shivering with indignation.
I swallowed a bubble of laughter and nodded. "Let's just get through this, okay?"
"I will if you will," she said, and looked around at the stagehands, who were all staring at us. Probably waiting for me to drop the bathrobe. "You! Assholes! Nobody drops water on me today unless you want to cash in on that pension, you got me?"
For a little thing, she was ferocious. Nobody answered.
Marvelous Marvin strolled onto the set, toothy as a land shark, and patted his stiff hair. "How do I look, girls?"
"Clark Gable and Valentino all rolled into one," Cherise said. He beamed at her and moved into his camera position. She glared after him. "They're dead, asshole."
"Let me guess. Marvin's behind this?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah. Marvin wants to ogle your ass for a while. And besides, he's pissed at me because I wouldn't put out."
Usually, that would have been a joke, but the way she said it... "Seriously?"
She just looked at me.
"You're going to report him, right?"
"Oh, yeah, right. Like Bikini Girl is going to get any traction on a sexual-harassment issue. Plus, there's the whole issue of me having tormented the hell out of every HR person to the point where they run when they see me coming." She eyed me speculatively. "But you, on the other hand..."
"Me?"
"If he snaps your bikini, you'd report him, right?"
"No," I said flatly. "I'd kill him." Especially today. So not in the mood for this. I wanted to do this, grab my paycheck-which would be the last one, as I planned to be fleeing soon-and get the hell out.
Whatever Cherise was about to say was cut off by the command for silence on the set, and we stood in silence, waiting for our cues.
Hers came first. I watched her lumber out into public view in her thick, lumpy cloud costume. Watched Marvin deliver his lame-ass jokes at her expense. I'd never really looked at it from this side of the camera before. Damn, I had a really pathetic job.
Marvin had set up a water-drop joke. The stagehand didn't pull the bucket.
Cherise was just that scary, and besides, the stagehands were union. They didn't give a shit. When Marvin gave the signal, the stagehand up there just grinned, shrugged, and chomped gum.
Cherise gave him a behind-the-back thumbs-up.
Commercial break. The anchors sniped at each other over who had stepped on whose leads. One of them was rewriting an intro for the next piece. Badly.
Marvin speared me with a look and gave me the toothy grin of death.
"Joanne," he said. "Let's flash some skin. You're up."
I took a deep breath and slid the bathrobe off of my shoulders, then folded it neatly on a chair. The air felt ice-cold on my all-too-exposed skin. I walked over onto the tiny ocean set, which had glittering white sand, a blue-sky backdrop, and an oversized beach ball. Marvin came over to join me. Close up, his tan looked a shade of orange that earthly sun didn't produce, and the professionally even smile didn't really disguise the ruthlessness in his eyes.
"Okay, this is the standard beach setup, right? So look pretty and nod." He gave me an analytical once-over. "Turn around."
"What?"
"Turn around."
I didn't want to, but I did it, a fast circle. When I was halfway around, he reached out and stopped me.
"Your tag's showing," he said, and slipped his fingers into the back of my bikini bottom.
And snapped it.
And burst out laughing.
I spun, with perfect timing, and yanked his toupee off his head just as the camera operator finished his silent three-two-one countdown. The thing felt damp and dead-animal in my hand. I tossed it offstage, to where Cherise was standing.
She fielded it neatly, waved it like a battle flag, and grinned at me.
Marvin was not amused. The red light went on, and he was still glaring at me for a full two seconds before he pulled himself together enough to bare his teeth at the audience and start the shtick. His hair plugs looked naked and sickeningly experimental under the harsh lights, and some of them were standing up stiff as cornstalks from where I'd pulled the toupee off. We were talking about the possibilities for fun and sun in the next three days, I gathered. Marvin talked in totally unscientific generalities about updrafts and warm