She tilted her head to look at him. “You don’t have to babysit me again. I feel bad enough about everything that’s happened and how great you’ve been. Let me do this for you.”
“Ava.” Her name felt like a whisper in his mouth. “I’d like to watch the movies, too.”
“Why? Don’t think I can come up with some searing questions on my own? Because I can.” She shook her head, setting her ponytail bobbing. “Also, how am I supposed to express my appreciation for last night if you insist on doing my job for me?”
He could think of a much better way. Might have even vocalized it six months ago. Before things had changed. Before he’d changed. Now he only smiled. “You just had surgery. I don’t want you to push yourself.”
“Sitting around and watching movies is hardly pushing myself.”
It was his turn to shake his head. “What if you’re wrong? I need to be able to step in and run the interviews.”
“No.” She held up her good hand. “That will not happen. It just can’t.” He could read the fear and assurance as they took turns sliding across her face. “I’m fine, totally fine. And I’m doing the circuit tomorrow. So I’ll handle the viewings and you can have that relaxing evening you missed out on last night. I’ll even order for you.”
That she’d remembered touched him, and if tomorrow was simply about willpower, he’d agree that they had nothing to worry about. But the body didn’t always respond to willpower. Not when there was surgery and actual physical damage involved. It could wake you up in the morning and knock you on your ass. “Let’s table that discussion for now. We’ll see how you’re feeling later.”
“Table the discussion?” She frowned at him. “You’ve spent way too much time in the boardroom. Table the discussion. Were you watching Wall Street last night?”
“I was with you last night.” He felt a little thump in his chest when he said it. Rachel would probably tell him it was a sign that he needed to get back in the game. But he’d had a lot of years ignoring his little sister’s advice and he saw no reason to change that now. “After Brandon and I are done editing today, I’ll swing by your room with the movies. Probably around five.”
That would be early enough to see if he needed to fly out another reporter. Jake wondered if maybe he should just fly someone out anyway.
“Hold on a minute.” Ava’s eyebrows came together. “What are you and Brandon editing?”
He told her about the morning’s panel, which Brandon should still be at. “I’m hoping we’ll get enough for a story. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours in the editing suite.”
She smirked. “When’s the last time you wrote copy?”
Jake might have felt insulted if he hadn’t seen the spark of professional pride in her expression. “A few years.” Once he’d moved into a position that was more about managing and delegating, he’d stopped doing the detail work himself. He’d never been that great at it to begin with.
“And Brandon’s bringing the footage by when?”
Jake glanced at his watch. “About an hour from now.”
“There’s no way you’ll be done by five. Even if you two manage to view all the film at warp speed, you still have to put it into a story, write the voice-over and record it.” She frowned. “Speaking of, who’s doing the voice-over?”
“Me.”
“So you’re going to do everything by five? No way. Not even if you were used to writing copy. I’ll swing by. What time do you think you’ll finish with the footage?”
“Ava. Come on.” Even if she hadn’t been right about his ability to write copy, he would have objected. “You need to take it easy today.”
“I will be. Normally, I’d be in the suite for the viewing, too.”
“I can handle it for today. I’d rather you rest so that you can work tomorrow.”
“I can do both.” She raised her chin, a little jut to it now. “The doctor said if I felt up to it, I’m allowed to take on some light duties. Since my entire job is light duties, I can be back in action in a few hours.”
He debated his options. He could tell her that she wasn’t welcome in the editing suite and insist that she stay in bed. Good luck with getting her to obey that order, though. He could try to convince her that she didn’t want to come out today, but the quick refusal with which she’d already greeted that made him realize it would be futile to bring it up a second time. Or he could trust that she was an adult and knew her own limits. If she thought she could do it, he had to believe that she was right.
“Jake?” She sounded irritated now. “What time should I be there?”
He studied her. “You’re sure I can’t convince you to take it easy today?”
“No.”
“Okay, but you have to promise me that if you feel even the slightest bit tired or unwell, you won’t come. I mean it, Ava.” He pinned her with a look. “I need you to be ready for tomorrow, and insisting on doing a little work tonight only to miss a lot of work tomorrow is a problem for everyone.”
“I promise I’ll be fine.”
“Then be there by four.”
Her smile was one of pure pleasure that had him glad he’d already given her his coat so he didn’t have to shrug it off.
“And we watch the movies together tonight,” he added.
“You didn’t say that was part of the deal. I thought I’d watch them this afternoon.”
“No.” His refusal was succinct. “You’re taking a nap this afternoon or the deal is off.” She was by far his best reporter. Having her around and healthy, even semihealthy, was his best option to make sure that Rockdale went smoothly.
“Deal.” She pouted. “Slave driver.”
“You know it.” He grinned, pleased that she’d given in without a fight. Though last night hadn’t exactly been relaxing, Jake had still enjoyed being with her. He hadn’t been to a festival in years and he’d forgotten that immediate camaraderie that developed between good teams. He was looking forward to spending more time with her. Hopefully not in the E.R.
They pulled up to the hotel and he helped her out of the cab, keeping one hand on the small of her back until he’d safely delivered her to her room.
* * *
BY QUARTER TO FOUR, Ava had updated her blog, changed into something that didn’t reek of hospital and managed to squeeze in a visit to the hotel’s salon for a quick blowout. Her hair now fell in soft waves around her face, a massive improvement over this morning’s ponytail.
It wasn’t that she was trying to impress Jake with her looks. She wasn’t attractive enough for that, not in the land of the long-legged, slim-bodied, glossy-haired Hollywood star. But she was representing her station at one of Hollywood’s biggest film festivals, so she needed to look her best. Really, it had nothing to do with Jake. Nothing at all.
As she got into a cab, Ava was feeling pretty good. Her wrist didn’t hurt too much, the painkillers prescribed by the doctor seemed to be keeping most of the discomfort at bay, the afternoon was crisp and clear, and she was ready to get back to work.
It was time to show Mr. Durham just how good she was at her job.
The building that housed the suites was busy. Though most doors were closed, it was clear the rooms were occupied. Lights glowed from beneath and the low rumble of voices, occasionally pierced by a delighted laugh or annoyed shout, indicated they weren’t the only team on-site pulling together a story. The smell of fried food permeated the air, a staple of the long days an
d longer nights when grabbing a meal was second to getting a scoop.
She hoped to eat something nicer tonight. Besides being unable to handle the late-night parties that left her face looking ravaged, she found that fast food made her skin oily and prone to breakouts. God, was she getting too old for this? She shook off the thought before it dared to take root. In a business where youth was king, as evidenced by the fact that seemingly every actor—no matter how young or famous—had undergone touch-ups to look a little fresher, even thinking old was a death blow.
Her boot heels clicked down the hall as she made her way to the suite number Jake had texted her. She’d thought about wearing sneakers, but her boots were warmer. Plus, weren’t you supposed to get back on the horse when you got bucked off? And they made her legs look really long, quite a feat since she was only five foot two.
The room was deep in the building, but that was good. They’d be less likely to be interrupted by other media outlets, many of whom she was familiar with from covering festivals for the past few years.
It was quiet behind the door and she figured Jake and Brandon were in the middle of watching something or writing. Not wanting to disrupt the creative process, she opened the door as silently as possible and slipped inside.
The monitors were on, running a shot of a panel with a few famous faces. Ava glanced around the room. Brandon wasn’t even there.
“Hey.” Jake looked up from the desk where he was scribbling on a piece of paper and smiled. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Great, even.” She slipped out of her coat and hung it in the closet, checking the shadows just in case Brandon was tucked away in one of them. But there was no sign of the young cameraman. “Where’s Brandon?”
“I sent him off for the night.” Jake smiled at her again, which sent her already bouncing nerves on another trip. “He said he had a line on a great party.”
“Of course he did.” Ava took a seat near Jake and reminded herself that she was just here to do some voice-over work. Not a big deal and something she’d done a million times before. No reason for butterflies. Even if Jake was wearing those jeans.
“How’s your arm? You feeling okay?” He crossed the room to grab a bottle of water from a small collection sitting on a table. “You want one?”
“No, I’m fine.” She tried not to notice the jeans. Damn those jeans. Was she going to have to steal them and burn them? “The arm is good.” She waved it to show that it wasn’t just talk.
“Great, then let’s get started.” He gestured for her to take a seat in front of the screen. She did, swallowing hard when he stood behind her.
He pushed a couple of buttons, turning the monitor dark before it started again. This time the footage had a clear story arc, though it was a rough cut. They watched it through once and then Jake handed her the script he’d written. Normally, she preferred to write her own patter, but this wasn’t a normal situation. She read it over, running the footage through her brain as she did. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. Still, she made a few notes, changed some things around to make the copy flow better and then asked him to run the cut footage again. This time she tightened the commentary even more and did a complete rewrite of the introduction before she handed it back to him.
Not that she’d needed to. He’d been standing over her shoulder reading the whole thing. But that was fine. She could show him what she was made of, and it was sterner stuff than his preamble about the picturesque town nestled at the foot of a majestic mountain range. It was the same meaningless intro that would be used in all the second-rate broadcasts and more than half of the first.
He read it over. “I like this. It’s better than mine.”
She couldn’t help the small flush of pleasure. “It is what I do for a living.”
His mouth twisted at the corner in that way she found so sexy. Stupid sexy smile. “Point taken.”
The recording took a while, taping and retaping, eliminating phrases that didn’t work and adding different ones when a better bridge from shot to shot was required. Ava exhaled when they finished, pleased that when they started to dub in her taped words, her voice didn’t sound shaky or quivery or anything at all like she was feeling inside.
Look at her. Professional Career Woman Kicking Butt and Taking Names. Her mother would be so proud.
“Nice. Let’s call it a wrap,” Jake said with a smile that was clearly designed to knock a woman’s socks off, and she felt her toes tingle. Great. Just great.
She hooked her bag over her good shoulder and then positioned it directly in front of her. Nothing like using her purse as protection or, at least, to get in the way, should she decide to throw herself at him.
Which, of course, would never happen, but still, it didn’t hurt to be prepared.
While Jake collected his belongings, Ava turned her BlackBerry back on and scrolled through the menu. Two missed calls. Both from her mother.
She’d tried to call her mom earlier this afternoon to tell her about the accident, but had gotten no answer. No doubt Barbara was at a meeting or some other business-type event. So Ava had simply left a message to call back.
And now she had. Ava considered her options. She could wait until she got to the hotel to call, but that would just be postponing things. And taking a moment to speak to her mother now might cool some of the ardor she was beginning to feel. Nothing like talking to a mother to kill a person’s sex drive.
She excused herself to Jake and went into the hallway. It was cooler out here and she rested her forehead against the wall while she dialed her mom.
“Barbara Christensen.” Her mother always answered like that even though she should know it was Ava by the ringtone. Ava had downloaded the Black Eyed Peas’ “Hey Mama” onto her mother’s phone as her signature ringtone and she knew it was still on there because just last week Barbara had asked how to get it off.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, dear. How are you? How is the festival?”
“Fine.”
“Good. How are things going with your new producer? Have you given any thought to how to show him that you’re ready for more responsibility? I feel strongly that a list could help in this instance.”
“Mom.” Ava cut her mother off before she could really get going. “I have something to tell you, but I don’t want you to worry.”
There was a short pause. “Well, really, Ava. I don’t know how you can expect me not to worry with a statement like that. What’s wrong?”
“It’s very minor and it’s all been taken care of. But I slipped on some ice and broke my wrist.” She plowed through her mother’s sharp intake of breath. “I needed surgery, but it went well and everything is fine.” Well, everything except that her little crush on Jake was coming back into play. “In fact, I’m working right now, so there is nothing for you to worry about.”
But, of course, her reassurances seemed to fall on deaf ears. “What kind of break? Are you sure the surgery was done correctly? Who was the doctor?” And on and on until Ava felt as if she was being interrogated for being a klutz.
She answered her mother’s questions to the best of her ability. Was still answering them when Jake came out a few minutes later. He grinned at her, apparently enjoying her predicament. She rolled her eyes at him. Oh, sure. It was easy for him to laugh. He wasn’t the one under formal investigation.
She turned her attention back to her mother who was still cross-examining away. “No, Mom, it wasn’t the shoes.
” She’d have crossed her fingers, but the cast made that impossible. She settled for crossing her legs. “It was just one of those things.” Jake’s snort filled the hallway. She ignored him.
“You were wearing those heeled boots you love, weren’t you?” Her mother sighed heavily. “I don’t know why you insist on wearing those heels. They cause knee and back problems, can shorten your calf muscles, can give you bunions—”
“I said I wasn’t wearing the boots.” Because she sure wasn’t going to admit to it now. She swatted at Jake when he pointed to her feet, which made him laugh.
“Who is that laughing?”
“No one,” Ava said and turned her back on the human hyena. “Just someone who thinks he’s way funnier than he actually is.”
“Is that your producer?”
“Yes. I’m at work, Mom.”
“Why is he laughing?”
“He’s a funny guy.” Ava made a slashing motion with her cast, but Jake continued to snicker.
“Ava. I sense that you’re trying to evade my questions. Why?”
“I’m not trying to evade anything.” She would have hung up, but knew her mother would only call back. Endlessly.
“I can tell when you’re trying to hide something from me.”
“What are you, psychic?”
“You know I don’t believe in that,” Barbara answered. “So what are you hiding?”
“I’ve told you everything.” She really wanted to get off the phone. Argh. Why hadn’t she waited and called her mother once she was in the privacy of her hotel room? “Look, I need to go. I still have work to do tonight.” Which wasn’t a lie. “Can you just schedule an appointment with one of your experts and I’ll see him when I’m back home?”
“It’s a her and I’ve already noted that. Have you spoken to your producer about your injury? Is he aware of the severity of a fracture that requires surgery and how it needs to be treated?”
That Weekend... Page 9