“What are you doing here? I’m calling security.”
Dasher Pate squeezed her eyes shut. It had been only a matter of time before Joe Alder showed up to once again shred the fabric of her life. She released the hand she’d been holding, the hand she’d been longing to hold for what seemed like forever, and stood to face him. The machines and tubes attached to Kate Hoffman remained impassive, although Dasher thought the beep on the heart monitor sped up when their connection was severed. Wishful thinking.
“I just stopped by to see how she was.” Why was she kowtowing to this man? She wasn’t doing anything wrong. “I heard she had an accident on the set. She’s asleep, doesn’t even know I’m here.”
Alder, a short, squat man in his forties, clenched his ever-present unlit cigar in his teeth. “She never will, either. Who let you in?” His small, almost black eyes glittered like marbles as he scanned the area, probably looking for someone to fire. He always appeared sweaty to Dasher, like he was one cheeseburger away from a heart attack.
“No one. I simply walked in. Don’t worry, Joe. I’m not here trying to steal your biggest client. I just…needed to see she was okay. I’ll leave.”
“Isn’t your mother in this hospital? What is it this time, too many Prozac combined with a fifth of vodka?” Tobacco-stained teeth were visible around the damned cigar, his enjoyment of Dasher’s pain evident.
“My mother is none of your business. I said I was leaving. Maybe you should worry about letting Ms. Hoffman try such dangerous stunts. She’s lucky she only tore up her knee and got a concussion.”
That must have been the final straw, because Joe was chomping so fast on the cigar it looked like he was getting ready to either swallow it or spit it at her. “Get your bulldyke ass out of this room. She’s my client and I tell her what’s good for her career. I don’t need your fucking opinion. You’ll never get her away from me, so I’d advise you to stop trying.”
Shaking her head, Dasher stared at Alder. “What’s the point of even trying to talk to you?” She couldn’t believe this poor excuse for a human being was Kate Hoffman’s agent. What kind of lies did he tell Kate to get her to suddenly renege on their promise and sign with him? She’d probably never know.
She left the room and searched the hall for the elevator. Her mother would need her to be there when she woke up. Her dad refused to leave his set, so here she was again, right in the middle.
Her childhood had prepared her perfectly to be the middleperson. No wonder she chose to be a talent agent rather than a part of the stunt-work industry in which her father was hugely successful. She was so accustomed to placating and maneuvering to get peace and quiet that it was second nature for her to soothe egos and manipulate outcomes to get the best for her clients. To survive.
She’d been on her way to the hospital when she heard the news that Kate had been injured and brought to the same location. Breaking every traffic law to get there, she had to check on Kate. She’d had three whole minutes with her before Alder showed up.
Five years and she still had to do it. Had to worry about Kate. The woman had signed with someone else, was straight, and would rarely even look at her if they were at the same function, but Dasher was learning that some things didn’t change.
Evidently her feelings for Kate Hoffman were in that category.