Part 11 (1/2)
”What do you mean no one else will be on this tour? No one was invited? There wasn't a contest that people could win tickets from or something?”
”No.” Rick shakes his head. ”I wanted to cancel the whole visit. I still want to cancel it.”
”So the zoo staff is working overtime and no one's coming on this tour with me?”
”Or we could cancel it.”
”That would be rude.” Zach isn't having any of it.
I observe this from my cramped position, wedged between Aidan and Brent. They've set up a camera mounted on the car dashboard to record this entire exchange.
From what I can glean from the conversations I've overheard, Triple Cross under the reign of Mrs. Wechsler did a lot of PR stunts. Everywhere they went, they'd arrange events like this tour of the zoo and bring along kids dying of cancer or a Girl Scout Troop selected by a random drawing or something. They'd smile and interact with these guests from a calculated, safe distance and get a ton of photo ops that showed what great guys they were.
It makes sense why the manager thinks it's too much to hit full day after full day of work after a transatlantic flight. The problem is only two out of three band members concur, so now one lone Triple Cross member is going to tour the Madrid Zoo solo. Unless you count his entourage, which I don't. We won't be in any of the publicity stills. This'll look weird. One major celebrity walking around the zoo by himself.
Now I have some idea of why Mrs. Wechsler was so successful. She didn't just micromanage every second of the band members' time, she was good at making a visual statement that the media would grasp. Three band members walking around the zoo with some special needs teenagers and the pictures would say it all. Zach on his own, though...
”Kyra,” says Aidan under his breath, ”you could sign a release and join him on the tour. We could film it like you're a lucky fan or-”
”No,” I say.
”This could be a disaster.”
”Is this going to end up in the film?”
He shrugs. ”We'll figure that out later.”
”If you want to prevent disasters, why didn't you do anything this morning in the lobby?” I ask.
”Blowing off steam, I can make that work, you know? Show the wear and tear of a tour on the members. This zoo visit... I'm not sure what I can say about it.”
”So you probably won't use it in the film?”
”Probably not, but you never know. Something interesting could happen. Give me something to work with.” He shrugs.
When we get to the zoo, Zach steps out of the car with an easy confidence, smiling and nodding at all the right times, greeting his guide and the other zoo staff graciously. He makes each person he greets feel like she's the only person in the universe right at that moment. That's star power. It's a skill Jason has too, though Jason is more every-guy about it. You forget you're talking to an A-list movie star around him and start to feel like he's someone you grew up with and used to throw food at in junior high. Zach doesn't make you forget who or what he is for a second. It's as if the whole rest of the world is slightly out of focus. Even when I don't look at him, I still know exactly where he is. Though, to be honest, I can't stop looking at him.
This trip is awkward at best. With the right media spin, it could be an unmitigated disaster. People might think he demanded a solo tour and ordered the zoo shut down on a whim.
Aidan gives me his phone and a slip of paper with some numbers on it and why I need to call them. It's all to arrange transportation to the next stop on the tour; once again, some of the doc.u.mentary crew will be travelling via commercial flight while the rest of us will be in the private jet with the band, so I need to call to confirm seat reservations and special meal requests.
I hang back from the crowd and keep my voice low so that I don't interfere with the filming. It's best not to see how this is going anyway. Everyone else goes into an outdoor amphitheater to watch a dolphin show, but I linger outside, on hold with the airport shuttle service in Lisbon. I can see the dolphin trainer on the concrete stage, albeit from an extreme side angle, and I watch as he waves to Zach and crew, smiling with appreciation.
The dolphins, four of them, swim up to the edge of the pool and look eagerly up at their trainer like eager children expecting a treat while Muzak drones on at me over the phone connection.
The trainer throws his arms open and the dolphins are off, swimming around the pool and leaping out of the water, their torpedo-shaped bodies gleaming in the sun.
And as luck would have it, that's when the airline picks up the line, so I have to turn my back and focus on the conversation. Between this and the call to the airport shuttle company in Lisbon, I miss most of the show, but whatever. I'm not really here to see dolphins perform.
Afterwards, though, Zach doesn't leave at once, but rather accepts the trainer's invitation to step up to the lip of the tank, where the dolphins mob him much like his fans do on land. He smiles and pets them and his gaze falls on me.
”You ever petted a dolphin?” he calls out.
I nod but know I'm probably too far away for him to see it all that well. If I get closer to him, I make the shot unusable, though maybe that's a reason to get close. Maybe I should help make all the footage from this visit unusable.
No, I chide myself. You're overreacting. The very thought of Zach looking bad brings out my protective side. He can handle this.
He continues to pet the dolphins, but his face is still turned my direction. ”Come on,” he coaxes.
Coming from him, this has the power of a royal decree. My knee buckles slightly, and before I know what I'm doing, I find myself halfway around the front of the tank, walking towards him.
The camera keeps rolling as I draw close, and the trainer grins at me toothily. All my focus is on Zach, even though I'm not looking at him. Not at his face, at least. I stare intently at his shoes, the white ones with his autograph st.i.tched into them.
Right now the camera should feel like it's shooting out a thousand-watt beam of light, and I suppose I am aware of its cold, gla.s.s eye watching my every move, but it's Zach who has my stomach tying itself in knots.
One of the dolphins chitters at me, and I reach over to stroke its boiled-egg textured skin. Another one noses up under my hand and I lean over the side of the pool to give them equal attention. ”Hey,” I say as cheerily as I can. ”h.e.l.lo.”
”Have you ever petted a dolphin before?” Zach asks me. His tone of voice is low, as if we're alone together, and that just makes my nerves worse. My hand, the one on the dolphin's head, begins to shake.
”Yeah,” I say in a low voice. ”When I was a kid. At SeaWorld.”
”Which one?”
”Which dolphin?”
”Which SeaWorld?”
”Oh. San Diego.”
”Nice.”
I hazard a glance at his face and see that he's smiling. I let myself smile back. It'd be rude not to.
I did get an A in drama. Even Jason says I have potential. But the challenge of playing it cool in this situation is kicking my b.u.t.t.
”Shall we move on?” his chipper guide asks.
I duck and run for the safety of behind the cameras. ”Kyra?” Aidan asks me. ”Can you translate what people are saying here?” He points to a couple of zoo workers chatting. ”I don't know if it's interesting or not.”
”They're comparing Zach to Reid Malone, who was here last week.”
”Yeah, let's film that,” says Aidan.
I wish I'd kept my mouth shut. Even though the workers claim Zach is nicer than Reid, Reid's a notorious, self-centered, bratty child star.
LATER, WHEN the rest of the crowd has stopped at the elephant enclosure, I step away to go to the restroom. It's weird to have the whole zoo to ourselves; the restroom's cavernous silence demands voices and laughter to break it up, and I feel like I'm in some post-apocalyptic zombie movie, was.h.i.+ng my hands in an eerily deserted room.
When I step out the door and right into a figure, I gasp and jump back.
”Just me,” says Zach. He leans against the wall; it's obvious he planted himself there to wait for me. Now that he's away from the camera, he seems a lot less sure of himself. ”How'd you sleep?”