Page 95 of It'll Always Be Her

Bee clamped a hand over her mouth to hold back a gasp.

“Dan and Kevin don’t know that, do they?” Adam continued.

“They don’t care either,” Clyde replied, and Bee could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “Ratings and advertisers are what matter to them, and who brings those in? Me. Not you. Despite your new little groupies.”

“Oh, for god’s sake. This is revenge? I know you hate sharing the spotlight, but fucking the show over out of jealousy is pathetic. Even for you.”

“I don’t need to be jealous of you,” Clyde retorted, though his tone was unconvincing. “I’m the one the show needs. You want me to tell the executives to fire you? Because they will.”

“They won’t have to when I quit.”

“Sure, then what happens to the episode you directed?” Clyde asked. “You want to give it up right when it’s going into postproduction?”

“I’m not giving it up. That’s the point.”

“Why the hell do you even care? This ghost crap is all bullshit anyway.”

“Of course it’s bullshit,” Adam snapped. “We’re telling a story. Andthisis a good one, which is why you’re not controlling the end just because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”

Clyde barked out a laugh. “Powers, stop wasting my time. Get the science crap written into the script so we can finish the shoot and blow this joint.”

Adam muttered something that Bee didn’t hear the instant before the conference room door flew open. He stalked out, his expression dark with anger and his features set.

His gaze crashed into hers, his eyes widening.

“Bee…”

She shook her head. Her throat was tight. If she said a word, she might burst into tears. Turning, she hurried back to the circulation desk.

“Bee,”Adam hissed, striding after her. “We need to talk.”

She swallowed hard. She’d known from the beginning that the show could claim that Captain Marcus was a hoax, except that hewasn’t. And Adam was right—they had plenty of visual and aural evidence that he couldn’t explain. Well, he probably could, but he obviously didn’t want to.

“Rebecca,” she called to the assistant, who was arranging new books on the horror novel display. “Can you watch the circ desk for a few minutes?”

“Sure.”

Bee gestured for Adam to follow her, leading him to the kitchen and break room. She closed the door behind him.

“This isn’t a done deal yet.” He spread his hands out in a gesture that was almost a plea. “Yeah, Constantine brings in viewers, but the producers won’t let him or the show be used for someone else’s gain.”

Bee stared at him. “But that’s what I was trying to do too. I didn’t think that Marilyn would try to turn things in the other direction. I mean, I should have realized she would, but…”

She sighed. A heavy sensation pressed against her chest and shoulders, like the air in the house was pushing down on her.

“Bee, I’m going to fight this.” Adam stepped toward her, urgency threading his voice. “I’ve been telling the producers all week how great the footage and recordings are. I’m going to write the script to get Clyde off my case, but I’m also going to film him saying his line about how he can’t explain the evidence and the house might be legitimately haunted. Then after we’ve edited the show and the producers see the storyline, they’ll agree with me. I swear. He won’t get away with this.”

When Bee had left a foster family in her childhood, there had always been a singular moment when she knew the hopes she’d built up were about to come crashing down.

It started when her social worker arrived, but culminated as she stood there in the foyer with her battered suitcase, and the adults all said their goodbyes and talked about “next steps.”

She’d tried clinging to the wish that one of them would say something to change the situation—maybe we can make it work, why don’t we try again, she really is a good girl and no trouble at all—but they never did.

And the instant the door closed behind her, her heart had shriveled up into a tight little ball like a crushed piece of paper.

The way it was doing right now.

“Adam.” She blinked back a sudden sting of tears. “I believe in a lot of otherworldly things. A lot of unexplainable things. But never once have I believed that we always get what we want. No matter how hard or desperately we wish or fight for it. Sometimes we just…lose.”

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