by Mia Carson
“I’m going to have to check that out.”
“Sure. When you sign up, use the promo code NeilGibsonSaysOkay, all one word, first letter of each word capitalized, and okay is spelled out. That’ll give you access to everything on the site for a year, free.”
“Thanks!”
“You’re welcome.”
As he drove me back to my office, he had me in tears of laughter by telling me of some of the things that had happened during filming. He pulled to a stop at my door. This time I had my laptop between my feet. I didn’t feel the need to go with him to his evening class. He wouldn’t do anything in a room full of men and women.
“What’s tomorrow?”
“I do my second session with Harker, then back to Impact! You want me to pick you up again?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve already talked to Harker. I want to do some calling around on Rumson. Why don’t I meet you at Impact!?”
“Fine. We’ll start setting up about eleven.” He grinned at me. “Didn’t get anything from Betty?”
“Who’s Betty? The makeup woman?”
His grin spread. “Yeah. She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?”
I nodded. Talking to her was like talking to a politician. I didn’t get a single straight answer from her, and sometimes she went off on something completely different. She might be a terrific makeup artist, but I wasn’t entirely sure she was all there. I opened the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you there.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I was almost disappointed he didn’t ask me out to dinner again. Because I didn’t have any transcribing to do, I had the evening free. With a mental shrug I turned toward my car.
Neil
I saw a white Honda Accord sitting in front of Impact! Productions as I pulled into another parking space. Tanya was sitting in the car, talking on the phone. She waved in acknowledgment as I stepped out of my car.
I debated waiting on her but decided to go inside. I was going to have to change before the taping because I’d worked up a sweat exercising with Harker. It wouldn’t do to look like a sweaty mess before the workout even started. It was the reason we took a break after filming each segment. We needed time to cool down and change clothes.
I’d just reached the entrance when I heard a car door shut. I waited on her to join me, then opened the door for her.
“Thanks. When this is over, I need to talk to you.”
I felt a chill of anticipation. “About the case?”
“Yeah, but not here.”
“Everyone’s here,” Katy said from behind her desk.
“Thanks,” I replied with a nod and led Tanya into the production area.
The small set I’d been using yesterday was gone, replaced with a huge white screen. When we started filming, a wall of glass with trees and a lake, gently stirred by a breeze, would be rear-projected onto the screen. The concrete floor in front of the screen had been covered in hardwood, with thin rubber mats placed on top. On the video, you’d swear we were standing in some beautiful workout room in the middle of a forest. We would mix up our uniforms and the backdrop would change for each routine for a fresh look.
Three cameras were setup on rolling tripods, and off to the side sat a table with a sound board set up to control the music and my headset mic. Standing to the side was my backup, four men and four women, all dressed in colorful, tight fitting workout clothes, with gleaming white shoes and socks. They were part of the staff who worked the gyms, pulling double duty for a little extra pay. They had been hand-picked by me based on three criteria: how they looked in tight-fitting workout clothing, ability to do the routines without slowing down, and finally, diversity in color or body shape.
“Let me change, then we’ll be ready,” I called as I crossed to the changing screen. We didn’t bother with makeup because we’d just sweat it off anyway.
I quickly stripped out of the clothes I’d been wearing and into the same, tight-fitting uniform the others were wearing. The only difference in our uniforms were the colors. We looked like Skittles with the uniforms dazzling in their yellow, blue, green and red. When I stepped out, Bobby handed me a headset, and I slipped it over my head and positioned the thin mic at my lips.
“Give me a mic check,” he said after he sat down behind his console.
“Mic check.”
“You’re good,” Bobby said, giving me a thumbs up.
“Everyone ready?” I asked as we assembled on the mats.
Everyone took their positions. I was front and center, with the men and women arrayed slightly behind me and staggered so nobody was standing behind anyone else. We’d done over a hundred of these videos, so they knew the drill. I spun my finger in the air and music began playing.
Chip, the director, walked behind each of the cameras then pointed at me. “In your own time.”
“Ready?” I asked again, looking at my entourage.
They all broke into beaming smiles and took a pose, their legs wide apart and their hands on their hips. I started out with my standard patter, telling the cameras what we were going to do before I launched into my routine. We started out slow to warm up, but the routine got progressively faster and more strenuous. We always did the hard work out first, while we were fresh, with each routine after becoming progressively easier so we could shoot all the routines for the month in one day. We had a new video available each month for any workout level.
We were well-rehearsed and moved together like dancers, perfectly in sync with each other, as we bounced, kicking our knees high as I counted and encouraged the audience to keep up.
Our routines weren’t complicated, but the more strenuous routines were enough for us to work up a good sweat. Even though we were working hard, our smiles never wavered, we never eased up, and we looked like we were having a grand time.
As we worked the routine, Chip was talking to the cameras, slowly moving them around to keep the shots fresh. One camera was always wide, taking in the entire group, one was on me, and the third was tight on another member. Once the routine was over, they would slice and dice the three cameras into one fast paced, dynamic, workout routine. Because the music was being fed directly into the sound board, as was my mic, the crew could talk to each other without it being heard on the video. The music we were listening to helped guide us so we could stay in step with what was being laid down on the video.
Finally, after about twenty minutes of hard work, I began to slow down, using the last two minutes as a cool down. I finished up with another couple minutes of encouraging prattle before smiling at the camera.
“And…we’re out!” the director called.
Laura and Kim began handing out towels as we left the floor. I blew out a long breath. I might have pretended like I wasn’t working at the routine, but I was. I wiped at my face and neck as Tanya approached.
“I’m tired from just watching,” she said with a teasing grin.
“Want to join us for the next routine?”
“No. I think I’d rather watch.” She leaned in a little closer. “I have to tell you, I might join your site just to watch your videos. You guys are hot!”
I felt a little tingle of pleasure at the compliment. “That’s all part of it. Get some eye candy up there for the men and women so they’ll watch. As they’re doing the routines, they can imagine they are the ones they see. You sure you don’t want to join us? It’ll be fun to have a new face in the video.”
She grinned. “Maybe some other time. I didn’t bring anything to wear.”
“We have extra.” When she smirked at me, I grinned. “Okay, you’re right. Maybe next time.” The women working with me were at least five inches taller than her.
We took a half-hour break, nibbling at the fruit that had been set out and drinking water. We each took our turn behind the changing screen to change into a fresh uniform. Betty fussed with our hair, then we started all over. We each wore a new color, and the bac
kground was now a beach.
As we worked, I saw Tanya talking to the two production assistants, the three women glancing our way as they smiled and talked. I wasn’t nervous because I knew I hadn’t done any of things I’d been accused of, at least not knowingly, but I still had to force myself to concentrate. I had more leeway for mistakes, but if I totally screwed it up, we’d have to stop, reset, and start again because it threw everyone out of sync and was jarring when seen on the video.
Another break, a change of clothes, a bit of fruit for energy, and we were at it again, the background now a deep forest with rain pattering against the projected window.
One more cycle, the easiest routine of them all, which consisted more of stretching and easy stepping than anything else in front of gently rolling, grass covered, hills. As we were working, Katy came in and spoke to each person in turn, before Tanya quickly followed her out. I wondered what was up, but I would have to wait until I was finished to satisfy my curiosity.
“And remember, a little fitness every day will always pay!” I said, forcing my tone and cadence to be upbeat and enthusiastic as I wrapped up the last routine.
“And…we’re out!” Chip called just as Tanya returned to the production area. “That’s a wrap everyone.”
“Thanks, guys,” I said, shaking hands with my backup. “Whew!” I said as I took my towel.
After almost four hours, even a light workout like I’d just completed was enough to get me breathing hard and sweating.
“What was that all about?” I asked as I approached Tanya. I knew she’d know what I was talking about.
“Some asshole backed a truck over my car.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I wish I were. Want to see?”
I followed her out. Her car was heavily bent on the rear passenger side, the rear wheel canted at an odd angle. It obvious the car wasn’t going anywhere under its own power with the wheel looking like that.
“What happened?”
She huffed out a breath. “They were making a delivery over there,” she said, nodding at another building that shared the parking lot. “He was backing out and turning around, when…” she waved her hand at the car. “The guy came in and told Katy what had happened, and admitted it was his fault. His insurance is going to pay for it, but that doesn’t do me any good right now. The tow truck is on its way. Dammit.”
“How the hell…?” I began, trying to figure out how the guy had gotten so wacked up that he hit her car.
“I don’t know. He’d already pulled off the car before he came inside. Bent the shit out of the bumper thing on the back of the truck. He must have been going pretty fast, or he didn’t know he’d hit it. Either way, he fu… messed it up good.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry about this.”
“Not your fault. I’ll get a rental tomorrow until my car’s fixed.”
“After they pick up your car, I’ll give you a ride home.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
I changed back into my street clothes, and by the time I was presentable, the rollback was there. They had to drag the car up onto the truck because the damaged wheel wouldn’t turn, and I grimaced at the screeching groan the car was making as the powerful winch on the truck muscled the car onto the bed.
“Van York Honda, on Cary,” Tanya said, and the driver nodded as he lashed the car down. “They’re expecting you. They said drop it in any empty spot in the parking lot as near the body shop as you can find.”
“You got it.”
After a moment more, the driver took her keys, she signed some paperwork, and we watched as the truck grumbled and snarled away.
“What a pain in the ass.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I imagine so. How about I buy you dinner, you can tell me the news, and I’ll drop you off at home? You get the car rental set up, and I’ll come by, pick you up, and take you to get it.”
“You don’t have to do all that.”
“It might not be my fault the guy ran over your car, but if I hadn’t insisted you take the case, you wouldn’t have been here for him to run over it. I figure it’s the least I can do.”
She watched my eyes a moment. “Okay. Dinner and a ride home, at least, but I’ll pay for my own dinner. I can catch a cab tomorrow.”
“We’ll talk about it over dinner. Home, first, though, I need a shower. Is that okay?”
“Sure.”
“So, tell me the news,” I suggested as we drove to my apartment.
“I did some more digging last night and again this morning on April Rumson. I found an old article on a website from about five years ago where she won a lawsuit against a special effects company. I called them and posed as an investigative filmmaker doing a documentary on how the law treats celebrities and athletes differently than they treat the average person. A double standard if you will. I name dropped April, and boy, did that get the guy going. He wouldn’t give me any details, of course, but he swore that ‘someone’ nearly bankrupted his company for no reason other than spite. He said he had the contracts that proved this person had delivered exactly what was promised, when promised, but this ‘someone’ wouldn’t pay for the rush service agreed to in the contract to meet the deadline. The guy said they reshot a couple of scenes, so they had to rework the special effects. This ‘someone’ had insisted that his company was simply padding their bill and had refused to pay the extra fees, claiming the special effects work was part of the original agreement.”
I grinned at her making quote marks in the air every time she said ‘someone.’ “And you think this someone was April?”
“I know it was. At least, it was her company. His story matches so closely with what was reported it couldn’t have been anyone else. When he sued, he submitted the contracts and change orders as proof of his claim. According to the report, April’s company then went after him for breach of contract because in the documents he submitted to the court, there were details about the upcoming Emily Bellona film. She claimed that violated his non-disclosure agreement, and in the end, the guy ended up having to pay her 4.1 million dollars.”
“Wow! All over not wanting to pay overtime?”
“That’s what the guy claims. Worse, his reputation took a real hit because he thinks she was spreading it around he couldn’t be trusted to not leak details of the movies he was working on.”
“That certainly has a familiar ring to it, doesn’t it?” I asked.
“Yes, it does. It doesn’t prove anything, and the method is different. She went after this guy in plain sight using lawyers, not back-stabbing with rumors and innuendo, but it certainly shows she has a mean streak if someone crosses her.”
I snorted. “What would she sue me for? Not working with her or taking her to bed?”
“Age discrimination?” Tanya suggested with a teasing grin.
I snickered as I stopped and waited for the gate to the garage to open. “Yeah, maybe that would be it. Do you think it could be her?”
“Could be? Yes. Is? I’m not so sure about that. I need to do some more digging. I need something solid, something more than conjecture and suppositions.”
“See? I knew you were the best. If there was something to find, you’d find it.”
“I haven’t found anything yet. This is all me simply looking at information and making some guesses.”
“Yeah, but they sound like good guesses to me.”
“Maybe, but guessing doesn’t do you any good,” she reminded me as we stepped into the elevator. “If you’re going to get a restraining order, or if you’re going to sue her for damages, you need proof.”
“If it’s out there, I’m sure you’ll find it,” I said confidently as we stepped off on my floor.
“Maybe. The problem is the internet is anonymous. There isn’t going to be anything there to tie to her. Not until I can find something to get a court order to have the websites turn over the IP addresses attached to the messages.” She paused as she stepp
ed into my apartment. “Damn! This is a nice place, and what a view!”
“Thanks. I like it. Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Okay, I’ll be a minute.”
As I showered, I thought about offering to fix dinner for her here. She might like a homecooked meal. Then, maybe after dinner, we could sit and watch the city lights come on. Even better, maybe we could watch them come on from my bed. I smiled at the thought, but decided I didn’t want to go there. At least not tonight and not with this case hanging over my head. I was pretty sure she believed me innocent now, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Maybe after this sexual harassment thing was over, we could revisit the idea.
I finished showering and quickly dressed. Since she was dressed so nicely in her suit, I put on a sports coat and dress pants.
“Wow! You clean up nice!” she teased when I stepped out of my bedroom.
“I was tired of looking like a ragamuffin standing next to you.”
She twittered out a laugh. “I hardly think anyone noticed.”
“Maybe not, but it was only because they were staring at you.”
“Oh, you’re a smoothie, alright.”
“Ready?”
“Where are we going?”
“I’m starving. How do you feel about steak and a potato?”
“You’ll eat a potato? I thought potatoes were fattening.”
“They are calorie dense, but I need them after shooting the videos.” I paused and grinned at her. “Besides, I love them. I can only resist them for so long.”
“Steak it is, then.”
We didn’t talk about the case on our way to my favorite steak house. It was of the style with hardwood everything, horseshoes, whips, western images burned into plaques, and old photographs of cattle drives decorating its walls. We arrived at the thick of dinner hour and had to wait, but I could think of worse ways to pass the time than to sit and talk with Tanya.
“Gibson, party of two!”
We rose and were escorted to our table. We looked over the menu and placed our orders.