UnWholly (Unwind Dystology #2)(115)

“So your relationship with Camus . . .”

“Is nothing but a publicity stunt,” says Risa. “A publicity stunt carefully planned by Proactive Citizenry to help Cam be accepted and adored.”

Roberta bursts into the control booth, where an engineer works the editing bay, and the show’s producer leans back in his chair, extremely pleased. “This is mint,” he tells his engineer. “The princess of unwinding bites the disembodied hand that feeds her! It doesn’t get any better than this!”

“Stop the interview!” orders Roberta. “Stop it now, or I will hold you and your network liable for everything she says!”

The producer is unfazed. “Excuse me, who are you?”

“I’m . . . her manager, and she is not authorized to say what she’s saying.”

“Well, lady, if you don’t like what your client has to say, that’s not our problem.”

“Your viewers need to ask themselves this,” Risa says. “Who stands to benefit most from unwinding? Answer that question, and I think we’ll know who’s behind Proactive Citizenry.”

Then the security guard comes up behind Roberta and manhandles her out the door.

? ? ?

Roberta is relegated to the greenroom until the interview is over and they cut to commercial.

The guard, still on “intruder alert” mode, won’t let her pass. “I have orders to keep you out of the studio.”

“I am going to the restroom!”

She pushes past him and bolts for the studio door. Both Risa and Cam are gone, and the next guests are being miked.

Avoiding the guard—who Roberta knows is fully prepared to tranq her—she turns down a side hallway to the dressing rooms. Risa’s dressing room is empty, but Cam is in his. His coat and tie are strewn on the ground like he couldn’t wait to peel out of them. He sits before the vanity with his head in his hands.

“Did you hear what she said about me? Did you hear?”

“Where is she?”

“Head in the sand! Turtle in its shell! Leave me alone!”

“Focus, Cam! She was on the stage with you. Where did she go?”

“She ran. She said it was over, that she was history, and she ran down the emergency stairs.”

“She will be history when I’m through with her.”

Roberta takes the emergency stairs down. They’re on the second floor, and the only place for Risa to go is out into the parking lot, which is mostly empty at this time of night. She can’t have had more than a fifteen-second lead, but she’s nowhere to be seen. The only person around is their driver, who leans against his limo, eating a sandwich.

“Did you see her?” Roberta asks.

“See who?” he answers.

And Roberta’s phone starts ringing like it will never stop.





75 ? Cam

Roberta returns from her unsuccessful search for Risa. Cam meets her in the greenroom, where two security guards now wait, eager to escort Roberta out. She’s on the phone, already in the throes of damage control.

“Antarctica,” Cam says. “I should have said something out there, but I froze.”

“What’s done is done,” she says, then growls at a dropped call. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I’ll meet you at the car,” Cam tells her. “My stuff’s still in the dressing room.”

The guards solemnly escort Roberta out of the building, and Cam goes back to the dressing room. He puts on his sports coat and carefully rolls up his tie, putting it in his pocket. Then, when he’s sure Roberta has left the building, he says, “It’s okay, she’s gone.”

The closet door opens, and Risa steps out. “Thank you, Cam.”

Cam shrugs. “She deserved it.” He turns to look at her. She’s breathing rapidly, as if she’s been running, but he knows she’s only been running in her head. “Will they all be unwound? Your AWOL friends?”

“Not right away,” she tells him. “But yes, they will be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Although she doesn’t look at him when she says it, like maybe she thinks it somehow is. Like his very existence makes him guilty.

“I can’t help what I am,” he tells her.

“I know . . . but today you showed me you can help what you do.” And then she leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. He feels it like an electric shock in all the seams of his face. She turns to go, but he can’t let her. Not yet. Not without saying— “I love you, Risa.”

She glances back at him and offers nothing more than an apologetic smile. “Good-bye, Cam.”

And she’s gone.

It’s only after she leaves that the anger begins to rise in him. Not just a spike, but an eruption, and there’s nowhere for it to go. He takes the chair and hurls it against the vanity mirror, smashing it. He hurls everything that’s breakable against the walls and doesn’t stop until the security guards burst in on him. It takes three guards to restrain him, but still he’s stronger. He has the best of the best in him—every muscle group, every synaptic reflex. He tears free from the guards, bolts down the emergency exit stairs, and meets Roberta in the limo.