TURN ME ON

by Kristin Hardy

  "Stef, that's what you do at nineteen."

  "That's what you did—but I couldn't." His expression tightened. "Not with my parents threatening to pull the plug at the slightest whiff of failure. Even my grandmother was always on me about getting a real job and getting married and having a mess of kids like my uncle. 'Why don't you find a nice Greek girl? Why don't you get out of that place and come back to a decent city?'"

  He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "When I saw you getting out of that hot tub that night, it shocked me. Maybe it shouldn't have, but it did. And yeah, it pissed me off that you were naked with someone you hardly knew, that what we were together didn't mean more than that to you. God, Sabrina, we'd been talking about moving in together."

  She remembered the look of disgust on his face as she'd risen from the tub, and she remembered going after him, just a towel wrapped around her. "I was with people I'd known since kindergarten," she said, hating herself for sounding defensive. "Everybody but that one guy, and he was Rob's roommate. I felt safe. I didn't realize I'd get left alone with him, or that he'd paw me. And I didn't realize how you'd take it."

  "That was it—you didn't know. Maybe looking back it's easy to see why that was. But the whole incident made me see how different we were. I mean, here I'm working my ass off trying to stay in school while my grandmother, the only person who really showed any interest in me growing up, is telling me to settle down with a nice Greek girl, and you're hot-tubbing naked because it's no big thing where you come from—which suddenly looked like some other galaxy. And I couldn't see how who you were and where you came from could ever fit with who I was and what I wanted.

  "And it hurt like hell. So I had to make it stop."

  The remembered hurt of their breakup shivered through her. She stared at him as he sat in silence. "You were pretty harsh about it."

  "How do you speak when you're convinced you don't know the language? Or when you're not sure the other person even cares?"

  "Of course I cared. How could you not think I wouldn't after all the time we spent together?"

  "Because you were the girl in the hot tub—and I was the guy who did nothing but work. And that seemed to sum it up right there."

  If they were talking about a past that was dead and gone, how was it that she was fighting back tears? "So that's how you think of me—some spoiled, rich, party girl?" She stared at the ceiling until she was sure she could talk. "That's not what I was then, but afterward? After you left, I made a career out of it." She remembered it all—the endless flights; bouncing around from resort to resort; the nameless, faceless, gutless people she spent years of her life hanging out with. "The thing is, everything becomes boring if you do it long enough. Somewhere along the line, you find yourself just going through the motions." She shook her head. "That's what I realized after my father died. We've talked about this already. I thought you understood."

  "I do," he murmured.

  "So, then what were you thinking tonight at the party?"

  Stef looked down at their intertwined fingers. "I guess I just had a flashback. I know you've changed, Sabrina. I can see it. You don't have to feel like you've got to prove it, least of all to me. It's just … you've had five years to watch this happen. I've only had a month, plus what I read in the newspapers. It takes some getting used to."

  "You followed me in the newspapers?"

  He scrubbed his hair out of his face. "Pathetic, isn't it? Every time I opened a magazine or looked at an entertainment section, you were there—off in that galaxy of yours. And I'd see your face and tell myself I was just going to page by, that we were done and over and it didn't mean anything. But I'd always find myself turning back to read it. And it used to make me so damned mad to see you trivializing yourself, because I knew you were capable of so much more. And it used to make me crazy that no matter what I did, I couldn't get you out of my head."

  "Well, nothing I tried worked with you, either." Her voice was wry.

  "You couldn't have seen me in the paper."

  She flicked a glance up at the ceiling. "That didn't help. I didn't want to think of you. I told myself you were just some jerk of a film student. I told myself you didn't matter."

  "And what do you think now?"

  She leaned over and pressed her lips to his.

  "That's not an answer."

  "I'm not sure I have one," she said slowly. "This feels good and it feels right. I think that has to be enough for the time being."

  * * *

  17

  « ^ »

  "Uncle Gus?"

  "Well, here's a surprise!" Gus Stirling rose and walked across his office to envelop Sabrina in a bear hug. "Are you sick of running your own show? Want to come back to work for me?"

  She grinned. "Nope, we're in the middle of postproduction. I've got plenty to keep me busy. But, Gus, look." She handed him a videotape with a hand that hardly shook. "It's the rough cut for the pilot."

  His eyes widened. "Congratulations! This calls for a celebration. I think all I have is some Junior Mints. The doctor told me to stay off alcohol and caffeine."

  "That sounds like a misery."

  "Not necessarily. I think I'm happier now that I can sleep through half of the boring meetings I get stuck in." His teeth gleamed in a smile. "So, what do you say? Can we watch the tape?"

  "I was hoping you would. This is your copy. I'm taking the other one over to the Home Cinema studios right now." She watched him turn on the television that sat in a corner of his office and stick the tape into the VCR. "I figure I'll give Royce Schuyler a peek, see if we can't close on some business on the basis of this one."

  She sat next to him, her palms damp, as the opening animation sequence flashed on the screen. Somehow, she was more nervous in front of Gus than she would be in front of a stranger. Gus would be a good test of whether the doc worked or not. She'd get an honest opinion and, she prayed, a positive one. She so wanted him to be proud of her.

  The tape was still raw, with no links between segments and much of it missing a sound track. Still, Gus watched it intently. When he laughed at the right spots and whistled at others, she began fractionally to relax. The final segment ended in an abrupt cut.

  "We'll have closing credits here. We're going to link the segments with street interviews and short animation bits." She cleared her throat. "What do you think?"

  He picked up the remote, shut the VCR off and then straightened up and looked at her. "I think you've got yourself a hit."

  "You really like it?" she asked anxiously. "You're not just saying that?"

  "I really liked it. I think it has just the right tone—fun, funny, insightful. It's more than just sex. You and your crew have put together quite a package."

  "Oh, Gus!" She rose to wrap her arms around him.

  Gus beamed at her. "That's my girl. I knew you could pull it off."

  "On time and on budget," she said proudly.

  "I expected nothing less. How did the filming go, by the way?" His voice took on an innocent tone as he set the tape to rewind. "Your crew work out okay?"

  Sabrina eyed him narrowly. "Work out in what context?"

  "I know you had reservations about Costas. I was just curious about how it went."

  "Well, everything wound up being fine. You were right, of course—he was perfect for the doc. It'll be hard to find a follow-up act for him, but the pilot establishes the style of camerawork and the framework for the production."

  "You can't get him to stay on?"

  He had no idea how difficult a question he was asking. "He's got the Greek shoot to do, remember?"

  "No way you can postpone your series?"

  Sabrina snorted. "Not if I'm lucky. We'll see what Schuyler has to say, but I'm hoping they'll come in with a buy on the basis of the pilot. It's going to be a hustle as it is to get enough segments together for the spring season. I couldn't possibly wait for him. As it is, I may need to set up two separate film crews to get it all done."

/>   "Well, if you'd wanted something easy, you'd have stayed working for other people."

  She raised her eyebrows. "Is that a polite way of saying I'm a masochist?"

  "No," he said, "it just means you don't shrink from a challenge. You're your father's daughter, all right."

  "Am I, Gus?"

  "He'd have been proud of you, that's for sure." Gus crossed to her and rested his hands on her shoulders, smiling. He kissed her on the top of the head. "Now, go sell that pilot to Royce Shuyler."

  * * *

  Stef slouched in the chair in front of the editing machine, running through the footage Sabrina had chosen from the street interviews. It was his job to winnow the segments down further, choosing the montages that would best bridge the gaps between segments. When the office intercom beeped, he picked up the phone without looking. "Yeah?"

  "Gus Stirling is out here to see you."

  Stef blinked and stopped the editing machine. Funding sources always took priority, especially when they were friends. He stepped outside of the darkened editing room, squinting at the light. "Hey, Gus, good to see you." They shook hands, Stef marveling as always at the strength of the older man's grip. "Still keeping up with your tennis, I see."

  "Wouldn't miss it."

  "Come on in," Stef said, waving him into his office. "Have a seat. So what can I do for you?"

  "Oh, I was in the neighborhood and figured I'd stop by."

  Gus never just "stopped by." Stef looked at him warily. "Did you get the budget sheets from Mitch?"

  Gus sank down in the visitor's chair. "A few days ago."

  "A few days ago?" Stef frowned. "We've had them finalized for a couple of weeks."

  "I got to be quite good friends with his secretary before I managed to get him on the phone directly."

  Stef made a note to himself on the pad that sat by his telephone. "If you have problems getting things from him in the future, just let me know. I'll take care of you. The question is, do the numbers work for you?"

  "Well, you know my philosophy as an investor," Gus said comfortably. "You find a worthy project and then you trust the team to do their job. If you feel like you've got to monitor them every step of the way, then you've probably picked the wrong team." Gus gave him an affable smile. "Judging by the numbers, it looks like you folks have got everything in hand. When do you head to Greece?"

  Stef checked the calendar on the wall. "In just over two weeks. We'll take a week to prep once we get there and start shooting right after."

  "Good. I saw the rough cut of Sabrina's documentary, by the way."

  Here it was, Stef thought, the real reason for the old fox's visit. "What did you think?"

  "Well, it needs finishing, obviously, but it's a good piece. I really think they're going to go for it."

  "Do you think it'll win an audience?"

  "Hard for it not to, don't you think? There's always a fascination about sex—what people do, what they don't do. People can't resist finding out what their neighbors are up to. Oh, I think it'll gain a following, all right."

  "Good," Stef said in satisfaction.

  "You came through on our bargain. I owe you one."

  "You don't owe me a thing, Gus. You pulled me out of a hole by coming through with the financing. It was my pleasure." It was more than a pleasure; it had changed his life. If it hadn't been for Gus and his ideas, Sabrina would have remained a taunting memory, instead of becoming something more.

  Whatever that was.

  "What did you think of my goddaughter?" Gus asked, as though he'd been reading Stef's mind. "As a producer, I mean."

  Stef leaned back in his chair. "I thought she was good. Seriously good."

  Gus nodded. "I told you. She's been working hard for a lot of years to get to this point. She's pretty well held every job in the line. It's hard to argue with that kind of experience. She's not just a pretty face, although she certainly is pretty. Mind you, I'm biased." He paused.

  Stef fought a smile. He'd never been pumped in quite so discreet a fashion. "You'll get no arguments from me." And precious few details, also. He doubted that Gus would be thrilled to hear about his goddaughter joining the mile high club, for example. Still, he'd throw him a bone to make him happy. "If I thought that Sabrina would be satisfied working on my kind of doc, I'd try to get her on my team. As you're aware, my producer has his moments."

  "Have you talked with her about it?"

  "They're really not her kind of thing, Gus. Besides, if this True Sex series takes off, she'll have her hands full with that."

  Gus steepled his fingers together against his chin. "I've always been a believer that you should never rule anything out without exploring it."

  Oh, he'd be quite happy exploring Sabrina, Stef thought. "Maybe sometime in the future."

  "You never know, maybe in the future she'll have partnered with another director and you'll have lost your window."

  In a different way, that was exactly what was concerning him. Not that he'd have lost his window to work with her, but that he'd lose his opportunity to be with her, period.

  Gus checked his watch and rose. "At any rate, I've got a lunch appointment to get to, so I'll let you get back to the editing. You've done some good work for my goddaughter," he said as they shook hands. "And you may not call it a favor but I do, and I won't forget it."

  Stef showed the older man to the door and walked thoughtfully back into his office. What Gus had said was inescapable—the window was closing on his time with Sabrina.

  The question was, what happened now? According to the schedules, he'd spend another two weeks working postproduction and then leave for Greece. The filming there was currently scheduled to last four to six months, by the time he finished with all of the sites and the interviews. He sighed. The problem was, it was the worst possible time to leave. Nothing had been settled between them. Sure, they'd established that they had feelings for one another, but that was about it. Sabrina was still skittish and he wasn't entirely clear himself on how they would make things work, only that he was pretty sure he wanted to.

  Canceling the Greek shoot wasn't an option. The window there was also limited, and too much time and money were already involved. So he basically had three options. He could go off to Greece leaving things as they were and hope to pick it up when he returned, assuming she hadn't gotten involved with someone else. Or they could have a serious talk before he left and try to keep things going via phone and e-mail.

  Or he could ask her to come with him. Things were on hiatus with her project until she got a firm deal with the cable network and the money came through. She could come to Greece and stay, even for a couple of weeks, for as long as her schedule was clear. If he posed it to her as a collaboration, it wouldn't come off as if he were expecting her to chase him around the globe or as if he didn't respect her career. He'd be asking her to come along because he valued the skills she'd bring to the project. Maybe he'd even offer her one of his percentage points.

  No, it wouldn't be Mykonos and all the glamour she was used to, but that wasn't what she was about anymore. She'd told him that she'd given up party time and he believed her.

  He rose to return to the editing room and sighed again. He could splice film to make a story turn out any way he wanted. Why couldn't he do the same thing in real life?

  * * *

  His shoulders and neck were tight from the hours of hunching over the editing machine, but Stef had most of the street interview segments cleaned up. It was a good day's work, he thought, rubbing his trapezius muscles. Maybe someday he'd get that computer editing system and give up his trusted methods.

  There was a brisk rap on the door and Sabrina burst in, grinning madly. She wore a dress of some silvery fabric that laced up the sides and flapped around her upper thighs in a fringe.

  "They loved it!" she burst out as he rose from his chair. "I showed Schuyler the rough cut and he liked it so much he dragged a couple of the other programming guys in to watch!" She threw her ar
ms around him and gave him a great smacking kiss, then danced him in a circle.

  "That's great!" Stef squeezed her and then whirled her around for the sheer joy of it.

  "Oh, it's the best! You can't imagine." She bounced on her toes. "They want to buy the pilot on the basis of the rough cut. He said they're going to meet on the series, but he expects them to make an official buy as early as next week. Oh, Stef, there's no way it would have been this good if it hadn't been for you and your crew."

  "Hey, you were the one with the idea. We just executed it."

  "And that's the part that counts," she reminded him. "You've put so much of yourself into this. I don't know how to thank you."

  "Remember, there's a long way to go from a rough cut to a finished product," he warned. "I'm not going to finish the postproduction before I leave here. You've got a lot more work to do."

  "I know, I know, I know, but the important thing is that they liked it so far." The delight on her face was infectious.

  "Well, you look like you're dressed to celebrate. Where do you want to go?"

  She stopped, then visibly gathered her wits. "Well, actually, I can't, at least not tonight," she said rapidly. "Remember? I'm going to that premiere with Matt."

  "Matt?"

  "My cousin? Remember, his new shoot-'em-up is coming out?"

  The disappointment was thick and baffling. "Oh, right."

  "I shouldn't cancel. I haven't seen him in ages and he's promised to introduce me to a couple of people who might be interested in getting in on the financing of the series. I need to schmooze. Besides," she twirled around, "I'm in the mood to celebrate. You can meet us at the party if you want."

  Something twisted in him. "I doubt I'm on the guest list," he said quietly.

  "That doesn't matter. Matt's got an open pass everywhere in this town."

  "I should probably stay here and finish cutting the street interviews," he said. "We can go someplace tomorrow."

  A trace of concern crossed her face and then it brightened. "Of course, anywhere you want." She crossed over to hug him tightly. "I've got to go. Thank you, Stef, really." He felt her body mold to his briefly, then she drew away. "I'll call you tomorrow," she said over her shoulder as she left, trailing stardust.