by Kay Harris
“And how did your dad meet your mom? I mean, she was a park ranger, right? How does a park ranger meet a rock star? Was she a groupie?”
He laughed. “No, nothing ordinary like that. They picked her up hitchhiking. Anyway, they met and fell in love, and that’s where I came in. They were so tight with Hank, they named me after him, because of course, his real name is Henry.”
“And you have a sister, Gloria?”
He nodded. “She’s named after my grandmother.”
“Is Hank’s kid named after anyone?”
“Yeah, my dad. His real name is Sean Daniel. But my uncle is kind of the king of nicknames. So he called him ‘Danny’ from birth, and it stuck. He calls my mom ‘Baby,’ and that really stuck. I don’t think most people even know her real name.”
“What about you, do you have a nickname?” I asked.
“Hmmm.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I don’t have one, at least not a nickname that everyone calls me.”
I could sense he was hiding something. “You’re stalling,” I accused.
Henry let out a deep sigh. “My dad calls me ‘Buddy.’ It started when I was a little bitty kid, but he still does it to this very day. It’s embarrassing as hell. But who’s gonna argue with my dad?” He shrugged.
“Buddy?”
“Don’t dwell, or I’ll call you Chels,” he threatened.
I still wasn’t sure I would mind. But I ignored that and asked him, “Who are you closest to?”
“Damn. That’s a hard question.”
“I can tell you I love all my family. But to be honest, I’m closest to my oldest brother, Jack. No denying it.”
“If I had to pick…I guess I’d have to say my dad.” He shrugged. “But that’s just because we are a lot alike.”
“Hmmm.” I decided to rib him until I got the information I really wanted. “But he wouldn’t ever do anything like this?”
“You mean the show? No, he wouldn’t. In fact, I’m still reeling from the fact that I got talked into it.”
“So, how did that happen?”
Henry filled my glass back up. “No way. I just told you my convoluted family tree. It’s your turn. I want to know how you ended up here.”
It was getting easier to talk to Henry by the minute. He had a quiet, calming presence, and I was feeling relaxed. So I sat back in my chair, propping my feet on the rungs of the table and rested my wine glass in my hands. “When I was in seventh grade, my oldest brother, Jack, took off.”
“Took off?”
“Yep. He disappeared. Went to Rio, it turned out. He called every few months so we knew he was alive, but that was it. No visits, nothing. He was gone for five long years.”
“That must have been hard, especially since you’re close.”
“It was,” I admitted. “He wrote me letters regularly. But it wasn’t the same. Jack’s leaving was really hard on me.” I shifted in my seat. “Anyway, when he came back, he made it crystal clear he was no longer the heir apparent to run the company. In fact, as you know, he set up his nonprofit to fight the company and everything it did.”
“How did that go over?” Henry asked, a very sincere look of interest on his gorgeous face.
“Better than you would expect. My parents were happy to have Jack back. And my dad couldn’t argue that the family business wasn’t bad for people. So he let Jack do his thing, and he set changes in motion that would eventually lead to a whole different kind of company. But the bottom line was he still needed someone to leave the helm to. My uncle never had any kids, so that left me and Hayden.”
“And you already said Hayden was a playboy,” he pointed out.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. He was straight out of a TV exposé. He partied, he hung out on yachts, and narrowly escaped prosecution in far-off countries. And he dated girls like…”
“Tyressa?”
I laughed. “Exactly like her. Meanwhile, I was studying my ass off and getting good grades. Valedictorian at my prep school,” I told him proudly.
“I have no doubt.”
“So, my dad decided I was the one who would lead the company one day.”
“Only you had other ideas?”
“I sure did. I’d been in charge of making the family movies since I was about five. And then I was making them for friends. And I was in the film club at school. And when Jack came back, I made documentaries for him about the housing problem. It was my passion. I wanted to make movies. I wanted to be the next Ken Burns. So I went to a school that had both a film major and a business school. With my dad satisfied that I was going to school to be the next CEO of Morrison and Sons, I took the classes I wanted to take.”
“Right under his nose,” Henry said, raising his glass to me.
“For a while. But I eventually told him.”
“And?” he coaxed.
“He was pissed. And he was understanding, disappointed, and loving all at once. He’s kind of confusing like that.”
“Hmmm,” Henry mumbled knowingly.
“Did your dad want you to be a musician?” I asked.
“No. But we’re not on me yet. So, you went to film school. What happened next?”
“I took an unpaid internship that I absolutely loved. Then when I graduated, I got some suspicious job offers.”
“Suspicious?”
“Yeah, friends or business acquaintances of my dad’s were calling, offering me jobs I wasn’t anywhere near qualified for. So I turned them all down and took a job with Trek. It pays crap, they treat me like I’m an imbecile, even though I’m the best they have, and people apologize when I tell them where I work. But this is the path I’m taking. No shortcuts.”
“Good for you,” Henry said, raising his glass to me before finishing his wine.
I finished my own wine and set the glass back on the table. “And now it’s your turn.”
He stood. “How about we do it over margaritas in Cancun? I gotta get some sleep before getting stuck on a tiny jet with Tyressa for several hours tomorrow.”
The travel situation had us all on the same chartered plane. But, as small as it was, the thing was still separated into classes. Snarky Steve insisted Henry sit up front with him, Tyressa, and the two directors, Rodney and Heath. That left me, Tom, and Gerry in the back with the other crew. I didn’t care. I sat with Tom and bullshitted or slept through the flights. But, apparently, it was a little rougher for Henry.
I stood and made my way to the door. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t go back on my word. I enjoy talking to you, Chelsea.”
My stomach wanted to grow butterflies, or flip over, or quiver. But I didn’t let it. Henry was a coworker I could talk to just like Tom. Okay, maybe not like Tom. But I wasn’t going to let my stupid crush on a man I could never have ruin a pleasant companionship on this hell trip.
Chapter 5
Seven months, two weeks ago—Jackson, Mississippi
Tom threw his equipment bag in the back of the van and slammed the door closed before stalking to the driver’s side and practically assaulting the seat with his ass. Henry and I, both already in the van, watched him before turning to exchange a glance of confusion.
Tom wrenched the key in the ignition and reached to shift gears. I put my hand over his, stopping him. “Hey, Tom. Is everything okay?”
Tom moved his hand off the gearshift and sat back in the seat. “Oh, Chels,” he said, a deep sigh leaving his lips.
I was really starting to worry. I looked over my shoulder at Henry, who was perched in the back seat, leaning forward. His brow was furrowed. I turned back to Tom. “What’s going on, Tom?”
Tom turned to look at me. “I had a drink with that Jake kid last night,” he said, referring to the cameraman on Tyressa’s crew. “You know this is that little punk’s first gig with Trek?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Fuck, Chels. He’s a newbie. Fresh out of college. He doesn’t have your experience, and
he isn’t half as good as you. They throw out at least a third of the shit he films.”
“And?” I asked again.
“And he makes more money than you! He showed me his fucking pay stub.”
I went still. I wasn’t sure how the hell I was supposed to react to that.
“Maybe they just forgot to give you a raise you were supposed to get,” Henry suggested gently.
I ran a hand down the side of my face and answered automatically, truthfully. “No, I just got a raise at the beginning of this gig.”
“So. What happened? The kid was a tough negotiator?” Henry had a strange tone in his voice. It sounded a lot like desperation.
“The little fucker said that he didn’t negotiate at all. They just offered it to him,” Tom growled. “Believe me, I asked for the fucking details.”
“Shit,” Henry whispered.
My stomach hurt. “Look, let’s just go. We’re supposed to meet Steve in a few minutes.”
“Fuck Steve!” Tom said. “This is his fault. He’s in charge of personnel on this show. He picked those fucking salary rates.”
I leaned back in my seat and folded my arms across my chest. “There’s nothing we can do about it, Tom. There’s no need to get worked up about it.”
Both men stared at me, mouths dropped open.
“Chelsea, don’t you see what’s happening here?” Tom said. “You are being paid less because you have tits! This is bullshit!”
“Total bullshit,” Henry echoed.
“Look, I’m the one with the tits. I’m the one who should be worked up here. And I’m not. Just drive.” But it was a lie. I was practically shaking.
“Fuck,” Tom grumbled, putting the van into gear and pulling out into traffic.
****
Seven months ago—Miami, Florida
I hadn’t done anything about the equal pay situation. Tom had dropped the subject. As for Henry, even if he’d wanted to bring it up, he wouldn’t have had a chance. Outside of looking at him through the viewfinder of my camera, I’d barely seen him at all since New Orleans because when we weren’t shooting, Rodney had me and Tom sitting in a dark room with him cutting film every night.
I’d also never gotten that promised margarita with Henry, meaning that I still hadn’t satisfied my curiosity about why he was even doing all this. Meanwhile, Henry and Tyressa limped from town to town trying to make their assignments appear to be even remotely interesting to them. From Cancun to Vegas to Dallas, Steve sent Henry to bars, clubs, and strip joints while Tyressa snoozed her way through plays, museums, and upscale restaurants.
I watched as Steve got crankier and crankier. Then, finally, in Miami, he seemed to completely lose his shit. He snapped at everyone on the plane all the way there. Then he demanded as soon as we hit the hotel everyone should drop their stuff in their rooms and meet him in the conference room off the lobby.
He was pacing at one end of the room, a scowl on his face, as we all shuffled in. Steve didn’t bother to look at any of us until we were all seated around the oval table. I exchanged a glance with Tom, who just shook his head.
Steve spun around. “We have a problem. I just got off the phone with Ken. He showed the first episode of the show to a test audience.” He paused for dramatic effect. “And they hated it.”
Gerry slumped over. Tyressa’s crew all dropped their jaws as if this was somehow shocking. I wasn’t shocked, and neither was Tom. I looked over at Henry. And he looked…almost pleased.
“Why?” Tyressa cried.
“They loved you,” Steve told her. “And Henry. In fact, the ratings for the two of you were through the roof. The men think you’re hot, and the women are crazy for Henry.”
Henry rolled his eyes, and I suppressed a laugh.
“Then what’s the problem?” Jake asked. I glared at his more-money-making ass.
Steve answered the question but directed it at Henry and Tyressa. “Apparently, they don’t think you look like you’re having fun. In fact, the audience overwhelming agreed you both looked like you were in pain.”
“That’s because you’re sending them to the wrong places.” Every eye in the room turned to me after my outburst, and I could feel myself shrinking into the chair. I pushed my glasses up on my nose and tried to look confident.
“The audience didn’t seem to have any problem with the locations,” Steve snapped in his snarkiest voice.
“That’s not what she means.” Henry turned away from me to look at Steve. His voice, usually quiet and smooth, was raised and rough. “You’re sending Tyressa to museums and shows when she would much rather be out shopping or partying at clubs.”
“I would,” Tyressa said, nodding her head vigorously.
“With all due respect, someone has to do the cultural side of these cities, Henry,” Steve argued.
“Let me do it. I couldn’t care less about all these places you’ve been sending me to. I’d be more than happy to do the cultural sites,” Henry argued.
There was a deep silence in the room. Steve started pacing again, his hands clasped behind his back, his head down. We all watched him. After a good three or four minutes of this little demonstration, Steve stopped and looked up at us all. “Look, Ken is determined to make this show work. And we have to come up with something. So let’s put our heads together.”
“Are you serious?” Tom said, exasperated. “Henry just came up with your solution.”
“Whatever. Let’s just cancel the damn thing instead,” Henry said, folding his arms over his chest, signaling that he was completely done with this asinine conversation.
I knew Henry hated this job, but I didn’t want him to give up. Because even though I hadn’t exactly been on cloud nine over the past month, I wasn’t willing to give up the time with my crush. Also, I hadn’t applied for any other jobs. I could use the next seven months to prepare for my next move.
Steve looked over at Henry, then addressed Tom. “Henry’s idea—that’s not an option.”
“Why not! What’s wrong with Henry’s idea?” Tyressa asked, a pout forming on her lips. “I would love to go to the bars and clubs.”
Steve let out a huge sigh and plopped into the chair at the head of the table. “Because what we do have going for us is that women dig Henry. They’re not going to want to watch a hot, young dude go to museums and shit.”
“I completely disagree.” My mouth was getting me into serious trouble, and once again all eyes in the room turned to me. I squirmed in my seat as they all examined me. I kept my gaze on Steve, purposefully not looking at Henry.
“Chelsea is right. Most of the women I know would say a cultured man is sexy.” I was shocked by the amused lilt Henry’s voice had suddenly taken on.
“Well, Tyressa, as the only other woman in the room, do you agree?”
“Um…I guess,” she said.
“I think a cultured man is sexy,” Tom interjected. “Don’t I count?”
“Sure…I guess. But you have to admit that you are smaller portion of the population,” Steve said, clearly uncomfortable.
Henry chuckled, and I turned to him. He winked at Tom and then addressed Steve again. “Why don’t we just try it? At this point, we don’t have anything to lose.”
Steve seemed to be deep in thought as he examined Henry closely. He rubbed his chin and stared. Finally, he nodded. “Sure. What the hell?”
****
Six months and two weeks ago—Washington, DC
A temperate breeze wafted in through the window, and I took a deep breath. Another day was over. The beautiful weather, glory of springtime in the city, and the presence of Henry Rushton made me warm all over.
“To Chelsea, who’s a freaking genius,” Henry said, raising his glass.
I blushed as I raised my own glass to clink it with his and Tom’s. Then I took a long gulp. After two weeks of a grueling schedule, we’d managed to wrap up a new episode and ship it off to Ken. Tonight, we’d gotten word the new episode had been a hit with tes
t audiences.
“It wasn’t all me,” I said meekly.
“Bullshit. You saved the show,” Henry said. “And you should be getting a raise for it.” I rolled my eyes. Henry gave me a stern look. “To be continued.”
I still hadn’t done anything about my equal pay situation. At least, not anything concrete. I had, in fact, been reading up on job fairness and gender inequalities in pay, particularly in traditionally male-oriented careers like mine. I had also talked to Candace about the whole thing, and we’d discussed what my legal options were if I was unable to negotiate with my boss. I was formulating a solid plan before moving forward. But I hadn’t shared any of that with Henry or Tom.
“I guess this means I’m stuck with this gig for a few more months,” Tom grumbled.
Grateful for the change in subject, I elbowed him and smiled. “You’re just cranky because you need to get laid. When’s Tim coming to meet up with us, anyway?”
“In New York. Just four more days.”
“Way to make me jealous, man. I don’t have a silver lining. We saved the show, now I have to finish the damn thing.” Henry grinned. “And I don’t even have someone flying in every couple weeks to keep me company.”
I leaned back in the chair I was sitting in, wishing that the thing could completely hide me away as my thoughts wandered to all the ways I could keep Henry company.
Tom sat in a chair opposite mine, and Henry sat on the couch between us in the spacious living area of his hotel suite. The three of us had escaped up there as soon as the meeting was over. We’d brought up a bottle of wine and one of those cheese and sausage baskets that was presented to us as a gift from the hotel for shooting at their place. And now we were decompressing after having learned it looked like the show was going to make it after all.
Henry put his feet his up on the coffee table in front of him and crossed his ankles. “Well, it’s a little more fun now, anyway. Tomorrow, we hit the Air and Space Museum. I always liked that place. I’ve been there a few times, so I already know all the best places to go for the show.”