Page 103 of Good Enough
“Bribed or threatened?”
“Excuse me?”
“Were they bribed or threatened? People in Roatán live in pretty much abject poverty. It wouldn’t take much to get them to say anything you wanted if it meant they could ensure food and shelter for their families. Also, wouldn’t take much to scare them into doing or saying what you wanted for the same reasons. And as far as the crew and the stuntman, unfortunately, there are plenty of weak and vulnerable people in the film industry who can be manipulated just as easily when it comes to staying employed or when given promises for the future. And I’m guessing those opportunities will never come despite those promises.”
“No bribes or threats needed when it’s the truth.”
“So. You’re threatening me with these lies?”
“Oh, it’s not a threat, Serrano. What I said is exactly what will happen if you don’t leave my office as I just described.” His smile became predatory. “I almost hope you try to fight me. I will love watching you and your career go down in flames. But I should warn you, if you do fight me, all of this evidence will go to the police, and your career will be over.”
This was that final battle Kai had worried about. The one where all the small lost skirmishes led to. She could feel rage bubbling from her feet, up through her body, to her brain. “You are so lucky I don’t have a gun on me,” she hissed. “I’d shoot you right here where you sit and not blink an eye.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. So violent. Who’s threatening who now, Serrano? You always were such a hothead. Never could keep that mouth of yours shut. Always spouting some sort of vitriol. And you were dumb enough to have Felicity leave the door open so everyone could hear your threat.”
He was twisting all of their battles to suit his narrative.
So that was the game all along. But why?
“Fuck off, Stapleton. There’s probably a long line of people out there waiting behind me to have the opportunity to put a bullet in you. Most of them work directly for you in this goddamned office.”
Kai stood directly in front of his desk, hands flat on the surface as she leaned over. “Now you listen to me, you arrogant, misogynist prick. I’m willing to bet every penny of every film I’ve ever made, as well as my reputation, that all of your so-called evidence against me is really evidence against you. You have been nothing but a burr on my ass from the moment I accepted this job. Everything was always wrong. No decision I made was acceptable. No choice was right. And based on what? You kept spouting budget concerns, but the truth is, it’s you who was the real problem. I know you’re the one behind the sabotage of the film. The fantastic film we still managed to make, finish on time, and come in under budget. I’m willing to bet the board hasn’t even seen the final cut yet. And when they do, I think they’d agree with me.”
Suddenly, in her head, she heard Waters. As painful as that sound was, she grasped it like a lifeline.
“You can only take so much punishment before eventually, the damage will become too great to rally. When that day comes, you’ll need to lean on those people when those moments come. You have an army you aren’t even aware of. They’ll heal the wounds you suffer, and they’ll do it gladly, without question.”
She stood up straight. “You haven’t counted on one thing, Stapleton. And that is that I have a tribe. Everyone I work with will know that everything you spill out of your mouth is a lie. Every piece of so-called evidence you have is trumped up. It won’t matter how solid it appears because I’ve spent years building my tribe up around me. They know me. They would do anything for me because they know I’ve protected them from cocksuckers like you who think because you hold the combination to the money vault, you’re untouchable. That you can do whatever you want, say whatever you want, and have whatever you want.
“Each and every one of those people will have my back, no matter how miserable you aim to make me or my life. Somehow, I must have known I would need every one of them one day. Today is that day.”
She picked up her backpack, swung it over her shoulder, and made for the door. When she got there, she turned to face him. “Do your worst. I promise you that I will rain down fire on whatever you put out there, and then I will crush you like a bug under my boot. You don’t scare me. You’ve never scared me. And men like you never will.”
41
MAY 20TH
Waters
The bar was a dive. They’d been coming here for years, mostly because it wasn’t somewhere guys like them would hang out. There was a pool room that never seemed to get used except by them, so it became their place to hang out when things were slow at the office. Mostly older, blue-collar workers hung out here drinking beer, watching sports, and paying no attention to anyone around them. It was perfect for hiding in plain sight. No women. No fights. No bands or gimmick nights. No food. Just blissful anonymity.
What the hell am I doing here?
The team had dragged him out at lunch. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be at the office. He had work to do.
No. That was a lie. He wanted to be with Kubrick. But that wasn’t going to happen.
And whose fault is that, dipshit?
As soon as someone came in the door, the sun sliced through the dimness of the main room. The only other place there seemed to be light was here in the side room with the one lone pool table and the three bar-height round tables, each with a couple of stools that had seen better days. The room was rimmed by high-set windows above a row of mirrored beer signs. The late afternoon sun was shining in through the grime and dust.
He chalked his cue stick and went to the upper left corner of the table, bent over, ready to sink the striped seven ball into the lower left pocket, then run the rest of the table and clean Nemo out of his paycheck. Just before he took his shot, his eyes registered movement in the doorway, so he looked straight up to find Kubrick standing in the doorway.
If this were one of her movies, there would have been an electric fritz and a loud crackling noise. Waters felt like all of the oxygen left the room as his eyes met hers. He didn’t blink. He didn’t move. All sound was gone.
He registered the missing baseball cap, the hair that was half out of the ponytail, and more flyaway than usual. Eyes wide as they surveyed the room around him, her hands clenching and unclenching, then crossing over her stomach, gripping her elbows as if she were cold. Or in pain. She shifted from foot to foot, her expression skittish, like a deer poised to flee from a hunter. When she almost immediately let go of herself, he noticed what looked like red blotches on her crisp white blouse, and it appeared that one sleeve was ripped, possibly a button or two missing.
What the fuck? Kubrick?