“Friends of whom?” she asked grimly. She turned away from him as the young man from Sigma Chi stopped about four feet away. “Hello,” she greeted, showing her teeth with a brief smile.
“Hello, Ms. Lanigan.” He looked over his shoulder, apparently seeking encourŹagement from his friends. She glanced past him and watched several of the students nod briskly and offer nudging gestures. She tracked to his eyes as he turned back to her, and she waited patiently for the request she could sense coming. “I…well, my friends and I would like to say thank you for coming. Many of us are avid fans of your show.”
He offered a sheepish grin; she took a deep breath and refreshed her smile. Kevin remained at her back, and with that acute awareness she had developed on stage, she realized he was focused on her young admirer even more than she was. She reached out and put a hand on the young man’s arm. “What’s your name?”
“Me? I…” He stumbled over his own tongue, and Brenna would have laughed if she were not so upset. “Mike…I mean, Michael Turncot.” He let out a nervous laugh as she took his hand and shook it. “I’m with the Greek Council.”
She nodded. “I can see that, Mike.” Time to put on a good show, Brenna. “You did a lot of work here. Why don’t you introduce me?” she offered, loud enough to draw the attention of the other young adults. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” A young woman dusted her hands on her Delta Delta Delta shirt tail, before offering it. “With all the work you do, this must seem like such a small project.”
“Small projects make the biggest differences, I’ve found,” Brenna said sincerely.
Kevin remained close by, but her irritation ebbed as she focused on the volunŹteers. They relaxed around her when it was clear she admired them in return. She walked through the facility with them, talking about the work itself, the setbacks,
and the time thcy thought they had lost their grant. She comminerated about the time an entire corner of the infant structure had collapsed under an unexpected snowfall the previous November.
“Thank goodness no one was hurt,” she exclaimed. “Really, what you’ve accomŹplished is remarkable.”
“Your husband had a lot to do with our success. He donated the supplies and kept up with the permits,” someone said. “Kept telling us the project was important enough to keep going.”
“He’s right. So, tell me more about the programs you’re going to run here.”
The students answered all at once, and Brenna heard a cacophony of responses. “After-school studying and activities for school age children. Athletic clubs. BasketŹball, soccer in the field out back, and a day camp program in the summers.”
“How are admissions handled?” she asked.
“Parents are referred by the local public aid office. We’ve already got forty-five children in the borrowed office space near the sports center at the college.”
Someone offered her a drink, and Brenna took it with a nod of appreciation. Sipping briefly, she identified it as clear soda. “I’m really impressed. I’ll keep an eye on your progress. If you’ll excuse me, though, I should find my husband.” She brushed a hand through the fall of her hair against her shoulders and stepped backŹward.
Mike, who had brought her into the small group, led her out, and up to Kevin, who was chatting with a slim man in pinstripe pants and a double-breasted, blue-black vest smoothed over a crisp, white cotton shirt. The gentleman nodded past Kevin, acknowledging Brenna’s arrival.
Kevin turned and smiled, holding out a hand. She put hers into it and allowed herself to be drawn forward and introduced. “This is my wife, Brenna Lanigan. Bren, this is Senator Josiah Birmingham, chairman of Michigan’s Democratic Party.”
“Senator Birmingham.” She held out her hand, and the senator bent over it and squeezed lightly. “A pleasure.”
“My pleasure,” he said. “And who’s this?”
She introduced her young escort with a genuine smile. “Mike Turncot, Tillek Greek Council president.”
“Senator.” Mike turned to Kevin, who smiled. “Mr. Shea, the council would like to invite you to speak at our Pan-Political Rally on the twenty-fourth. Would you consider it?”
Kevin smiled. Brenna could tell he was quite pleased with the invitation, though he sounded terribly formal when he shook Mike’s hand and said, “I’d be delighted, young man.”
Brenna felt a chill go through her as Kevin leaned forward, shaking Mike’s hand again. “Very delighted.”
“That’s was some fun, right?”
Brenna sighed. “No, I was very uncomfortable.”
“You seemed to be having a good time with the students. The senator thought you were perfect.”
“Perfect? Was I being sized up for something? Kevin, this was supposed to be just a social outing, with a bit of charity benefit.” She could feel her face growing hot with anger.
“It was.”
AS the car Idled at a slop light, she looked at him. He looked straight ahead. She noticed his fingertips tapping on the steering wheel. “But that wasn’t all. What is it?”
“The party money is being spread around. They’ve been talking to me.”
With foreboding she asked, “About what?” Kevin didn’t answer. “What did they want you to do with your celebrity wife?”
“It wasn’t like that. They want me.”
“But I’m a particularly sweet bonus? For what?”
Kevin turned into the driveway and shut off the engine. “I don’t know yet.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “I don’t!” She pushed her way out of the car, entering the house quickly. Kevin followed in her wake. “Bren,” he started.
She turned around a few steps away from James and Ellie rising from a checkŹerboard. “Good night, Kevin.”
The children left their game. Brenna stepped into the hall bathroom, staring her own anger down in the mirror. Kevin was out of sight when she emerged again, and she heard the telltale noises that said he was in the bedroom. She settled on the couch, grabbing a magazine from the coffee table while waiting for him to return to the living room. When he did come out, it was to offer her a brief kiss and remind her to turn out the light when she came to bed.
“Kevin.” Her voice stopped him in the corridor.
“Yes?”
She looked up at him as he paused in the doorway. “Please don’t do that again.”
“Darling, I didn’t…”
“You did.” She kept her voice even. “You have me, not a fictional character.”
“Someone was bound to mention it. Consider it diffusing the tension.”
“Whatever you might have thought, it made me tense, Kevin. I’m not going to be Susan Jakes forever. We’ve talked about this. I thought you understood.”
He leaned against the wall, bracing his frame against that of the hallway. “Derek thought it would be a good idea.”
Now it comes out, she thought with a sigh. “And you went along with it to get that invitation to the Pan-Political Rally?”
“That segment is important.”
“I won’t go with you to the rally,” she said quietly.
“Your father is coming.”
“He’ll be all the support you need. You’ll be fine.”
“Are we?”
She fingered the magazine in her lap. “Yes,” she said, not looking up at him.
He stepped close, put his big hand on her shoulder, and bent to kiss her cheek. She accepted it and pressed into it briefly before he pulled away. “Coming to bed?”
She rubbed her hand over his before it left her shoulder. “You go. I’ll be in later.”
Chapter 6
Greeted by Peter, the north entrance guard, Cassidy Hyland drove through the gate and pulled to a stop in a space near the far end of the Pinnacle cast lot. The sun was already breaking through the Los Angeles smog. She should have been there almost two hours earlier. As she pressed the remote lock on her key chain, she spun round and bolted for the support trailers where her
makeup awaited.
The crunch of gravel under the tires of another vehicle turned her head as she hit the sidewalk with full-length strides. She was stunned to see Brenna Lanigan stepping out of a taxicab. She waited for the compact woman to reach the sidewalk. Jogging toward her trailer, Brenna did not look up until the last second before they collided. Cassidy grasped Brenna’s arm to steady them both, letting go when Brenna’s gaze darted to her face. “Are you all right?”
“Plane was late,” Brenna mumbled. She started past Cassidy, then stopped and turned around. “You didn’t come looking for me, did you?”
“No. I’m late, too,” Cassidy explained. “I couldn’t drag myself from bed this morning. Then Ryan didn’t feel well, so I had to take him to the sick care arrangeŹments I have.”
“I hope he gets well soon,” Brenna offered.
“Thanks.” They strode toward the studio set together, almost perfectly in step. “How was Michigan?”
“Cold.” Brenna shook her head as she pulled open the door. Cassidy grasped the side, gesturing for Brenna to enter first. “My flight was postponed because the overnight temp was twenty-eight with freezing rain.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You can’t control the weather.” Brenna shrugged. “I wanted coffee on the plane, but because of the delay, they weren’t serving.”
Cassidy watched her uneasily run her fingers through her hair, presumably fixŹing it. Though if she’d been asked, Cassidy would have said that even tired, Brenna looked good. She exhaled and felt her cheeks. They seemed too hot, probably with Ryan’s fever.
“Did I hear someone asking for coffee?”
Cassidy turned to the approaching voice. “Morning, Cam.”
Beside her, Brenna hesitated, then offered, “Cameron.”
“You two are awfully late for your calls, aren’t you?”
“I had a flight delay” Brenna responded. “And apparently Ryan is sick,” she added, to Cassidy’s surprise.
“Well, Sean’s directing this one, as you know; he’s been looking for you both for thirty minutes. The gang’s all here.”
“Thanks.” Brenna turned away.
Cass began to follow her, when Cameron touched her arm. “Yes?” There was deliberate coolness in her voice.
Cameron had the grace to look sheepish, then his expression cleared. “Would you like to try doing something tonight?”
“No. I’m going to talk to Sean about going home early so I can take care of Ryan.”
“Awful short notice.”
“I’ll talk to Sean about it,” she repeated, turning away and feeling better for having asserted her parenting above other things. The image of Ryan crying and rubŹbing his runny nose and coughing through a sore throat that morning flashed through her mind. It made it easy to ignore Cameron’s grumbling as he walked toward the executive offices.
“You’re going home?”
She had forgotten Brenna’s presence. Turning now to the other woman, she saw that Brenna had moved off a few feet but still waited. The unconsciously supportive gesture warmed her. She nodded. “Ryan is really sick.”
“I’m sure Sean can rearrange things. We can just do our scenes later in the week.”
Brenna’s lips pursed together in a tight line, but then she smiled gently, again warming Cassidy with the sense that an understanding was passing between them. Cassidy rubbed her throat as she cleared it.
Brenna stepped closer. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She held the door for Cassidy to enter the soundstage area first.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Cassidy wiped her brow.
Brenna pulled her toward the coffee pot. “Here.” Pouring two, she fixed hers with sweetener. When she held up the fixings, Cassidy said, “Cream only.”
Coffees in hand, the two settled in chairs near the set. After a fortifying sip which soothed her throat, Cassidy asked, “Did you have a good time Saturday?” When Brenna did not immediately answer, Cassidy figured she was debating whether or not to share. “It didn’t go as you had hoped?” she guessed,
“Forget it. How did baseball go?”
“Oakland lost.”
“Was Ryan upset?”
“No. He was already blue by then,” she replied. Brenna gave her a look of conŹfusion. “He was stained blue from the cotton candy. He was so amused by that, he forgot about the game.”
Brenna giggled, surprised by the mental imagery. Oh, it feels so good to laugh. “I remember when mine would do things like that.”
“Are you two ready to get down to this week’s episode?”
They both turned to see Sean Durham with a sneaker-clad foot propped on another nearby chair. He queried them both with a raised eyebrow. His green eyes crinkled over a suppressed smile as he crossed his hands over his bent knee and studied them.
“Sorry, Sean. We ran into each other running late,” Brenna said easily.
They both glanced toward the soundstage. Behind Sean, Cassidy could see the other actors walking through a blocking sequence on the medical bay set.
“I wouldn’t have even noticed you except Rachelle kept stopping her dialogue, wondering what you two could be discussing so intently.”
Cassidy took the opportunity to make her request. “I need to ask for the day off, Sean. Ryan was sick this morning.”
“Do you have temporary arrangements so that you can stay at least until first break? If we get through the read-through, I can rearrange the shoot a little. Maybe you could come back early tomorrow for most of your close-up work? Shooting those out of order won’t make much difference.” He looked away, obviously already mentally rearranging things. He even grabbed at the pen tucked behind his ear and the script in his hands, thumbing through already-tagged pages.
Left alone, though the man was still standing right in front of them, Brenna
smiled at Cassidy and patted her arm. The blonde exhaled in relief. “Told you il could happen.” Brenna looked at Sean and grinned.
“Well, come on. Let’s get you two your script copies. No filming until after lunch, so you can skip costuming.” Sean dropped his foot from the seat of the chair and stepped back, spun around, and headed back to the set.
Cassidy stood. “I’m ready.”
Brenna came up behind her and idly patted Cassidy’s shoulder. “All right, let’s get the job done so you can get out of here.”
As Brenna walked ahead, Cass felt the residual warmth on her shoulder. She watched Brenna walk confidently onto the set, take a script copy from Durham, and give Rachelle a warm hug.
“So, Ryan is sick?” Rachelle asked as Cassidy walked up. “I’m sorry. You should be home to take care of him.”
Cassidy knew that Brenna had already updated the other two on the situation. “Where are Will and Terry?” Cass asked.
“Working with the stunt team. They’ve got a full-fledged B plot this time, an explosion in the Vortex lab.”
“Inside intrigue,” Brenna mused before she realized what Rachelle’s explanation meant. “You’ve read already?” She flipped ahead through the pages.
“Some,” Chelle admitted to Brenna. “We were beginning to think something had happened to you.”
Brenna ducked her head, pleased to have been worried about but quick with assurances. “Delayed flight. I had planned to leave last night, but freezing rain grounded flights until morning.”
Joining them, Rich interjected, “You haven’t even been home, have you?”
Brenna shook her head. “I gave Thomas the keys and took a cab here.”
“God,” Chelle commiserated. “You should go home and get some sleep.”
Cassidy silently echoed that thought. She found traveling difficult. Brenna had to have been up continually since Sunday morning. When her flight was grounded, she likely stayed up waiting for the first flight out, just to be here for a six a.m. set call. Her respect for Brenna rose another notch.
Sean appeared again, mercifully offering a tray with juice and sweet rolls. “
Now do you think we can do some full read-throughs?”
“Food? God, I’m yours!” Brenna scanned her script pages as she sipped. “From the top?”
“From the top,” Sean confirmed. “And, Cass, listen close. In this one, you’re going to spend a lot of time being me.”
Cassidy’s face paled. “What?”
“Yep. It’s called Brains and Brawn. We get knocked through a vortex and end up with our bodies switched.”
“So you’re me?” Cassidy asked. “And I’m going to be you?” Chris Hanssen might not like being part of Susan Jakes’ Time Squad, but she was the antithesis of Jeremy Dewitt. The guy loved the role of card sharp, or gunslinger, or sports figure. Whatever action was to be had in a particular case, he wanted to be in the thick of it. Cassidy was uncertain she could carry off the swagger of someone so confident.
“And you get to kiss me.” Rachelle took Cassidy’s hand to hop off the exam bed.
“I what?” Cassidy just stared around at the other actors, digesting the situation.
Sean cleared his throat, drawing all attention back to him. “All right, let’s read scene 4 B.”
It was the middle of the last day of filming Brains and Brawn, the gender-bendŹing body switch episode. Most of the major work had been done over the last five days.
Though Chris and Jeremy had been sent to handle an extraction, that mission had been abandoned as soon as they discovered they’d swapped bodies. Dr. Pryor had gone after them and, despite an acciŹdent with the Vortex equipment, had been working on unswitching the pair in a rudimentary medical facility. He was soon joined by Susan, who risked herself to get important data to the doctor. While they assessed the problem, Chris and Jeremy had traveled back to the Time Squad’s headquarters to await the doctor’s remedy.
Out of consideration, Sean held the “big” scene until last, rightly figuring Rachelle and Cassidy’s ease with each other would increase over the week’s work. But right now, standing outside the set of Commander Jakes’ office, Cassidy was pacing to try and shake off her nervousness. Her palms were soaked with sweat. She had called her agent and asked about the possible angles, fallout, or benefits, of the kiss.
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