Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Now Jonah stood near the entrance to the ballroom-turned-photo-area, watching the setup. Backdrops. Lighting. A line already forming of eager fans clutching their phones.
Tzipi stood off to the side, collecting herself. Slipping back into Kara Koff like a mask she couldn't quite take off yet.
She caught his eye. Nodded once. Ready as I'll ever be.
He nodded back. I've got you.
Then Hannon Kershaw stumbled into view.
The actor was listing heavily to starboard. His Radian Prime costume looked cheaper up close – shiny polyester, a cape that dragged on the floor. He'd clearly been drinking since the last time they saw him, despite Jay’s warning.
"There she is!" Hannon pushed off the wall – although it looked like the wall was doing most of the work, propping him upright. He went in for the cheek kiss again. Tzipi stepped back.
“C’mon! Pour a little sugar on me, KK. Look at all the fans and their cameras. This is for charity, remember?"
"My ass," Rebecca snorted next to Jonah. "No doubt Reggie added a hefty surcharge that he pocketed. I can't believe he blew half his budget on securing this guy. And all his props. Jay never would've approved, if he'd known."
The crew had finished setting up a backdrop the Reggie had ordered. It had the "Hanukkah Heroes" slogan that Hannon had been bragging about all night, except...
"Wait, is that –" Jonah squinted. “There are like a dozen different spellings of Hanukkah. And he didn't use any of them. They can't use that!”
Rob Levin strode in like he was the lead in a school play. “Here, I have a banner, it's got some stars on it." He opened his big pharmaceutical salesman bag and pulled out a retractable banner. "Let's co-brand!"
"Excuse me! Hey!" Rebecca went full-on New Yorker, waving her hands and strutting as fast as her tight gown would allow toward the security detail. "No step-and-repeats allowed that display logos. Every sponsor Katz Event Concepts approves is carefully vetted. We have no clue what... ChaiCycle is."
"You're looking at the new face of it!" Rob turned, testing out the phrase with his hands as if it would be displayed on a billboard in Times Square. "Kara Koff for ChaiCycle?."
What. The actual fuck?
Levin gestured toward Tzipi with showman flair. "She's our latest endorser to sign on."
And Tzipi died a little more inside.
Endorser? The new face?
"I knew you'd come around, sis," Rob said, his Bobby Bloom smile bright and earnest.
All those autographs. Blindly signing Kara's name for fan after fan, so hurt and angry at Jonah, and at herself. For assuming. For slotting him right into a role. For falling...
She could see it in her mind’s eye, the pile of papers falling. Robby there to help her pick them up so she could keep autographing. She hadn't paid attention to what she was signing or who she was signing for. Mahjong score cards, cocktail napkins... and dotted fucking lines, apparently.
That asshole tricked her. And was currently shaking hands with fans like he was the Mayor of the Matzo Baller.
Rebecca planted herself between Rob and the backdrop setup. "No soliciting or advertising products on this ship. Verboten!"
"Fine." Rob didn't miss a beat. He held up his hands in mock surrender, that Bobby Bloom charm dialed to eleven. "I'm a good sport. Reggie said the samples were okay to hand out, but hey, I respect the rules."
He turned to Tzipi, his smile widening. "We'll just wait till the boat docks. Do the pop-up right there in the terminal. The press gauntlet will go wild for it, Kara—they've been out in the cold all night. And ChaiCycle’s the perfect pick-me-up for all the folks on board at two o’clock who need a little boost. Photos, samples, the works. Sound good?"
Jonah stepped forward. “Ms. Koff’s schedule is pretty tight after we dock. Not sure she’ll have time for —”
“Her bodyguard doesn’t set her schedule.” Rob’s smile didn’t waver. “Do ya, bub?”
Jonah didn’t stand down. He gazed over Robby’s head at her. “Just making sure she knows all her options.”
“She’s already made her choice.” Rob tapped his back. “Got it in writing.”
Tzipi felt the walls closing in.
Countless more minutes of smiling for fans while knowing that the second she stepped off this boat, Rob would be waiting with his banner and his samples and his cameras, ready to cement "Kara Koff for ChaiCycle" into the public record?
She didn’t think she could handle it.
"Being sued for breach of contract by a fellow actor..." Rob’s tone turned concerned, like he was doing her a favor by pointing this out. "Not good optics."
Her eyes found Jonah again.
He was already moving, touching his earpiece, his expression grim. He'd heard. He understood.
Get me out of that, she thought desperately. Please.
Hannon swayed over, cologne arriving three seconds before he did. "ChaiCycle? What's that? Can I be in on it, too?"
He swiped a pack out of Rob’s hand.
"Do I have to drink it?" Hannon squinted at a sample packet. "You know I don't trust hot beverages, KK. Especially something with spices? Yuck. Like drinking a Yankee Candle."
Robby laughed. "No, it's chai tea in pill form. Call me. We’ll talk.” He thrust a business card at him.
But Hannon was already stumbling, cape catching on a lighting stand. He was on his way to being too drunk to do the meet and greet—possibly too drunk to stand upright.
But not drunk enough to miss what Tzipi was still wearing – Kara’s dress.
"You gotta wear the catsuit, Vanta. Your ass is such a money-maker in it."
"Nope," she said lightly, trying to brush past him. "Not gonna happen. Not until the real press junket."
Hannon moved to block her path. She tried to sidestep, but he made some kind of grope-push against her and leered.
"I've got your press junket right here."
Jonah moved without thinking.
"Touch her again and I'll kick your ass."
Hannon turned, swaying slightly. His eyes were bloodshot, pupils blown. "Seriously, mall cop? Who do you think you are?"
"I'm her bodyguard, numb-nuts."
Holy shit.
Committed to the bit now.
Jonah stepped up, toe-to-toe with the guy who played Radian Prime. Funny, superheroes always looked bigger on the screen.
The guy worked his jaw and his gum a little harder. Incredibly, he seemed a bit more sober suddenly. "Tell your guard dog to stand down, KK."
"Tell yours first."
Her voice was steel. Pure Vanta Blackmore, the kind of don't-fuck-with-me energy that had made her sister famous.
At Tzipi's challenge, Hannon flicked his chin to the right. Two WWF-sized guys Jonah hadn't even noticed stepped back a few paces. His pulse hammered.
Real security.
Of course.
Hannon hopped up and down a few times, rolling his shoulders like he was about to enter the ring. "Let's do this. I came here to chew bubblegum and kick ass." He spit his wad of nasty gum on the floor. "And I'm all out of bubble gum."
Oh, he did not.
He did not just quote the late, great Roddy Piper from They Live. This asshat was not going to ruin Jonah's all-time favorite cult classic movie. Or Tzipi's night. Or her sister's career.
Jonah touched his earpiece, keeping his eyes locked on Hannon. "Asher, you copy?"
"Copy," came the immediate response.
"Need an extraction. Ballroom entrance. Now."
"On my way."
"Avi?"
"Yeah, man?"
"How fast could you set up a guest DJ set?"
Static. Then: "Three minutes. Why?"
"Because we're pulling focus. Hannon's about to be escorted off-site."
"Say less."
Hannon was still bouncing, psyching himself up for his adoring public.
"Mr. Kershaw!" Rebecca's voice cut through the tension like a knife. She appeared at his side, all business in her tight dress and heels. " We have special room ready for you. For makeup.”
"The one you call a green room?" Hannon sneered. "Lame!"
"No." Rebecca's smile turned mysterious. "This is the one we call the Gold Room. After Eli Gold?"
Hannon's bloodshot eyes went wide. "Wait. THE Eli Gold?"
“The Gold Room," Rebecca repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Very exclusive. We've been holding it for you all night."
He grabbed her arm with the intensity of a drunk person who'd just heard the most important information of their life. "Take me there. Now. I demand to be taken there."
"Asher's en route to escort you," Jonah murmured into his IFB. "Scenic route."
"Copy that," Asher's voice crackled back. "This is gonna be fun."
It was an inside joke on the Baller between the friends – the smallest cabin on the far end of the boat was "Eli's Gold Room." Asher, needing to still burn off some nervous energy anyway, was the perfect person to take Hannon there... the long way around.
Hannon stumbled toward Rebecca, who looped her arm through his with the patience of a saint. Handed him off to Asher. And shot Jonah a triumphant smile as the two men disappeared around the corner.
“Nice work.” Jonah fist-bumped Jay’s girlfriend.
“No one turns the Matzo Baller into a Disney Character Cruise on my watch,” Rebecca said.
He pushed his mic again. "Avi, you still there?"
"Setting up now. Beck's on the mix and scratch. I’ll be dropping the beats."
"They don't call me DJ Hayseed for nothing." Beck came in, loud and clear.
Thirty seconds later, the opening notes of Beastie Boys’ Sabotage started pounding through the ballroom speakers. Heads turned. The energy shifted—people gravitating toward the music, toward where Avi and Beck were suddenly the center of attention.
Tzipi glanced at the sound, then back at him. "Did you just...?"
"Coordinated distraction. Avi's pulling some of his fans away from the line with a pop-up guest DJ set. Give you a breather. And no handsy Hannon."
The line for the Hanukkah Heroes Meet & Greet thinned.
Not empty, but manageable. She’d lost some of the women in line who may have been there for Hannon, but clearly had a thing for Avi Wolfson too.
Still lots of fans who wanted to meet the actress who played Vanta…
and even some who wanted to meet their childhood idol, Rosie.
"You really are the glue guy."
"Somebody has to be."
Tzipi was staring at him, something unreadable in her expression. "And you told Hannon Kershaw you'd kick his ass."
"Holy shit," he said out loud this time. "Apparently. In my defense, he was being a creep."
"He was." Her expression softened. "And you protected me. For real this time. Not because you thought I was Kara. Not because it was your job. Just... because."
"Yeah." Jonah's heart was still racing. "Because."
She stepped closer, into his space. Close enough that he could smell her perfume—Kara's perfume, technically, but somehow it smelled different on her. Better.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"Anytime." He meant it. But his mind was already racing. They had talked about taking things one hour at a time. But the stakes had changed.
He glanced around the ballroom. “Where’d Levin go?”
He knew something had been off with that guy…harmless, my ass. And Tzipi had walked into his trap somehow, without even realizing it.
She followed his gaze, scanning the crowd. “I don’t see him.”
“He must’ve slipped out during the Hannon thing.” Jonah’s jaw tightened. “You didn’t really sign anything, did you?”
Her face gave him the answer before she spoke.
“I honestly don’t know what I did. I was so…” She pressed fingers to her temple. “I was upset. After I left you. I was signing things, he was there…helping…”
Fuck.
“He said in the terminal, at two o’clock,” she added quietly. “In front of the press.”
“One hour at a time. Remember?”
She held his gaze for another beat, then squared her shoulders. Nodded. And turned back to the fans, slipping into Kara Koff once more. Smiling, posing, signing autographs.
And Jonah stayed six paces back, watching.
Making sure the most interesting woman on this boat made it through the night in one piece. He touched his earpiece again. His eyes on Tzipi. "Jay, you there? Favor."
And planning how to get her off it before Rob Levin could ruin everything.
“Okay, everyone.”
Jay’s voice was again in his ear as the hour wound down, rounding up the troops.
“Let’s make sure we are all present and accounted for at the eleven o’clock charity drag show. You’ll see a table for ten reserved up front. It will be easy to wrangle Talia onto the deck right after Matzo Belle takes her final bow.”
Jonah had forgotten all about his pal who was part of this year’s charity entertainment. He had bonded with Matzo Belle’s alter-ego back when they were both interns in college. Now she was a sought-after act that Jay had finally landed after years of begging…with a little nudge.
“What if Tal doesn’t – ” Asher spoke up, but his words quickly dwindled. Jonah didn’t think he had ever heard the guy sound so unsure. “What if she suspects something’s up?”
Jay chuckled. “Let’s just say…Eli has a little long-distance surprise planned for all of us. Trust.”
Trust the signs from above.