by Meg Maguire
“I can do anything, Mr. Tyler,” Kate said, her smile all unnaturally white even teeth framed in lip gloss. She took a seat on the hotel room’s desk chair and Ty sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m highly organized and have no personal obligations, so I’m at your complete disposal, twenty-four hours a day.”
“Well, that’s certainly…accommodating. How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-six.”
“Did you recently graduate from college?”
“No,” she said, and Ty noticed her bubbling energy diminish by a degree. “I didn’t go to college.”
“Well, that’s not a problem. Just making small talk. Do you like the woods?”
“I grew up in Massachusetts,” she said, which meant nothing to Ty, literally hours off a plane from Sydney. “I’ve been camping and hiking before,” she offered.
“You like camping?”
“Sure, it’s fine. Like I said, I’ll do anything.”
Ty took a deep breath, knowing he needed to scare this girl straight, get her to back off and spare them both the embarrassment of an outright rejection. “Are you strong? Could you, say, carry a fifteen-pound camera on your shoulder for an hour at a time?”
“I’m sure I could,” she said brightly, unruffled. “I go to the gym every morning.”
“How about asthma? Allergies? Food requirements? This job demands a lot of exotic travel. You okay with centipedes and snakes and things?”
“I can handle anything you need me to.”
Ty tried another angle. “What about family? Friends? You’d have to be away for months at a time.”
Her smile was tight. “I’m not particularly attached to anyone, Mr. Tyler.”
“‘Ty’ is fine.”
“So is ‘Kate.’”
“Right, I’ll be honest with you, I don’t think this is going to work out.”
Her brows pinched together. “Why not?”
“Well, this job is really demanding, physically, for one.”
“I’m sure you’re not implying that I can’t do this because I’m a woman.”
Damn, was he? He didn’t think so, but perhaps subconsciously, Ty’d pictured his PA as a man, that was true. “No, of course not.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Yes, well… I’m just saying, this job’s going to be very taxing, and the filming’s going to be on location for days at a time. Maybe weeks. There could be wild animals and rough weather, even simulated shipwrecks or arctic conditions…”
“That sounds just fine.” Kate offered another million-dollar smile, as if he’d just broken it to her that her company car wouldn’t be the color she’d hoped.
Ty laughed tightly, growing exasperated. “I’m afraid I just don’t see this working out, Miss…Somersby.”
“Kate. And I do,” she added, assertive. Hungry. “Why don’t you give me a shot? A free trial?”
“I don’t know.”
“No one else could possibly do a better job for you than me,” she said with an almost contemptuous confidence. “I can offer you round-the-clock assistance.”
“It’s not your availability I’m concerned about. This could be quite a dangerous job.”
Kate leaned in, an intriguing gleam underscoring her stare. “Sounds thrilling.”
Ty swallowed. “I must admit, you’re very keen.”
“I am.”
He sighed, not sure what to do. She wasn’t letting him turn her down gracefully, and he had no legitimate reason to deny her. Not yet, at least. And to be honest, the other candidates he’d met or talked to on the phone had seemed far less…passionate than this one.
He blew out a breath and rolled his shoulders. “Listen… Okay. What are you doing this weekend?”
“You tell me,” she said, a glimmer of triumph already sparkling in her dark blue eyes.
“Right, then. Meet me here on Friday at two, and I’ll give you a trial run through Sunday, okay? Then we’ll see if this is a good fit.”
“Excellent. Should I bring anything in particular?”
Ty thought for a moment and decided on a bit of strategic cruelty. “No, Kate, just come as you are… Maybe change your shoes. Something a bit more practical.”
“Right.” She drew a folio from an expensive-looking briefcase and made a note. “Two o’clock on Friday, then. I’m very much looking forward to it.”
“So am I,” Ty lied.
Two days later Kate had arrived at his door at one fiftynine, knocking briskly. He answered it with his shirt still unbuttoned—he wasn’t half as punctual as she was. She gave his bare chest a quick and businesslike once-over and launched into the matter at hand.
“Good afternoon, Dominic.”
“‘Ty,’ please,” he corrected, doing up the last of his buttons. “So I take it you haven’t been snapped up by some young starlet, then?”
“Of course not. I’m very excited to get to work. What may I do for you?” she asked, glowing from her perfectly styled hair down past her argyle cardigan, right to the tiny buckles of her shiny black flats. Ty frowned. Those were a step closer to comfort than the gougers she’d had on the other day, but he’d assumed she’d turn up in sneakers…no matter. That was the evidence he’d been waiting for. Those would make it that much easier to get rid of her. Ty had planned this trip to last three days if need be, but he was sure now that they’d be done by sundown. Hell, once he outlined the particulars she’d probably be sprinting to her car, racing back downtown in ten seconds flat.
“We’re going camping, actually, Miss Somersby.” He grinned, waiting for her horror.
“Kate,” she said, and he watched her steely face falter. “Camping?” She paused just a moment and said, “Okay then. Let’s go.”
While Ty drove, Kate sat half turned in the passenger seat, facing him. He found it unnerving. He glanced over and saw that her eyes were trained on the road.
“Doesn’t that hurt your neck?” he asked.
“Pardon?” The windows were open, hot air rushing by. Kate had requested the AC at the start of the trip, but Ty had lied and said he preferred the heat. In reality he just wanted to make her as miserable as possible.
“Your neck,” he said. “That looks uncomfortable, the way you’re sitting.”
He caught Kate squirm. “It’s fine.”
“You aren’t carsick, are you?”
“No…I don’t hear very well on my left side.” She paused. “It won’t affect my ability to do this job,” she added, sounding either aggressive or defensive, Ty couldn’t pinpoint which.
“No, I’m sure it won’t.” He smiled to himself. The video camera was designed to rest on the user’s right shoulder, and it would render her effectively deaf. Bingo. She was as good as gone.
Three hours later they stepped out of the rental car at the edge of a state park. It was August and Ty wasn’t surprised in the least to find so few other vehicles in the parking lot, most of them out-of-staters. An acquaintance he’d consulted had promised that only morons went camping up here during mosquito season. When they’d climbed into the car he’d been pleased to note Kate was wearing a subtle perfume. She may as well have slathered herself in steak sauce and offered herself up to the bears.
“Here we are,” he announced, and the bugs were already finding them.
Kate slapped a fat mosquito from her arm. “Shall I set the tent up?” she asked, fixing him with her eager, go-getter smile.
“I’d like to venture a bit farther into the woods, if you don’t mind.”
“It’s your show, Mr. Tyler.”
“Ty. And speaking of shows, I’ll need you to carry this,” he said, and hoisted a heavy, professional camcorder from the trunk.
“Right,” she said with the tiniest pause. He passed it to her and watched her petite frame slump a bit from its heft. “Is it charged?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Do you have the manual? I’d like to familiarize myself with it.”
Ty frowne
d with surprise, but he complied and dug the instruction booklet from the car. She made him wait for ten minutes as she slapped the mosquitoes from her face and arms and hair, scanning the pages and toying with the buttons. The bugs were clearly frazzling her, but she looked determined to pretend otherwise. Ty mentally gave her what he imagined was a generous half hour before she cracked.
“All right, I’m ready,” Kate announced, standing and shouldering the camera, now down to one swatting hand. “Please speak as loudly as you can if you’re addressing me,” she added. Her voice had a strange tone in it. Slightly haughty and overly polite. This little hint of vulnerable pride gave Ty pause.
“No worries,” he said. “Let’s get tramping.”
Ty suppressed any feelings of sympathy he was tempted to entertain during the experiment. He ordered Kate to move here and there, behind him, in front of him, crouching down low, then up high atop a boulder. She tripped over roots and rocks, half-blind behind the eyepiece, at the complete and utter mercy of the bugs. She thrashed occasionally and the bites must have been maddening, but Kate didn’t complain. Ty had to hand it to her, she was one stubborn specimen. Strong, too, though he had no doubt she was struggling.
“Okay, that’s enough filming for now,” he announced after two hours’ torture.
“You sure? There’s a nice scenic bend just up there,” she said, and Ty wondered which one of them was going to surrender first and call the other’s bluff. He hadn’t counted on her having such a good hand. She knew how to make him sweat. He looked down and saw that the backs of her heels were chafed and bloody.
“Oh, Kate,” he groaned, finally using her first name. “Let’s just stop, okay?”
She lowered the camera and followed his eyes to her savaged feet. “That’s fine—don’t worry about that.”
“No, that’s not fine. Come on, we need to give this up.”
“Give what up?” She cocked her head and gave him a calculating look, eyes narrowing.
“You know what. You’ve proved yourself, okay?”
“So I get the job?”
“No,” Ty said with a sigh. He was taken aback when Kate slapped him on the forehead.
“Sorry, mosquito there.” She held her blood-streaked fingers up to show him, smirking in a wholly evil way. “Big one.”
And that had been it, the first of Kate’s many coups. As soon as Ty had acquiesced, Kate had let herself relax into his company. Ty had forced a pair of wool socks on her and promised her the remainder of the three-day trial, one hell of a crash course. The swarms had kept them huddled in the tent for long stretches, and if sharing that tiny space didn’t make enemies out of strangers double-quick, they could only have become friends by the time they dragged themselves to his car and drove back to L.A. late that Sunday night. The footage hadn’t been half-bad, either.
Ty started back toward the emergency cabin, feeling as though he were carrying a far heftier burden than just the armful of firewood he’d managed to scrounge. He’d just made a decision to gut all of this, these two-plus years of fantastic partnership. But it had been a good run, hadn’t it? Of course it had. Kate would calm down. She’d forgive him. Underneath the tough little soldier’s body she’d honed these past three seasons, the old Kate was still in there. Behind the practical, mud-caked thermals and jeans, the woman in the tailored blazer was there, her lips still shining with gloss, hair combed and sleek. Kate would remember that woman once they landed back in California, and be glad of a chance to ditch the nastier aspects of production.
“Kate?” He pushed the door in with his boot and found her kneeling on the floor in front of the woodstove, prodding the flames with a stick. She didn’t turn, and Ty caught her wiping a sleeve across her cheek.
“Find some decent wood?” she asked, too casually. The sticky quality to her voice confirmed that she’d been crying and Ty felt his heart break. But he knew her. She’d never accept his sympathy, so he’d give her this charade instead.
“Not bad.” He let the wood tumble from his arms into a messy pile by the wall and shut the door. “Enough to keep us warm until the morning. Snow’s not letting up, though.”
“Food?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing out there. What have we got in the pack?”
She turned, finally, and the skin under her eyes was blotchy even in the dim light. “Not a lot. I just packed some random stuff for my lunch. A bag of cashews, some string cheese and an orange. Sorry.”
“Sorry? Do you have any clue how delicious that sounds on day three?” he said, hoping to make her smile.
“Well good, because that’s all we’ve got. And I’ve got some snow melting in the thermos,” she added, pointing to where it sat on the stove.
“Good girl.”
She sighed, bitterness peeking through the diplomacy. “Don’t patronize me, Tyler.”
Ty sighed, collapsed onto the folding chair and rubbed his wind-chapped face. He unlaced his boots and kicked them off, the slushy water sluicing out as one tipped over. He stripped his thick socks off and wrung them out before donning them again, dragging the chair across the room next to Kate and propping his wet feet up in front of the growing fire.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
She glanced up. “For patronizing me, or for firing me?”
“I never said I was firing you. Don’t be mad, Kate.”
“Why on earth not?”
“Don’t you miss your regular life, after all this time? Clean clothes? Decent sleep? Hair dryers?”
“I’m not the same person I was when we met, Ty. I like this, okay?” Her eyes burned into his for a moment, unforgiving. She looked back at the stove. “I can’t believe you’re thinking of doing this.”
“I’m not thinking about it. It’s done.”
“I am so royally pissed off at you.” She jabbed at the flames with her stick.
“That’s fine with me. I can understand that.”
“Just shut up, Ty. Please.”
He sighed. “What you said before, about this being your show, too…you’re right. I mean, ‘the crew’? It’s your name that’s listed in the credits for how many other jobs? More than Dom Tyler, even.” He ticked her titles off on his fingers. “Additional Camera, Researcher, Travel Liaison, Assistant Film Editor, Mr. Tyler’s Assistant, of course. We ought to rename the show…. Maybe to Kate Somersby: Survive This Jackass!”
Kate didn’t reply.
Ty cleared his throat. “You know better than anybody what goes on out here. If the viewers knew how much you really did…well, I’m not all that bloody credible to begin with, but… You could ruin me. In the press, I mean. If you wanted to. Just don’t ever think I can’t see how hard you work.”
She frowned. “Why would I want to discredit you? My reputation’s wrapped up in this as much as yours. And we never lied about anything, about the show being simulated, and you having help.”
“A hell of a lot of help.”
Kate took a noisy breath, sounding exhausted. “Not anymore… You’ve got to know there’s no way I’ll keep this job if you take the best part of it away.”
“There’s still a lot left, Kate. You do about four people’s jobs for me, now. There’ll still be at least two left for you even with filming gone.”
Kate made a disgusted face. “That’s like… That’s like telling me I can have any part of the lobster except the meat. That offer is like a plate of antennae and eyes and shell parts and a lemon wedge—”
“You’re a poet, Kate.”
“It’s a terrible offer.”
Ty didn’t attempt to argue further, just stretched his legs out and stared at his feet in their wet socks. “Well, when you get back to town you can exact your revenge,” he said, hoping to reclaim some of their old, comforting banter. “You can go run to all the tabloids and tell them what a jerk-off I am, if you fancy. How I hit on you? Sell your exposé to all your beloved gossip rags.”
“Shut up.” She rubbed her te
mples as if a headache were overtaking her. “I can’t believe you kissed me earlier.”
“It was pretty unbelievable,” Ty agreed, flirting recklessly.
She kept her eyes on the flames. “Did you decide to do that before or after you chose to ruin my life?”
“About a minute before. So don’t worry, it still counts as unwelcome contact in the workplace, if you want to sue me for sexual harassment.”
“Don’t think for a second that I’m finding you cute right now.” Her deadly tone cut him down. She’d always been good at that.
“All right,” Ty said, relenting.
They sat quietly for a few minutes, until Ty caught her shivering.
“Your clothes all wet?”
She nodded.
“Mine, too. You know the drill.”
He stood but she didn’t follow suit. He poked her hip with his toe. “Come on. We’ve gone this long without anybody catching hypothermia. Let’s not ruin our track record now.” He yanked the sweater over his head. “Mind you, look what an ironic death did for James Dean.”
She rolled her eyes at him but stood, and they both tugged off their damp clothes. Kate stopped at her T-shirt and underwear, holding her jeans up to the stove. She wasn’t shy with her body. She had no reason to be—it was fantastic. And anyhow, seeing each other in their underthings wasn’t a rare occurrence. Ty stripped all the way down to his boxer briefs and slung his clothes over the folding chair.
Kate kept her eyes on the fire. “You’re no James Dean,” she finally mumbled.
“Because I don’t play the bongos?”
She ignored him.
“Is this weird now, since we…you know?” Ty was dying to bring the topic back around to the kiss.
“Since you forced yourself on me, you mean?” Kate asked, but when her eyes met his he could see a glimmer of her old self in them. Ty rushed heedlessly forward with this tiny poke of encouragement.
“I distinctly remember you letting me.”
“I was too shocked to protest,” she said.
“I’ve never seen you shocked before, Kate.”
“It’s just that I’ve never been confronted by such a horrifying experience before.”
