Uncharted (17 page)

“Leave you?” She kept that cheerful smile on her lips like a label on a bottle, hiding her anxiety. “I don’t want to leave.”

“I’ve been talking to Ed Ferretti.”

She shrugged. “My agent gets around.”

“Don’t be coy, Karyn. You know what we’ve been talking about.”

She stared at him a moment, then dropped the smile and the pretense. “Right. I was hoping you two would work everything out.”

“Why didn’t you come to me? We’ve been working together nearly ten years—”

“Wes, I hired an agent to take care of the business end of things so I wouldn’t have to. I’ve never been good at negotiation.”

“In this case, maybe you would have done better than Ed.”

Her stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re free to sign on with
My Brother Beau.
”

“You guys worked out the schedule conflicts?”

“There
are
no schedule conflicts.”

She blinked. “But—”

“You’re free, Karyn, because I expect 100 percent from our cast members. Tomorrow will be your last day with us.”

She gripped the armrests on her chair as black emptiness rushed up like the bottom of an elevator shaft. “But Lorinda isn’t—”

“The writers are going to work on it tonight. We’ll tape Lorinda’s unexpected demise tomorrow, then you’ll be free to go wherever you want. I don’t want to be the one to stand in your way.”

She gaped at him a long moment, then shook her head. “I didn’t want it to end like this. I thought I could manage both jobs.”

“Sorry, kid, but that’s not the way I work. Good luck with the new gig; stop in and see us sometime. And I hope”—his mouth curved in a mirthless smile—“your sitcom doesn’t get canceled right out of the gate. That happens a lot in prime time, you know.”

Karyn sat in numb silence as the big man hauled himself out of the chair and moved toward the doorway. He paused before leaving: “See you round the schoolyard.”

He closed the door, a thoughtful gesture, because an instant later Karyn burst into tears. What happened? Ed had assured her everything would be fine. But nothing in life was certain, and a career in television was about as solid as quicksand.

She lowered her forehead to her hand and allowed the tears to flow, then reached for a tissue. Crises came in threes, didn’t they? First David’s death, then having to see Kevin again, and now this. For more than a week she’d been about six inches away from a crying jag. This news was
not
going to help her regain emotional stability.

She blew her nose and stared at the rows of cosmetic applicators in the cubicle where she’d enjoyed the attention of professional hair and makeup stylists for nearly ten years.

“It’s over,” she whispered, catching her reflection in the mirror. “But this was only one chapter. There’ll be others.”

She drew a shuddering breath, then slowly exhaled. She’d have to sit here a few minutes until the redness left her face—she couldn’t let the crew see any sign of her distress. They’d hear the official story later: she left the cast because she won a prime-time role on a surefire sitcom.

If
My Brother Beau
failed, maybe no one would remember the show was supposed to be a hit.

She reached for a lipstick and pulled off the top, then smoothed the coral color over her dry mouth. So—if tomorrow was her last day, she still had a week to kill before joining her new cast members in Maine. She could stay in New York and fret about unemployment, the uncertainty of prime time, and possible bad press, or she could jet to the other side of the world, help build a school, and pick up some positive publicity.

She might even be able to sell a few pictures.

No one would report on her dismissal from the cast of
A Thousand
Tomorrows
if they were offered the inside scoop on the actress with a heart of gold.

She’d call her publicist and give her all the details. And who knew? In the tropical heat of the Marshall Islands, she might lose a few pounds without even trying.

22

Los Angeles International Airport

Lisa checked her watch: at 8:55 on Tuesday morning, only she and John Watson had shown up for the trip to Kwajalein. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask John who else might be coming; she wanted to be surprised.

Hard to believe, though, that John would be this relaxed if they’d be building the school by themselves.

“The journey itself will be an adventure,” John said, crossing his legs as they sat in the Continental gate. “We fly from here to Tokyo, then we have a four-hour layover before we fly to Guam. We’ll have seven hours there to shower and sleep, then we’ll catch a morning flight to Kwajalein. We should arrive on the island around dusk, just in time to get settled for the night.”

Lisa repressed a shiver of excitement. “We’ll be passing the international date line, won’t we?”

John grinned. “Right. Though we’ll be landing in Tokyo only eleven hours after we leave here, it’ll be a day later in Japan. It’s a little confusing, but we’ll pick up the missing day on our return.”

She folded her hands, as excited as one of her preschoolers. “It’ll give me something to tell my students. Not many people get to live the same day twice.”

“Unless you’re Bill Murray in
Groundhog Day
,” John deadpanned; then he lifted his chin. “I think I see another member of our party.”

Lisa peered into the approaching stream of travelers, then laughed. Susan had stepped into the gate area, looking like a lost lamb, but she smiled when her gaze crossed Lisa’s. “Thank goodness you all are here!”

Lisa stood and wrapped her friend in a hug. “I’m so glad you came.”

“I couldn’t leave all the work to you and John. I figured you’d need a domestic diva to organize things.” Susan hugged John, then dropped her shoulder bag into an empty seat. “Please don’t tell me we’re the entire team.”

John’s eyes twinkled. “Not quite.”

Lisa studied the streaming crowd and clung to the promise in John’s words. If he expected others, Kevin might still show up . . .

A moment later Karyn appeared, dragging a wheeled suitcase and struggling beneath the weight of a bulging shoulder bag. Kevin walked behind her, a half smile on his face. Lisa couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been silently amused by Karyn’s struggle with her luggage or if someone else had made him smile.

“Kevin! Karyn!” Susan joined Lisa in embracing the newcomers.

Karyn dropped her bags to the floor, then wiped her brow with a dramatic gesture. “Whew! I’m bushed already. Are we crazy, or what?”

Kevin looked around the circle, then slanted a brow at John. “Are you and I the only male members of this party? I should warn you, I’m not much of a builder. I was born in a white collar, so I was kinda hoping Susan could do all the heavy lifting—”

“Why, you—” He flinched as Susan landed a playful punch on his upper arm. Lisa wished she could feel that relaxed around Kevin. Susan made everything look easy.

Lisa lowered her head and pretended to study her luggage tag. This was her fresh start. This was
her
time, a vacation away from the real world.

She lifted her head and gave Kevin a blazing smile, then blushed when he winked in response. She shifted her gaze to John. Let Kevin wonder if she meant that smile for him alone. He might think she was only excited about the trip; later she could explain that
he
was the main reason she signed on.

Susan looked from Karyn to Kevin. “What is your daughter doing this week?”

Lisa saw the quick look that passed between the pair before Karyn replied: “Sarah’s staying with a friend of mine. She’ll probably be spoiled rotten by the time we get back.”

“Well hello, strangers! Better late than never!”

Energy drained from Lisa’s smile when John opened his arms to welcome Mark, who strolled up in shades and sandals like a pop star greeting his groupies.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he called, doing a poor imitation of Fat Albert. “Is this unanimous, or what? The group unites again!”

John clapped Mark on the shoulder, then smiled around the circle. “I hoped you would all agree to come. And I’m thrilled you actually showed up. This occasion probably deserves a speech, but since we’re going to spend a lot of time together in the coming week, I’ll spare you the theatrics.”

“Forty-four and a half hours of travel time,” Lisa said, nodding at Karyn. “Each way.”

When Karyn groaned, Mark slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Lean on me, honey. I’ve got some stories that’ll make the hours pass like minutes.”

“I’ve heard your stories,” she said, smacking his arm as she pulled away.

“Then Lisa will humor me.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and winked at her. “Won’t you, hon?”

Lisa smiled, but something in her shriveled every time Mark looked her way. Why couldn’t he let the past stay buried? That was probably the wrong question to ask at a reunion, but their relationship had never stood a chance. She’d liked Mark a lot in the beginning, but as she got to know him, something at the core of his personality disturbed her.

It disturbed her still.

John lifted his hands to snag their attention. “Maybe a little speech
is
in order.”

Kevin shook his head in mock horror. “Not one of your famous pep talks.”

John grinned as the group laughed, then his expression grew serious. “I know,” he said, memory softening his eyes, “that David is looking down from heaven and watching us now. I know he’s glad you’ve come. By the time our task is complete, I hope you’ll be glad too. I think this week will change your life forever.”

Lisa lowered her gaze. John couldn’t have said it better. She wanted to change her life, and she’d be content as long as Mark maintained a friendly distance. And if Kevin should decide to move a little closer, why, she’d be ecstatic.

She was more than ready for a new life.

As Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” thumped out of the Japanese jukebox—a tune Mark had selected—Karyn lifted her glass and turned to face the others. “To the group,” she said. “To reunion.”

“Hear, hear!” They clinked their glasses and drank, but an instant later Karyn was sputtering over the brightly tiled table.

“It’s warm.” She lowered her glass. “Nobody told me sake was warm.”

Mark looked at the tumbler he’d just drained. “I knew there was a reason I’ve never wanted to go to Japan. Now I understand. Warm beer doesn’t appeal.”

Lisa frowned. “You didn’t tell me this stuff was alcoholic.”

“Still our little Miss Morality,” Kevin said, a teasing light in his eyes. “Lisa, I’m amazed at how little you’ve changed.”

Karyn smiled when a blush colored the top of Lisa’s cheekbones. She had always been a little gullible and easy to embarrass.

Karyn took comfort in the fact that a lot of things hadn’t changed. Susan was still lovely, Lisa still straitlaced, Mark still blindly egotistical. And Kevin—well, he’d gone from loving her to not loving her, but otherwise he was very much the same workaholic.

Ignoring the techno-pop on the jukebox and the babble of foreign languages around them, Karyn slid off her bar stool and solemnly raised her hand. “I want to make a statement.”

Kevin lifted a brow. “How much of that sake did you drink?”

“I’m not drunk.” She glared at him. “I’m perfectly serious.”

The noise in the airport lounge continued, but her companions fell silent. She waited until she was certain she had their attention. “I want to say that though this has to be the longest day in the world”—she closed her eyes, waiting for them to chuckle—“I’m glad I could spend it with all of you. While I’m sad about the occasion that brought us back together, I’m
not
sorry we reconnected. I love you guys. I feel like I connected more with you than with any other people in my life.”

Lisa waved a finger in Karyn’s direction. “Even that hunk who plays your husband on
A Thousand Tomorrows
? How many times have you married him, anyway?”

Karyn’s mouth twisted. “Four. But the first time didn’t count, remember? The Dalai Lama didn’t have a license.”