The waitress returned with a pot of coffee and filled their cups as Michael began ticking down a list of minor contractual changes. “The main concern,” Michael said, “is travel. The contract was written in a way that could send Kat on the road to promote Stepping Up. She’s not doing it without added compensation, and a separate contract, period. The end.”
Kat poured two creamers in her cup. “It’s not about money. I just don’t want to think I’m here to stay, and suddenly I’m contractually obligated to hit the road again.” She reached for the sweetener.
Jason handed her three packets, the exact three she always used, and her gaze went to his face, only to realize he wasn’t even looking at her.
“I’ve discussed this with Kat,” Jason assured Michael. “I can’t do anything about the travel for this season. After that, we can negotiate it out.”
“That’s not the issue,” Michael said. “The contract is written in vague language that could make her a slave to the studio beyond the Vegas production. I marked it out and added our wording to an amendment.” He flipped the paper around for Jason to read.
He read the marked-out text and then the new version. “Good catch,” Jason said. “I’d never have signed it as it was myself.” He glanced at Kat. “I see why you keep him around.”
“He’s convenient,” she teased, glancing at Michael.
“I look out for your money,” he said. “Which you sometimes forget to make as important as it is.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to believe I get paid this well for something I love to do.”
“Point made,” Michael said. “You need me.”
Kat’s eyes met Jason’s, the memory of him saying “I need you” settling between them.
Nearly an hour later, Michael stuffed his paperwork back into his briefcase, leaving Jason his copies. “I have to get out of here. I have a meeting with the Ricco family attorney.”
“Ricco?” Kat asked, sliding out of her seat. “As in the famous designer?”
“That’s right,” Michael said, standing up. “They’re buying up properties and negotiating with some of my talent.” He turned and glanced between them. “It’s good to see you two together again.” He walked away.
Kat stood there staring at Jason, not sure what to do.
“Sit down, Kat,” he said. “I can’t bite you here. Not in public. No matter how much I might want to. I have something I want you to know.”
Kat shook her head. “I really need to go.”
He considered her, then stood up, tossing money onto the table. “You’re in the garage?”
“Yes.”
“Me, too,” he said. “So I’ll walk with you. I’m ready to get home myself.”
“Home? Aren’t you staying in the hotel like the rest of the cast?”
“Nope,” he said. “As soon as I signed on for the show, I bought a house a few miles from yours.”
“But…you’re always traveling.”
“My contract with the show is up this season,” he said. “I’ve already told them I’m not renewing.”
“Jason, there you are,” a female voice called out, drawing their attention.
Heather Wright, the twenty-something, red-headed bombshell of a script manager Kat had met earlier, stopped beside them. Her hand went to Jason’s arm, sliding down it as if she enjoyed the opportunity to touch him, and she quickly said, “Hi, Kat,” before turning her full attention and the deep V of her red top in his direction.
Kat cut her gaze to the floor, feeling the familiar punch in her gut that she’d come to associate with Jason. It wasn’t jealousy. She knew he didn’t want this woman. She knew he’d never cheated on her. It was more about the separateness of their lives that became more apparent in every passing second.
She inhaled, calming her nerves, and her gaze lifted to find Jason staring at her as Heather continued talking.
“You promised we could review the script changes with you before morning. I know there aren’t a lot of lines, but I was handed new contractual requirements for the number of lines per person for several of the Stepping Up stars that don’t fit anything I have set up.”
“I need to head out anyway,” she said and started walking toward the exit of the restaurant and quickly cutting through the crowd to head to the garage.
* * *
JASON DEALT WITH Heather and went after Kat, only to watch her disappear into the elevator a second before he could get to her. He took the stairs, determined to catch her and hit the bottom level at the same moment she exited the sliding doors to the garage.
“Kat,” he called, falling into step with her, thankful the garage had plenty of cars, but no people. “Why’d you take off like that?”
“You had work to do and I’ve changed time zones so many times that I need sleep desperately.”
She didn’t look at him and he followed her down an incline to the same rental car he’d seen at her house. She clicked the locks and opened the door to toss her bag inside before she turned to face him, leaning against the back door.