Rock Bottom (23 page)

First up: Jet and the instructor. Then the girls, one by one.

While the two men readied their gear, Billie readied her own, thankful her job didn’t throw her into harm’s way. She paid little attention until the instructor scaled upward, Jet watching from the ground.

“I’m set,” the instructor called. “Climb when ready.”

Billie bit her lip and hoped Jet wouldn’t go up too far. A rope seemed too fragile a thing to trust his life to. She hugged herself, then remembered she should take photos. Raising the camera, she never felt more like a paparazzi vulture preying on a celebrity.

The rope holding him stretched and creaked. Billie’s nerves tightened in tandem.

* * * *

After chalking his hands, Jet reached and toed up the steep mountain facade. His laborious climb brought every muscle and vein into sharp relief beneath his skin. His shoe slipped on a loose rock, and he flattened against the wall.
Concentrate.

A gasp went up from below, Billie’s among them. He thought he heard her ask, “Is this really a good idea? What if he falls?”

Against his better judgment, he glanced down. She cared. At least a little.

Closer to the wall, Justin and Danny alternated shooting video of Jet and the contestants who stood watching. Ashley and Brianna grasped each other’s arms, Julie bit her nail. Cat seemed turned on by the primal ritual, watching with an arched brow over lowered eyelids and a smoldering smile. Something definitely not right about her.

Her face a mask of concern, Billie shifted closer.

Buoyed by her worry, Jet scaled the rock slowly, passing the instructor. It made for better drama, and so far, he’d proven himself the least dramatic person on
Rock Bottom
. This would get Stu off his back for a while.

They continued climbing past each other until they reached a height some found sickening. Jet found it exhilarating.

He wanted Billie to feel it too. Every nerve-shaking sensation. The high of conquering the wall.

The instructor signaled, then walked down the rock face. Jet followed. He touched ground, then called to the instructor, whose grimace and grunts showed more strain.

People gathered around Jet, asked how it felt.

“Incredible. It’s a real rush.”

Billie scowled. “Ridiculously dangerous. Not worth the extra ratings.”

Hearing her say that sent his pulse racing faster. A laugh burst from him.

The producer glared at her, and she shrank back. Her gaze connected with his and sent a zip of lightning through him. The most powerful rush of all.

* * * *

Billie knew she shouldn’t have spoken, but no one else would speak up for Jet.

Yeah, her pulse had rushed all right. Now that he’d safely landed, she sought out the park employee to verify some facts.

“Yes, about two thousand sport climbers come to Malibu Creek State Park each year--here to Apes Wall and Echo Cliffs. Lots of LA residents are regulars.”

“And the climbs reach as high as three hundred and fifty feet?”

“Yes, more than four rope lengths, with ocean views.”

She preferred ocean views with sand between her toes, or from a hotel window. “You called it sport climbing?”

He explained how the preplaced bolts along the rock face allowed climbers to latch on securely, but still provided a challenge.

Billie felt as if she were back in journalism school. Dutifully, she jotted down the facts. Some readers would care if the Santa Monicas boasted hundreds of climbing opportunities, but she’d never make use of one.

The guide caught her interest by asking if she knew the movies filmed in Malibu Creek State Park. “Most recently,
Iron Man
used the Point Dume cliff as the site for the mansion. Of course, they didn’t build one there, just superimposed the image atop the cliff, but still, it was pretty cool.” He widened his stance. “And everyone knows about
Tarzan Escapes
and
Butch Cassidy
.”

She stifled a chuckle. In Malibu, even climbing walls were celebrities. Thanking the man, she ambled back to the group, finishing her notes.

The instructor set up the contestants to climb while he stayed on the ground, tightening or slackening the rope as required.

Julie climbed half as high as Jet, and signaled to come down. Brianna’s foot slipped at about twenty-five feet up, and she screamed when her knee slammed into the wall.

Billie sucked air through her teeth. “That had to hurt.”

“Get me off this fucking rock!” Kicking, Brianna caused the rope to sway.

The instructor called, “Hold still. Place your feet against the wall and walk down. And if you feel yourself fall, alert those around you by calling out
falling
.”

“What are you, blind? You can’t see I’m falling? Lower me now!”

“Put your feet against the rock,” he said.

“Get me down!” She shrieked again when her shoulder slammed into stone.

Danny and Justin zoomed their cameras in. Yes, viewers would love this.

Letting out the rope bit by bit, his lesson fell on deaf ears. Brianna plopped to the ground and whimpered as she dusted off her hands. “I’m getting blisters.”

No, you’re getting busted. Adios,
bimbette
.

Next came Ashley, who frequently glanced at Jet. Her fingers peeled from hold after hold, and she nervously announced she’d finished at about thirty feet up.

Ashley descended delicately. Cat edged closer, clipping the rope to her harness as soon as Ashley unfastened it. Despite the instructor’s urging to take it slow, Cat scaled upward as if imitating Spiderman. The muscles in her back, arms and legs rippled beneath the tight top and shorts. She slowed at about the height Jet had reached, then turned to pump a fist in the air. Her foot slipped, and the rope whizzed through the ring.

“Falling!” Grabbing the rope, she winced but held tight, dangling fifty feet up.

The instructor halted the rope. “You all right?”

“Yes.” Defeat sounded in her voice, and she looked up as if weighing whether to reclimb or not.

“Walk your way down, nice and slow,” the instructor called.

Cat hesitated, but did as he said. Once on the ground, she flexed her hands. “I could have gone twice as high.”

“You did great.” Jet stood beside her, aiming his smile at her, then the cameras.

The viewers would love that too, and Jet knew it. A master of playing to the audience, he’d lived half his life in the public eye. He wouldn’t know how to have a regular life. Why did she let herself think otherwise? To remind herself, Billie snapped a photo of Cat draping an arm around Jet, pressing her cheek to his.

Time to fade into the background.
They’d be packing up now, anyway. The thought of returning to the cottage held little appeal, even if it secluded her from this insane bunch. She sat on the open side of the van, kicking at a stone.

Justin carried his camera, tripod and boom mic over. “Someone’s bored.”

She forced a smile. “Never.”

“Ha. I bet you’d--”

“Billie,” Jet called and jogged toward her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He held his hands to his hips and jerked his head toward the cliff. “I thought you might want to give it a try.”

“Me? Climb?” A nervous chuckle escaped. “Not likely.” She hadn’t climbed anything but steps since she was a tree-climbing tomboy.

Watching, Justin’s movements imitated slow-mo.

“How can you effectively write about something if you haven’t experienced it? Try it. You’ll love it.”

“Have you met me? No. Thank you.” Why push her to do this? At his frown, she pointed. “The crew’s leaving, anyway. The instructor’s gone, probably.”

“I’ll be with you.” He shifted closer, his feet planted next to hers as if in challenge.

“What?” She glanced up, but the damn sunglasses made it impossible to tell what he might be up to.

His voice held the hint of a challenge. “You and me. Come on.”

He hadn’t climbed with any of the bimbos. Grasping for any excuse, she blurted, “I don’t want to waste your valuable time.”

“Well, if that’s all…my time is my least valuable asset.” His features softened as he smiled.

It would take more than a smile to get her into a climbing harness. “I’m not exactly dressed for it.” There. No way around that one.

His assessing gaze skimmed her head to toe. “What size shoe do you wear?”

“Seven, why?”

He turned and called, “Julie, what size shoe are you?”

Pausing a bottle of water in front of her lips, she said, “Seven.”

Smiling, he turned to Billie. “Perfect. Can you lend them to Billie?”

Panic threatened. “I still don’t have clothes.”

“I brought an extra outfit,” Julie offered, approaching.

“Thanks.” Billie winced. Now the bimbos became helpful when she least wanted it.

“You can change in the limo. No one can see past the tinted windows.”

Billie glanced over. Ashley, Brianna and Cat watched beside the limo, glossed lips tight, heavily mascara’d eyes glinting like daggers. The boobs might booby-trap the vehicle.

He rested a hand on the van door. “It’s more than an athletic exercise.”

“Right. It’s an exercise in futility.” She had no problem refusing a challenge. A bruised ego was better than a bruised body.

“No. It’s an exercise in trust.” He pushed his sunglasses atop his head and his eyes glinted. “Do you trust me?”

Justin made a strangling noise in his throat.

Jet’s gaze pierced Billie’s. “Do you?”

Something in his eyes drew her in, made her forget everything else. “Yes.”

His mouth opened in a smile. Julie moved away, saying something about getting the clothes.

Billie bit her lip. “I must be crazy.”

Jet extended his hand. “The best kind of crazy.”

She slid her hand in his. Her step lightened, buoyed by inexplicable happiness. The image of him standing there, smiling down at her, his hand warm around hers, obliterated any other thought while she changed.

Until she stood at the base of the rock and leaned her head back, the wall towering over her. “I can’t do this.”

“Sure you can. One step at a time.” He demonstrated how to clip onto the rings. “I’ll have you the whole way.”

Fear froze her in place. “Aren’t you going up?”

“No, I’ll act as belayer from the ground. Better leverage.”

Going numb, she looked up, then back at him.

“Trust,” he repeated.

“Trust.” She blew through her lips and chalked her hands. “I’m not going far.”

“Only as far as you want.”

“Ha. Right.” As if she hadn’t heard that one before.

Gripping a small rock outcropping, she grimaced. This would likely be the shortest climb in history. Gulping back her nervousness, she focused on the next toehold, the next ledge to grab. The surface didn’t appear gritty from below, but pebbles tumbled down as she scaled upward. The rope stayed taut with Jet reeling the line just enough.

“This isn’t so harrrrrd,” she squealed when stone crumbled beneath her shoe and she lost her hold. The rope tightened, fibers splitting away in the sunlight as she stretched its length and evened out, bumping against the wall. Heart pounding, she barely heard Jet below.

“You’re okay. Take your time.” He seemed so small, but she felt his pull on the rope. True to his word, he held it, watching her every move. He had her back.

“Probably wants your front too. Belayer.” She giggled. “He’s the biggest belayer of them all.”

She channeled her focus and scanned the rock above for crevices and nooks. The cliff face smoothed out, leaving fewer choices.

Studying the few available, she debated going back. “I’m going to do this, dammit.” Someone had written that the wall seemed like an eight-story slab of Swiss cheese. A fair description. She’d have to look up the type of igneous rock again. Basaltic something, sounded more like a vinaigrette than stone.

Stretching high, her fingers found a pocket.

“That’s it, you got it,” Jet called.

Billie wasn’t so sure as she reached for the next hold and her fingers peeled away. Her toehold gave way, and she fell a few feet before the rope went taut, jerking the harness into her waist.

Jet held it tight. “You’re doing great.”

Seriously? It didn’t feel that way. Swinging from shadow into sunlight, she dangled like a spider with vertigo, but somehow, it was fine. Jet wouldn’t let her fall. Oh yeah, she was supposed to yell that. “Falling,” she sing-songed, but not in the way others meant it. No, she was falling in a much more dangerous way.

She should feel defeated, but exhilaration pumped through her. Waving, she stopped herself from spinning. “I’m coming down.” Planting her feet on the wall, she walked backward. Yeah, down was much easier.

He gripped her waist as she neared the ground and whirled her, his laughter mixing with hers. Lights flashed as Justin crouched with her camera.

Her feet finally touching solid earth, she beamed up at him. “That was incredible. I never thought I could do it.”

“I told you you’d do great.” He uncinched the ring from her harness.

Justin held the camera display toward her. “Look how high up you went.”

She leaned over the image. “That’s not me, is it?” Her knees shook. Against Apes Wall, she appeared miniscule.

Jet flashed a smile. “You conquered it.”

“Because of you.” She’d treated him so badly. Why couldn’t he be nasty instead of supportive? And adorable?

“No. You did that yourself.” His smile faded.

Stu clasped his shoulder. “Can we go now? The crew’s on the clock.”

“Yeah. We should go.” Frowning, he wiped his hands and let Stu guide him toward the limo.

Tripod on his shoulder, Justin walked past, and imitated Stu’s cheesy grin. “Let’s go. On the clock.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Not a bit, she thought. Today she’d conquered Apes Wall. Okay, not the entire wall, but more than she’d ever thought possible. The entire ride back, she relived each moment. The connection she’d felt with Jet today went deeper than the harness and rope linking them.

When Justin pulled up the driveway, she grabbed her bag.

He laid a hand on her leg. “Hey, come by the editing room later.”