It seemed I had the rest of the day free. I wandered into Katherine's 'office'. I guess it was a tax thing or somesuch, but this was the room with all the Katherine Keller memorabilia.... her framed first Vogue cover.... a number of other framed glossy magazines and photos, including one with a very perplexed looking Dalai Lama which made me smile. There was her Golden Globe, her people's choice award, a number of teen spirit awards going back to the time she first started modeling. I hadn't realized how long she had been doing this. How long since she had been a part of the 'real world'. Maybe I thought that because I subconsciously saw what I now overtly noticed... her MTV award for that famous 'Common People' video. I'd forgotten about that. That was HER? Wow. And she's just a few years older than me. I was in grade what when that came out? That would have made her.... damn... when did she have a chance to be a teenager? Hmm. Maybe that explains a lot of what people say about her.

My eyes fell onto a stack of clippings on her desk. Some proofs of next week's entertainment magazines and some print dailies. There was an email from her agent filled with links to coverage around the net. Dez was absolutely right. Smartphone videos of our 'dinner theater' party bit. Some press about the film. Not all bad. In fact many quoted my enigmatic line about how the film must be seen to be appreciated. Some wags even suggested multiple viewings, suggesting it was too much for the mind to absorb in one sitting. A blogger crowed about how he was the first to 'invent' the Thornbirds Musical drinking game involving an often repeated bit of awkwardness that pervades the film, and I suspect Dez had thrown in there in the hope it would become a meme. Sadly it had, but not in the intended way.

There was a lot more talk about me... I mean Katherine. No, I guess I really DO mean me. Since it was my un-Katherine like behaviour that garnered so much press. As Dez predicted, nearly all of it was 'what the hell is up? This is not the Katherine Keller we know. But that's a good thing. Was she high? Is she bipolar? Whatever it is, we hope it's here to stay.' I sighed. I was totally upsetting her life. The life she was going to have to step back into when she returned from rehab. She's going to want to kill me when she finds out what I've done to it. And from the stories I heard, part of me thought that she actually might try!

Dennis came in to check up on me. He asked how I was doing and I told him I was just going to explore and get to know things better. He joked that I didn't have to worry about that, because Katherine really didn't know her own estate that well. She spent so little time here, hotels were so much more familiar to her, it was in them that she seemed to feel most at home. This place he said was more the Keller sanctuary for endangered species. I asked if she had rare animals. Dennis let out an odd, strangled laugh and quipped 'only the human kind'. And quickly changed the subject. I asked what exactly was his relationship with Katherine.

He took a long time to formulate his reply. And it was only one word, 'Fluid.' When I pressed him, he conceded that he and Katherine went way back. He thought a moment and ventured that he was her oldest... then he spent a surprisingly long time searching for the right word and came up with 'acquaintance'. He implied that she didn't really have friends. She had associates and business partners and collaborators. All were practical, need based relationships... agents, personal shoppers, image consultants, public relations coaches, personal trainers etc. She didn't really do friends, he confessed. About the closest anyone got to her was acquaintance – which was a person hired to do a job rather than her usual which was a job that required a person. So, as an old acquaintance, he had had a number of titles and responsibilities over the years. Until recently, he had been her personal dresser and image coordinator, making sure the public always saw the Katherine Keller that was expected. Never a bad hair day, never a style faux pas or wardrobe malfunction. He laughed, and explained that if I ever met the real Katherine that I would know what a truly stressful job that was. I told him that it sounded lonely for her. He got thoughtful and said that he never sensed that from her. He speculated that he didn't think 'loneliness' was in her emotional pallette. A curious choice of words that I would have to think about. As it turned out, I ended up thinking about it a lot.

I told him about Mikey's arrival and how Dez and the team were going to create a job title to explain his addition to the Keller entourage. Dennis nodded and said that was completely in line with the way things worked 'in Katherineland' and wouldn't draw any attention even from the closest insiders.

I asked if, since we were far away from the paparazzi, if it was ok if I just got comfortable. Dennis told me to help myself to anything in her wardrobe, since I was such a freakishly close match to her long wiry frame anyway. I found some workout wear that looked like it had never been worn, and, after clipping the tags, donned a pair of stretch pants, sports bra and running jacket with one of those iPod arm pockets, a pair of her running shoes and opened a packet of very expensive looking high-tech athletic socks and decided to explore as I told Dennis.

I stuffed my iPhone into the jacket sleeve and bounced out a side door and into her huge yard. Or maybe it was just a field. Eventually, I came to the beach and ran a few miles along the sand. I came across a concrete boat ramp and followed it up to a public road. I really didn't worry about getting lost, since I knew I could always use the gps on my iPhone if I became hopelessly disoriented.

The road eventually led to a very quaint shopping district with little boutiques... not a chain store in sight. I browsed the women's fitness magazines at a local bookstore and glanced to see myself plastered all over the covers of some gossip magazines. I almost laughed when I saw one that said in bold letters 'She Sings? She Dances? She SMILES???' I think someone at the store caught me glancing at the magazine and put things together because I noticed a slight commotion coming from a small crowd gathered by the front register. But no one was near me.

As I moved to the next aisle to browse, I felt the population of the store shift in response. It was as if I had some kind of force field that kept people at least twenty feet away. I began to have fun with it. Deliberately moving near where people were just to watch them nonchalantly amble over to more distant aisles. I was finally at a display near the front register which caused everyone to scatter to the far corners of the store.

I knew they were trying to figure out my odd pattern of movements. Why had I gone from magazines to the gay and lesbian section to home repair and now the occult/supernatural aisle? If they thought about it, they would realize there was a simple explanation. I was messing with them. Like a kid playing with a magnet... dragging the iron filings this way and that. I finally looked up from my book on automatic transmission repair to glance around at everyone who quickly averted their eyes, but fixed me in their peripheral vision. I lifted my arm and stuck my face in my pit, sniffing loudly, and looking back around the store questioningly. “What?” I loudly addressed the whole store. I may as well have yelled 'BOO!' judging by their reaction. They remained frozen, glancing one to the other. I finally walked up to the cashier who had to remain at her post and couldn't flee to join the others.

“What? Am I gross? Did I step in something? I feel like a leper!” I whispered.

“Oh! God, no. You're fine. You're more than fine. You're....” then she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “...aren't you... “

“Katherine.” I smiled as non-threateningly as I could. People seemed scared to death of me. “...from up the road.”

I stuck out my hand and the girl nervously shook it. I think she was expecting me to clutch her hand and thrust her into a canvas sack, taking her back to my lair like a fairy take witch.

“I was out for a run and thought I'd come in and check out some magazines..`...Want to freshen up my workout. But, um... then I remembered I didn't....” I said as I patted my skintight workout clothes, pointing out that I had no pockets, save the sleeve that held my phone. I smiled apologetically.

“No problem” said the cashier, beginning to relax a bit since apparently I was not going to start acting like an angry honey badger. “You can take what you want and pay next time. I'm sure Mr Carson won't mind.” she laughed nervously “It's not like you're not good for it!” suddenly she went pale at hearing her own words.

“That's really nice of you” I smiled “...but I'm left with the same problem" I said patting my torso and thighs again. "….unless you also sell backpacks.”

Her eyes went wide. “Um... no... we don't... maybe Linton's down the stree..”

“Kidding!” I playfully slapped her forearm. She let out a huge gasp of relief. Seriously.... was the whole town afraid of Katherine? Had she gone beserk on main street with a chainsaw?

“Tell you what. Can I grab a few magazines and leave them up here with you? Then when I get home and dressed like a cash carrying grownup, I'll come back and square up. OK?”

She nodded and walked with me to the magazine rack to help me gather my choices. I noticed she grabbed a gossip magazine too, but said nothing. When we got back to the register, she slid the magazine across the counter. “Since you're here. Is there any chance I could... I mean... might it be possible …. for me to trouble you to.....” I knew what she wanted and shook my head. She deflated a bit and sighed as if she had been expecting this.

I ran my hands up and down my workout clothes yet again and shrugged. “No pen”

Her glum expression vanished as she fumbled around behind the counter and quickly produced a Sharpie marker.

I spun the magazine around to face me and under 'She sings? She Dances? She SMILES???' I wrote “She SIGNS! To ….. “ I paused and looked at her querulously.

“Oh! Rachel!” she beamed.

“To Rachel. Thanks for all your help. Your....” I was going to write 'friend' but I remembered Dennis' comment about Katherine not having friends, and I knew that would be too far over the line, so I thought for a moment about what would work. I finally ended up signing “Your neighbor, Katherine Keller”. Penmanship lessons were part of the pre-premiere prep, since autographs were inevitably going to be involved. While I wasn't nearly good enough to forge her signature on a check or legal contract, it was deemed quite accurate and more than good enough for hastily scrawled autographs.

I slid it back to the beaming Rachel. Promising to be back for the magazines as soon as I could, then finally turned to the rest of the store who were all mutely watching this transaction. “Sorry for any disturbance. I'll go now, so you can get back to whatever it was I interrupted.” They shuffled nervously and I hope they felt suitably foolish over their bashful behaviour. I smiled, waved, and jogged out the door.

It was the same thing at the health food place, the running shop and the juice place. Though, like Rachel at the bookstore, they let me order a tall kale smoothie just on Katherine's good name. Or maybe feared name.

When I got back to the house, there was a flurry of activity. I was amused to find there was an escalating panic when I'd 'gone missing'. I reminded Dennis that I said I was going to explore, but he was thinking of me as Katherine, to whom 'exploring' might mean opening a drawer she never looked in. He had never imagined that I'd actually go running or that I'd run all the way into town. He mentioned that he didn't think Katherine had ever actually gone into town. He laughed, saying that the townspeople treated her like an urban legend. Everyone has heard of sightings, but no one ever saw her with their own eyes.

I laughed and told him about my very weird bookstore encounter, and how I'd speculated that maybe she'd gone nuts with a chainsaw on main street or something. He laughed loud and freely.

“That would be another reason! But no, THAT never happened.....” his laughter died down to a chuckle “still, I wouldn't put it past her” he laughed.

Dennis sent someone to fetch my magazines from the bookstore, as I decided I shouldn't go awol again, since straying from the grounds seemed to be very un-Katherinelike behaviour. I'm encountering this term so much, maybe I should just start abbreviating it uKb or somesuch.

I frittered around the house, enjoying her personal gym, enjoying the spectacular ocean view from her deck jacuzzi and exploring her 'infinite pool' I had never seen anything like it and did not know such things existed. It was a far cry from the community pool back home. Marta the personal cook came by to ask me what I would like for dinner. It seems Katherine's tastes weren't radically different from mine, and many of the choices that sounded most appetizing were actually menu items strongly recommended by Katherine's personal trainer and dietician and equally as strongly resisted by her. I, on the other hand was delighted to have such light, healthy choices and tucked in with enthusiasm when presented with my marvelous meal.

I made a point to thank Marta and her staff for a wonderful meal and asked her to pass along my compliments and gratitude to Kathy the personal trainer and Metz the dietician. I have no idea whether Metz is a first or last name or a man or woman, but I do know Metz has excellent taste, and that's all that really mattered. As I retired to the warm ocean breeze through the sliding screen to the outside deck and pulled the 600 thread count sheets around me, I thought to myself 'I could get used to this'. And had to remind myself that that was something I must not do.

Dez and Mikey arrived the next day, and I introduced Mikey to everyone. I think “everyone” was startled that Katherine even knew their names. One more odd 'Katherine-ism' to add to my mental notebook.

Mikey gleefully went exploring 'Casa Keller' as he quickly dubbed it, and Dez and I got right down to business – Hollywood style... over brunch.

“The cast has a slot on a network morning show day after tomorrow, but I'd like you to come to LA with me to do some post on the film. ...A few hours of ADR work.”

“I have no idea what you just said.” I smiled.

He seemed momentarily nonplussed, then grinned. “Sorry. It's just so easy to forget you're not Katherine. OK. We have a few things to finish up on the movie....”

“I thought the movie was done. We saw it the other night.”

“Yes, but it hasn't been distributed yet. A big plus of our digital age. No spending days printing hundreds of copies and shipping tons of film reels around the country. The day before it's released, someone just hits 'upload' and it begins being fed to all the theaters. Much less expensive for the film company, and it gives the producers even more time to tinker with the piece until it's frozen and uploaded. So.... I've been discussing with the producers, and after your ...attention getting... performance in front of them at Brett and Lena's party the other night, we've decided to bring you in for some ADR.”

“ADR?”

“Looping.”

I made a swirling motion with my arms “Looping?”

Dez sighed, speaking as if to a child. “Re-dubs. Dialog Replacement. You watch the movie from a voice booth and re-read the lines to match the lip-synch of the original dialog. It's done all the time where the original audio had a background noise or too much echo-ey 'room-tone'. I'm sure you've seen it where someone uses profanity and it's replaced with a nonsense word for the broadcast version.”

I nodded. I think I was getting it.

He smiled. “Hell, I've actually been on projects where entire scenes didn't work and writers created entirely new dialog! Skillfully edited so the character's lips aren't really noticeable, it can work surprisingly well.”

“So you're changing dialog, and you want me to record Katherine's part?”

“No. We haven't changed any dialog. Yes. We want you to re-record some of Katherine's lines.”

“But I'm no actress!”

“We don't need an actress. We need a mimic. And you have surprised everyone at how identical to Katherine you can be.”

“But if I'm identical, what's the point of me re-recording any of her lines.”

“Because YOU have the accent. You saw the film.... her accent was ...surreal.”

I had to smile. “It was unique.” Secretly I loved it because it made the movie even more bizarre and cult-worthy.

“OK. Agreed. So you will be re-recording Katherine's lines.”

“Which ones?”

“Umm ...all of them.”

“I'm not sure I can do that. I've never done anything like this before....”

“Let's just give it a try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Worst case, we're right where we already are now.”

“OK. I'll give it a try. NO. I'll give it my BEST.... I won't let you down.... but I do have one condition.”

“YOU... have a condition?” I could tell Dez didn't know whether to be amused or indignant. “Who are YOU to dictate terms....”

I put up my hand and smiled. “Just... just hear me out before you get all huffy.” He calmed down a bit and nodded.

“Until a few days ago, you were going to have a world premiere event without a leading lady. You were going to have to do some serious contortions to get through the press tour with one of your principals missing... AND you were going to release the film to the world with Katherine's original dialog.”

He nodded. “But now we have you and everything's changed. You're helping us tremendously ...AND getting very well paid for it... not to mention the ….incidentals...” he motioned around the palatial home. “So you are doing so well at becoming Katherine that now you are starting to make DEMANDS like her?

“Not demands. Just conditions.” I was not going to let him goad me. I remained calm and in control of our little negotiation. “Actually, it's just one condition. And it's a very small one. In fact it won't require you to do anything. Actually, I would like you to NOT do something.”

I think my setup had his curiosity piqued. He had no idea where I was going with this. I sensed curiosity replaced indignation.

“What exactly would you like us to do ….or NOT do?”

OK. Time for the big close. “When the DVD is released, I'd like you to also include an audio soundtrack with Katherine's original dialog. ….in addition to any version I do.... if I even can give you something you can use.”

He regarded me for a long time. “Why... provided we're even successful and you can re-dub her lines with an authentic dialect... why would you want to release her original tracks? Are you trying to take credit? To out yourself?”

“Of course not!” I shook my head, deeply offended at the thought. “I'm not asking for any credit. In fact, I'm at least as eager for me to remain anonymous as YOU are!” He seemed a bit contrite after my outburst, and I regained my composure. “I have a few reasons for this ….request... Katherine worked long and hard on this film. I feel bad enough stepping into her life while she's off god knows where, going through god knows what. I'm able to commit to this ruse because I keep telling myself that I'm doing her a favour of sorts... filling in for her while she can't... trying to keep her public image out there and to promote this project that she devoted so much of herself to.... I'm not replacing her... I'm standing in for her. I'm kind of holding her place... ready to relinquish it to her, in as good a condition as I can keep it... when she's ready to resume her own life. I do NOT want to storm in and replace her performance in this film. Accent or no accent, she put everything she had into her performance and I don't want to replace her. So, YES, I will supplement her... at your request... for the good of the film. But I want her original work available to anyone who cares enough to buy the film on DVD.” I stared him down. He seemed surprised, but not opposed. “SECOND....” I cracked a wicked little smile “...I want the superfans.... like my cousin Mikey... to be able to watch the movie both ways... call it 'before and after' dialog coaching. And I want Mikey to be listed in the film credits as Katherine's 'personal dialect consultant'. That'll drive his friends wild!”

“Well, the credits are a matter of union negotiations and legal....”

“Oh, come off it! You thought I was going to demand credit. I'm not... AND I'll be doing an awful lot of work on your little film. Throw my cousin a bone here.”

He smiled. “I'm sure we can work something out.”

“And don't breathe a word to him. I want it to be a surprise when he watches the DVD. He's one of those film nerds that sits through all the credits.”

“Our craft services people and transportation crew will be pleased to hear that.” He smiled.

“Anyway, it's not like this would be the first time anyone had done this.”

Dez raised an eyebrow. I don't know if he already knew and was curious to see if I could site precedence.

“Mad Max!” I said. He smiled. Of course he knew.

“They released the DVD with both his original 'Australian' dialog and the redubbed, 'English' version for international audiences who couldn't machete through the accent.” he grinned.

“It became a bit of a collectible, if I recall. There. You want a dollars and cents reason for agreeing to my condition? Release a special edition with both versions and other extras.... I'm sure you have extra stuff.”

“You have NO idea” he smiled.

Actually, I did. Among Mikey's incessant prattling on the plane over, he went on and on about how this particular director routinely shot enough material to make three or four full length films, then agonizingly whittled them down to something the studio would grudgingly let him release. Mikey kidded that he shot miniseries, but released movies.

“OK. It's agreed. We go to LA and I take a stab at rerecording Katherine's dialog with my own natural accent. ….because you know I've been working hard on her own American accent....”

“And you're nailed it. But you won't need it for this.”

“I've also been working on her movie accent and I'm pretty sure I can....”

“Noooo!” he laughed and held his hands up to shield himself. “Your own accent will be fine. The one you used when we met at the elevator in the hotel. The one that had me SO pissed off because I still thought you were her at the time and I was stunned that you'd never been able to grasp the accent when the cameras were rolling, but there, sopping wet and utterly unselfconscious, you absolutely nailed it.”

“Hard to believe that was three days ago” I muttered... as much to myself as to him. He seemed as stunned at the thought as I was. I just picked at my quiche with my fork as we mused on that. “So, when do we leave?”

“After brunch, get packed and we'll take the Jet Ranger down. Get as much done as we can today. Then all day tomorrow. Then off to New York and the media circus.”

I finally got to see real Hollywood. From the inside. And I couldn't help thinking about all those movie sets of medieval castles and western towns that were all just painted plywood facing the camera propped up with struts. 'Real' Hollywood consisted of going to a nondescript building in a nondescript office park, and going into a nondescript office with a small room ...or maybe large closet... with a large window and a microphone and headphones. I watched the movie on a big screen TV through the window, and the dialog was in a box on the screen, almost exactly like closed captioning. I would watch and listen in the headphones, and then we'd make a 'recording pass' and I'd talk over Katherine's lines, trying to capture her cadence and inflection, dead in synch with her read, in her tone of voice, but with my natural accent. It was both dead simple and surprisingly tricky. And grueling. We'd do it. And do it again. And again. And again until everyone agreed we 'had it' or they just got as sick of redoing it as I was, decided 'good enough' and moved on to the next scene. I now understand why they call it 'looping'. I was feeling spent and dizzy by the time we quit for the day.

Dez was surprisingly upbeat. I didn't understand. I felt I'd wasted so much of their time doing the same thing over and over, trying to follow their really vague directions but always letting them down, so we'd just do it again. And again. He explained that the process was monotonous by nature, and that I didn't take any longer at it than people who had been doing it for years. He even complimented me for picking up the process surprisingly fast, and said we were really tearing through it towards the end, but he could see I was getting spent.

“I thought you just got sick of correcting me after a few hours and were just making do with a take or two.”

He smiled. “If there's ONE thing I thought you knew about me by now, it's that I never 'just make do'.” He put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a small squeeze. “You took to it like a pro and we made great progress. I figure we should wrap up early enough for a decent dinner before we fly to New York.”

“What time do we leave?”

“After dinner.”

“No. I know. But I mean, what time is our flight?”

“When we finish dinner.”

I let out an exasperated 'grrrh' We were conversing in circles again. ..Talk about looping! “I MEAN, What time does our plane leave? Are we on the red-eye or something?” I actually didn't even know what the red-eye was, but I'd heard so many people talk about it, it seemed like a reference to throw in.

Dez laughed. “No! We're not catching the red-eye. We're heading east in our Gulfstream when we finish dinner.”

“Oh.” I said quietly.

“You still haven't figured out how this business works?” His words were mocking. But gentle. I just frowned contritely and let him go on. “First, if we caught an overnight flight, we'd barely make it in time. And there are so many variables. If the airline had a delay or a weather diversion or anything, we'd be totally screwed. Just two more sardines in the can. The studio has a Gulfstream. Actually, a few of them. And we can lease more when we need and lease ours out when we don't. It's sound business. AND there's a lot more cachet when your star flies in on her private jet.”

I nodded as his eyes went wide with another thing that seemed to just occur to him.

“AND none of us wants you going through the full body scanner at airport security!”

I blanched at the thought. Then Dez chuckled wickedly and I felt a joke coming at my expense.

“....Not that they'd SEE anything... Doctor Dale saw to that.”

How could I have forgotten about that! I remembered that disorienting moment in her suite when I first went to pee, but I put it out of my mind with a quick 'of course it would be gone, you're playing Katherine now' and never gave it a second thought. What the hell???

“Yeah.” I said. I could feel my anger rising.

“Just noticed, eh?” Dez laughed. “They promised it would work, but I didn't believe them until I saw it with my own eyes. Those shots Dr Dale gave you were loaded with vitamins. And a powerful tranquilizer. You weren't exactly out. But you sure weren't there.” he laughed.

“You ROOFIED me?”

“Of course not!” he got all uppity and offended. Then he sagged a little. “Well, sort of, I guess. ...actually it's a sedative used routinely in outpatient procedures. Ever had a colonoscopy?” I shook my head. “Of course you haven't. Give it a few decades. Well, anyway, this drug makes you zone out. You're responsive to instructions, and kind of aware what's going on, but you really don't care. I guess the closest thing I can relate it to is when you're still half-asleep. You're going through the motions, not really knowing where you are, or what time or day it is, and you just don't care.”

I nodded. I kind of got that.

“So Doctor Dale took the opportunity to ...how did he put it?.... 'sequester' things. He packed everything away, gluing everything into place so you could still ….relieve yourself.... only now it would come from the same spot as a woman's urethra. And he took all that dangling skin and with more glue and origami, fashioned a very convincing labia and apparent vagina.”

“And I was conscious for all of this?”

“Yes. You kept bugging him to not forget the camel toe and laughing hysterically.”

“How can I not remember any of this?”

“Well, the great thing about this drug is that when it wears off, so do the memories. Like waking from a dream.”

“Hell of a dream! And how could I not have even noticed until now???”

“More of Dr Dale's brilliant plan. While you were sort of under, and getting your relaxing massage, we also brought in another specialist. A hypnotherapist.”

“What, like one of those stage hypnotists that makes you think you're a chicken?”

“No. No. He's an accredited hypnotherapist. Does a lot of work with trauma victims and PTSD cases. He got our CFO to stop smoking. And yes, he does work at the Magic House in Beverly Hills as a hobby. ….and I think I actually have seen him make someone think they were a chicken....” He laughed at the thought then refocused. “You were given a suggestion that you wouldn't notice it was gone, and if you did notice, it would be perfectly fine, because you were being Katherine now and there was certainly no place for that organ. So you would just shrug, accept it and put it out of your mind.”

“Mission accomplished!” I spat “You might have consulted with me first!”

“We did. You were fine with it.”

“I was drugged!”

“You were lucid and responsive. Just.... uninhibited. You embraced the idea as a way to make it much easier to be a more convincing Katherine.”

“I did?”

He nodded. I guess if I had someone to be angry with, it was my own self conscious.

“Well, now that I know, how do I stop thinking about it?”

“Just stop thinking about it. It will ….recede ...no pun intended” he smirked “and soon you will forget we had this conversation and that anything is not the way it always was... the way it's supposed to be. It's all part of the post-hypnotic suggestion. Remember, the point was to help you let go and not be self conscious. Makes it easier to just BE Katherine.”

I couldn't argue with that. Or I didn't want to. So I sort of changed the subject to our original conversation.

“So I could go through security scanners without raising any eyebrows?”

“You're not planning on running away on me are you?” he laughed. “Yeah. I'm pretty sure you'd be fine. Everything's inside, so nothing's dangling where it shouldn't be. Besides, Katherine's gone through enough scanners, they already know she's 60 percent silicone.” He laughed.

I laughed too, but not at Katherine. I was lugging around the same silicone hip pads, and booty rounders, and jiggling C-cups that she routinely did. So I was having a good laugh at myself.

I got back to my hotel and ordered a cobb salad and carrot juice from room service. I wandered around the room, chatted with Mikey on the phone. Dennis had taken him under his wing and he was learning all about being a Keller minion. AND grilling poor Dennis for hot gossip and tawdry tales. I told him about the ADR session and he was fascinated. After all his questions and comments, it was beginning to seem more interesting and glamorous than it actually was. When he asked what I was going to do on my night off, I told him honestly that I was going to take a relaxing bath and get a good night's rest, knowing I had another grueling day of ADR ahead of me, then a night flight to New York where we'd meet up and begin the press blitz. I told him I didn't know when I was going to get another chance to rest and charge the batteries, so I was going to seize this one. He was very disappointed.

“I thought you were committed to this LC! To being Katherine. Is that what she would do? Or would she put on something fabulous and hit the town, ready to do something scandalous?”

“I'm sure she would. Which may be why she is where she is, and I am sitting in her suite, eating her dinner, and preparing to get a good night's rest before going off tomorrow to do her job.”

Mikey grumbled. I could sense his disappointment. I was still acting the responsible chaperone.

“Well, at least walk out onto the balcony in an open robe with an empty bottle of Kristal and flash the paparazzi!” he laughed.

“Oh, you'd love THAT, wouldn't you? You little perv!” I kidded.

“Ha ha, Yeah. That'd be.. Oh, shit. That'd be disastrous! Ohmigod LC!”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Don't worry. Not gonna happen. Still. Wouldn't be the end of the world.”

“No! It would. It would be scandalous. And not in a good way!”

“Well, I know what you're thinking. It would certainly get Katherine a lot more press attention. But don't worry. It's not going to happen.”

“Be very very careful LC. Those paparazzi are really sneaky. Let your guard down for just a moment....”

“I get it. And don't worry. And what makes you think they're not listening in on our call?”

“oh. Fuck! I never... oh, shit LC... I mean Katherine. Umm... Ms Keller... Ma'am...”

I had to laugh. “Take off your tinfoil hat. Now look at your phone. I'm skype-ing you. Not a regular phonecall. Much harder to intercept. Not that I think they are even trying. But, yes, I AM being careful. So stop worrying. OK?”

He exhaled loudly. “OK. L... I mean... Katherine.”

“See you in New York in a day.”

“You bet. ...Katherine?”

“Yes?”

“Love you.”

That threw me. I didn't know whether he was talking to me as a cousin who took him halfway around the world to have an adventure that blossomed into something beyond his wildest dreams, or whether he was actually addressing me as Katherine, for whom I assume he had a serious fanboy obsession.

“I know. 'Night cuz....” and I clicked off.