Wild Action. Dawn Stewardson
“And when Jay gets back here, I want him to see we’re being cooperative. Crackers, move it,” she added.
His head bowed, he shuffled along his perch and kicked a bar of the cage with one foot.
“In,” she said firmly. “You can come back out at dinnertime if you promise to be. good.”
He gave the cage another kick, graced her with a bird’s version of a dirty look, then eased inside.
“And the next time you get another birdbrained idea, remember this is what happens.” -She carefully latched the door, then turned to Nick. “As for you, were you deliberately trying to annoy Jay?”
“What? All I said was we weren’t going to keep Crackers in his cage for an entire month.”
“That’s not what I was referring to. I meant your line about most of your experience being with cats. If you’d told him you meant the neighbor’s pussycat, I’d have killed you. And when you asked if he’d like to see Crackers come swooping down at him again… What on earth were you thinking of?”
“Well, the guy’s a schmuck and I—”
“That is entirely beside the point. The point is we want him to think Wild Action is terrific, remember? So when he goes back to L.A. he’ll give his friends rave reviews about us.”
“A guy like that can’t have any friends. And stop talking to me as if I were twelve years old. You may own fifty-one percent of this operation, but don’t try laying down rules about what I can and can’t say to people.”
“That’s not what I was doing. I was merely offering a little constructive criticism—which you obviously can’t take. Dammit, Nick, you’re exactly like Gus.”
“Oh? Now why does that sound like an insult? Yesterday, you told me Gus was the sweetest man in the world.”
“Except when he was too stubborn to listen! Then he’d put a mule to shame.”
Nick turned on his heel and started across the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Carly demanded as he opened the back door.
“I’ve got a few mules to put to shame.”
“We don’t have any mules.”
“Then I’ll make do with the ponies.”
Punctuating his exit line by letting the screen slam shut behind him, Nick headed around the side of the house—not wanting to admit to himself that Carly’s criticism hadn’t been completely off base. Put him face-to-face with a jerk like Jay Wall and he just couldn’t resist saying the odd thing he shouldn’t. It was a weakness that had gotten him into more trouble than he cared to think about.
Deciding to check out the camp while his temper cooled, he wandered down the drive to the field and surveyed the scene.
There were four generator trucks the size of large moving vans, as well as about fifteen equipment trucks and at least as many trailers and RVs. One of the outside trailers had a sign indicating it was the kitchen, and half a dozen tables with chairs had already been set up at one end.
The site was buzzing with people, all of whom looked busy, so he just walked around the perimeter of the ragged rows, sizing things up and trying to get his mind off Carly. But she was just too annoying to stop thinking about.
He really didn’t like the way she’d talked to him like a damn drill sergeant, and he’d have had a lot more to say to her if her little lecture hadn’t taken him by surprise. But now he was adding “control freak” to his list of her negative traits.
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