twins shook their heads.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Stephen told him. “We really do appreciate all you’ve done. It’s time to let go. We’re going to be fine.”
Like hell they were. They were kids playing at being adults. They thought they knew it all. They thought the world was fair and life was easy. All he wanted was to protect them from themselves. Why did that have to be so hard?
There had to be another way, he thought as he stalked out of the small motel room and slammed the door behind him. Someone he could reason with. Or, at the very least, threaten.
“GEOFF SPIELBERG, no relation,” the long-haired, scruffy-looking man said as Finn approached. “You’re from the city, right? About the extra power. Lights are like ex-wives. They’ll suck you dry if you let them. We need the power.”
Finn studied the skinny guy in front of him. Geoff “with a G” was barely thirty, wore a T-shirt that should have been tossed two years ago and jeans with enough rips to make a stripper nervous. Not exactly Finn’s mental image of a television executive.
They stood in the middle of the town square, surrounded by cords and cables. Lights had been set up on stands and strung up on trees. Small trailers lined the street. Two trucks carried enough Porta-Potties for a state fair, and tables and chairs were set up by a tent with a buffet line.
“You’re producing the show?” he asked.
“Yes. What does that have to do with my power? Can I get it today? I need it today.”
“I’m not from the city.”
Geoff groaned. “Then go away and stop bothering me.”
Even as he spoke, the producer was heading toward a trailer parked on the street, his attention on the smart-phone in his hand.
Finn kept pace with him. “I want to talk about my brothers. They’re trying to get on the show.”
“We’ve made our casting decisions. Everything will be announced tomorrow. I’m sure your brothers are great and if they don’t make it on this show, they’ll find another.” He sounded bored, as if he’d said those same words a thousand times.
“I don’t want them on the show,” Finn said.
Geoff looked up from his phone. “What? Everybody wants to be on TV.”
“Not me. And not them.”
“Then why did they audition?”
“They want to be on the show,” he clarified. “I don’t want them to be.”
Geoff’s expression shifted to disinterest again. “Are they over eighteen?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s not my problem. Sorry.” He reached for the handle of the trailer door.
Finn got there first and blocked his way.
“I don’t want them on the show,” he repeated.
Geoff sighed audibly. “What are their names?”
Finn told him.
Geoff flipped through files on his phone, then shook his head. “You’re kidding, right? The twins? They’re going to make it. The only way they’d be better for our ratings is if they were girls with big boobs. Viewers are gonna love them.”
Not a surprise, Finn thought. Disappointing, but not a surprise. “Tell me what I can do to change your mind. I’ll pay you.”
Geoff laughed. “Not enough. Look, I’m sorry you’re not happy, but you’ll get over it. Besides, they could be famous. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“They should be back in school.”
Geoff’s attention had been captured by his phone again. “Uh-huh,” he murmured as he scrolled through an email. “Right. You can make an appointment with my secretary.”
“Or I could convince you right here. You like walking, Geoff? Want to keep being able to do that?”
Geoff barely glanced at him. “I’m sure you could take me. But my lawyers are a whole lot tougher than your muscles. You won’t like jail.”
“You won’t like a hospital bed.”
Geoff looked at him then. “Are you serious?”
“Do I look serious? We’re talking about my brothers. I’m not going to let them screw up their lives now because of your show.”
Finn didn’t enjoy making threats, but nothing was more important than making sure Sasha and Stephen finished their degrees. He would do what he had to. If that meant physically crushing Geoff, then he would do it.
Geoff shoved his phone in his pocket. “Look, I appreciate your position, but you have to see mine. They’re already on the show. I have nearly forty people working for me here, and I have a contract with every one of them. I’m responsible to them and to my boss. This is a lot of money.”
“I don’t care about the money.”
“You wouldn’t, mountain man,” Geoff grumbled. “They’re adults. They can do what they want. You can’t stop them from doing this. Say I kick them off the show. Then what? They head to L.A.? At least while they’re here, you know where they are and what they’re doing, right?”
Finn didn’t like the logic, but he appreciated it. “Maybe.”
Geoff nodded several times. “You see what I’m saying. Better they’re here, where you can keep an eye on them.”
“I don’t live here.”
“Where do you live?”
“Alaska.”
Geoff’s nose wrinkled, as if he’d just smelled dog excrement. “You fish or something?”
“I fly planes.”
The scruffy producer brightened immediately. “Planes that hold people? Real planes?”
“As opposed to those that are remote controlled? Yes.”
“Sweet. I need a pilot. We’re already planning a trip to Vegas and we’re flying commercial to keep costs down. But there are other places, maybe Tahoe and Frisco. If I rented a plane, you could fly it, right?”
“Maybe.”
“It would give you a reason to stick around and watch your kids.”
“Brothers.”
“Whatever. You’ll be part of the production staff.” Geoff placed his hand on his chest. “I have family. I know what it’s like to care about someone.”
Finn doubted Geoff cared about anything or any one but Geoff. “I would
