Kerry sniffed. "Ah...hah." She entered the bedroom and shut the door behind her, ears straining as she heard Dar's low rumble start up. "Stupid idiotic son of..." she paused at her reflection in the mirror. Then she sighed. "Dar, you could have told me this damn thing was semi transparent when wet."
At least it had been comfortingly dark outside. Kerry quickly removed the unexpectedly risqué suit and replaced it with a pair of worn denim short overalls, tucking a sedate white t-shirt into them before she buckled one strap over her shoulder.
Impatiently, she flicked her fingers through her hair, and then she turned and marched back into the living room.
"LOOK, I KNOW you're pissed off and maybe you have a right to be." Pat was saying.
"Maybe?" Dar paused in mid motion. She was in the kitchen pouring a glass of milk.
"This isn't what it looks like." The reporter came over and faced her over the counter. "Look, Ms. Roberts, I thought we had an understanding."
Dar gave herself a moment's thought while she drank down her milk. She finally put her glass down just as her partner emerged and braced her arms on the counter. "My understanding is that I am a public officer of a public company, and I perform my public duties during working hours."
"Well, sure..."
"This is not a working hour." Dar cut her off. "I'm not sure why you don't understand that. I am off the clock, out of the office, on vacation, not answering my email. What other--" She slammed her hands down on the counter, with a smack, "way do I have to phrase that so it makes sense to you?"
"But this is not just a working hour's story!" The reporter shot back. "This is about people. It's about people who are in this situation, trying to make something happen. You think everyone else is just taking the weekend off?"
"I don't care." Dar replied evenly. "It's not my problem what anyone else does." She pointed at the reporter. "Why is it a problem to anyone else what I do?"
"Okay, look." The reporter eyed Kerry warily as the shorter woman strode past her into the kitchen, taking the milk jug from Dar's side and drinking directly from the opening. "It's my job to tell the story in this special. Now, I don't mind telling stories, and I don't mind making them up when they're not interesting enough for me." Her attitude was more direct now. "But I also don't like being fed a tale, and you know, I think I'm being fed a tale."
"Okay." Kerry put the milk jug down. "But that doesn't explain why you're here."
Pat looked at her. "Honey, it's you two who are feeding me the tale."
Dar looked at Kerry, Kerry looked back at Dar. They both looked across the counter at the reporter. "What?" Dar's brow creased. "I haven't told you anything." She glanced at Kerry. "Have you?"
"Um...no, I've only cursed at her so far." Kerry shook her head. "What are you talking about?" She asked the black woman.
"Oh, don't play that game with me." Cruicshank said. "You are two smart cookies, and it's way too late to pretend you don't know what's going on." She put her hands on her hips. "So let's drop the act, okay?"
Dar picked up her glass, poured more milk into it, and then wandered out of the kitchen shaking her head. She walked right past the reporter and went over to the couch, dropping into it and extending her legs out across its surface. "What do you think, Ker?"
"What do I think?" Kerry put the milk back into the refrigerator. "I think she got stung by a bunch of jelly fish. Want me to call 911? Hallucinations will be next." She leaned on the counter. "Lady, you're nuts.?"
"I'm nuts?" The reporter's eyes widened.
"We have no idea what the hell you're talking about." Kerry told her in a confidential tone.
Cruicshank looked from one to the other. She pointed at Dar. "You told me from your perspective this whole bid was just business. Right?"
"Right." Dar acknowledged.
"So, then tell me, Ms. Roberts, how professional it is that your father's been working at Telegenic's ship, causing trouble?"
Uh oh. Dar outwardly refused to react, not even to let her eyes flicker over to where Kerry was standing. "My father?" She mused. "My father's a retired naval officer who takes odd jobs on the waterfront to keep busy,? she said. "I find it hard to believe he was causing trouble."
Kerry had to strain not to smile, despite the shock of the words.
"And he just so happened to take one there?" The reporter asked sarcastically. "Just like your..." She turned and looked at Kerry, "assistant just happened to attack your competition at a restaurant?" A snort. "Give me a break," she said. "This is all about personal issues, and you've got as many as anyone else does."
"Actually." Kerry chose her words carefully. "Your friends at Telegenics were trying to get me to come out with them so they could attack my partner here." She circled the counter. "I got called out of town on business." Her smile was icy. "And my assistant was being courteous in letting them know I wasn't going to make it."
"With a chili bowl? I think an email would have been enough." Cruicshank shot back.
Kerry half shrugged. "Your friends were...very professional, sitting in a hamburger shack dissing us at the top of their voices. My assistant took exception to that. I don't blame her."
"Honey, that ain't how I heard it."
"My assistant is eighteen years old, and she was with her mother." Kerry sat down on one of the counter stools. "I believe what they told me." She shrugged slightly. "But for that matter, if Dar and I did react in any way, it was because they were pushing us to the wall."
The reporter looked around the cabin. "I just don't believe that. You know what I think? I think they're right. All those people are up there working their butts off to make this happen, and you two are here in your...love shack."
She turned and walked to the door. "Call the cops. See if I care." Her voice was now cutting. "But let me tell you, ladies, I know exactly how I'm going to play this story, and for you...it's not going to be pretty."
Cruicshank turned and left, slamming the door behind her.
There was a brief silence in the cabin, as the two partners regarded each other. Finally, Dar shifted her position, rolling onto her side and propping her head up on her hand. "Love shack." She mused. "I like it."
Kerry rubbed her eyes. "Dar, this is not funny."
"No." Dar agreed. "But what in the hell are you going to do, Ker? Dad was doing exactly what she claimed, and we're here." One shoulder shrugged. "And the battling burritos did what they did. It's all in the spin, and she's got the turntable."
"Nice." The blond woman trudged over and sat down on the couch next to Dar. She let her hands fall slackly between her knees and extended her bare feet across the carpet. "So, now what?"
Now what. Good question. Dar really had no idea now what. "I just don't get what the big deal is about us being up here. It's not like you and I are running the cables." She temporized. 'What's that all about?"
Kerry pondered. "They're control freaks, so they think everyone else should be too?" She thought a moment more. "And, well, you know hon...I can remember projects where you were a little like that too."
She peeked at Dar to gauge a reaction, but got a mildly bemused expression in return.
"I know." Her partner nodded agreeably. "But I got over it. You helped me, matter of fact. I sniffed around one of yours one time too many, and you told me what I was going to die of."
Kerry's head dropped forward a little. "I did no such thing."
Dar's lips quirked. "Well, not in those words, no." She admitted. "But you did."
"I did?" Kerry thought back, trying to recall the momentous occasion. Had she really told Dar to back off? Then the memory surfaced, and she exhaled, picturing a scene in Dar's office with her pushing a set of colored project folders across her boss's desk. One of us really needs to own these, Dar.