Page 113 of At the Heart of It
“Sorry, Kate.” He sounded genuinely sorry, but that didn’t stop him from zooming in for a close-up. “Boss’s orders.”
“Pete,” she said again, her voice remarkably calm even though her hands were shaking. “I’m going to start counting now. If you’re not gone by the time I get to ten, I’m going to shove that camera so far up your ass you’ll have footage of your tonsils.”
He blanched a little at that, then lowered the camera. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but you know the drill,” he said. “This is the job.”
“Believe me, I know. And I sympathize.” Her breath caught a little there, and she wondered if he had any idea just how much she sympathized. How deeply she’d gotten into all this.
Amy knew, thank God. She’d been the one ordering everyone to stay put when Jonah had stormed off set, sloshing water onto the sound equipment as he marched across the cold cobblestone path.
“Hold your places, everyone,” Amy had shouted as Kate tore across the patio on Jonah’s heels. “Kate’s the one on our legal rider who’s licensed to deal with situations like this. Plus she has advanced training in meltdown management.”
It was total bullshit, but what did it matter? Amy had kept everyone at bay for the moment.
Well, everyone but Pete.
Kate glared at the cameraman. “Pete,” she warned, glancing at the camera. It was still rolling, even if it wasn’t perched on his shoulder. “One, two, three . . .”
Pete rested one grizzly bear paw on the counter, looking conflicted. He glanced back at the door behind him as though expecting Chase Whitfield to come charging through at any moment and fire him.
Kate could feel his pain. But she could feel her own a lot more vividly at the moment.
“ . . . Four, five, six . . .”
She gritted her teeth and stared at the camera, wondering if she’d really do it. If she had it in her to break an expensive piece of equipment or risk her job. At this point anything seemed possible. She wanted to break something or smash something or?—
“Um, Kate?”
She glared at Pete. “What?”
“I think your man just got away.”
She whirled around just in time to see headlights flick on, followed by the rev of an engine. As she started toward the door, she heard gravel churning and the squeal of tires.
“Goddammit!”
She started toward the door, but knew it was too late. Yanking a bobby pin from her hair, she stuck it in the lock on the powder room door and jimmied it open. Pushing her way inside, she spotted a trail of water leading to the door that opened onto the carport. She’d forgotten about the damn door.
“Fuck!”
She stared at the wet footprints on Viv’s otherwise spotless wood floors. Then she turned back to Pete. “Did he just take off barefoot in his wet shorts?”
“He was pretty mad.”
Kate balled her hands into fists and closed her eyes, wishing she could hit rewind on the whole evening. On so many other things.
She opened her eyes and turned to face Pete again. “Why don’t you get packed up,” she said slowly. “We’re done here for now.”
“Will do.” He seemed to hesitate. “Are you okay?”
Kate nodded, but didn’t say anything. She was gritting her teeth too hard. Pete continued watching her, looking leery about leaving her alone.
“Good work today,” she said at last, straightening up. A lock of hair fell across her forehead, and she thought about putting the bobby pin back in place. Did it even matter? “It was a long day. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
Pete still didn’t say anything, but he watched her face like he wasn’t sure what to do next. She could hear the chatter of voices outside on the patio, probably crew members who’d noticed Jonah’s escape.
But here in the entryway, it was just the two of them—her and Pete—with sympathy warming the cameraman’s dark-brown eyes.
“It’s not your fault, Kate,” he said softly. “You did what you had to do.”
