Maddox keeping an eye out for her? That was his job! No, it is your job, a tiny voice reprimanded. He’d lost his cool for a moment—had to get out before he did or said something he’d regret. The pain in her body language had nearly killed him.

  He’d left Ava alone and unsupported while she was still desperately struggling.

  She was beyond angry—
any idiot could see that. She was confused and hurting, and all because of him. His gut had warned him to tell her about the PR stunts earlier. To explain on his own terms. There’d even been a time or two where the conversation had naturally lent itself to a full confession, but he’d chickened out. He’d been afraid she’d walk away, tell him it was over. As she just had.

  And that possibility terrified him.

  Not that he didn’t understand. Ava had been stretched about as far as any human being could go tonight. He hoped in his heart she’d spoken only from anger and hurt, and that both might pass once he got a chance to talk to her. To explain every detail.

  Every humiliating, painful detail.

  She deserved at least that. And, frankly, he was tired of carrying it all by himself. He’d told her he was empty, had no room for her. But the weeping hole left now that she’d walked away from him proved that wasn’t true.

  Somehow, some time over the past few months, Ava Lange had worked her way into his heart and staked a claim. Displaced some of the darkness.

  He wasn’t going to lose the only constant love he’d had in his life.

  He craned his neck to monitor both sets of doors leading from the auditorium. Where was she? Onstage, the presenter ran through the nominations for Best New Lifestyle Programme and short snippets of each were played on the giant screen behind him. Dan’s heart gave a lurch to see Ava, one hundred times enlarged on the massive screen, looking so fresh and beautiful. The contrast with how he’d seen her moments ago was marked.

  A gnawing feeling settled into his gut.

  ‘And the winner of the Best New Lifestyle Programme is…’

  Dan twisted his neck and stared at the exit doors. What if she hadn’t gone to the ladies’ room?

  Where was she?

  Ava pushed past Dione Leeds and headed for the restrooms, not trusting herself to speak. Leeds followed her into the ladies’ lounge, where a number of comfortable seats and a viewing monitor were set up so guests could keep track of what was happening on stage as they used the facilities.