This occurs during the episode "Tequila Bay," which is about a TV crew casting lifeguards and filming a promo for a new TV show about lifeguards. (Of course, the trailer isn't picked up because WHO WOULD WATCH A TV SHOW ABOUT LIFEGUARDS?) There's a moment where everyone is preparing for filming and we see Stephanie walking around, looking at everything, and she looks kinda sad.
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Stephanie walked across the beach, past actors and camera crewmen, and swallowed a lump in her throat which almost threatened to come out in liquid form down her cheeks. She would not be crying on this beach, and for such a ridiculous reason, that much was certain. She observed Summer and Matt as they laughed together and pointed out the inaccuracy of it all. Stephanie was sure she could laugh with them, if the burning sensation in her stomach would only subside long enough. Still, she approached and stood next to them, nodding a greeting, because they had picked the best location for viewing the charade.
CJ was still seated, surrounded by hairstylists and make-up artists. While Stephanie didn't envy her for this, she found it hard to place the feelings she was experiencing. Watching a younger, blonder, shorter, and bouncier person playing the role of herself was a foreign feeling. Wanting to be younger, blonder, shorter, and bouncier, though, was not foreign to her. It had always seemed to Stephanie that she was too tall, too serious, too skinny, and too brunette to be considered desirable. The experience of being passed over for CJ reinforced this belief yet again.
Stephanie involuntarily rolled her eyes as Mitch joined their group of onlookers. Great, he came to criticize the show again. She contemplated returning to headquarters-there was a stack of incident reports that she really should be working on-but it was so nice to stand on the beach in the morning light, without needing to patrol. She sighed.
Perhaps it was her stance-arms crossed over her chest, lips turned downward into an uncharacteristic frown-that alerted Mitch to her attitude, but he turned to Stephanie and asked, "Are you okay?"
There was no malice in his tone, so Stephanie wasn't sure why she reacted so violently. She rounded on him and opened her mouth to berate him for his intrusiveness. At the last moment, though, she clamped her mouth shut and brushed past him, marching in the general direction of headquarters. She could no longer stomach the spectacle and would shut herself in her office for the rest of the day. If I'm lucky, this will keep my temper in check.
Unfortunately, this was not in the fates. After about an hour of undisturbed paperwork, she heard the door creak slightly. Determined not to acknowledge the person and sincerely hoping they would go away, she continued writing. Long minutes passed before the intruder worked up their courage, and the door creaked a little more. Stephanie sighed and looked up.
Had she been in a better mood, the sight of Mitch's nervous face, half-visible through the crack in the door, would have been humorous. As it was, she gave him a withering glare and returned to her work.
"Can I talk to you?"
His voice was abnormally soft and he looked almost fearful. Stephanie squared her jaw and threw her pen down.
"You can."
He opened the door wide enough to squeeze through, then closed it behind himself. Mitch crossed the room and sat down in the chair in front of her desk.
"It appears to me," he began gingerly, "that you are bothered by something."
She shook her head. "No. I'm not. I'll just be glad when all this is over and things can go back to—"
He interrupted her, shaking his head: "Just the other day you were enjoying this! You gave him an interview, for Christ's sake—"
"Now you listen here, I wouldn't call a conversation on the beach an interview, strictly speaking. He walked up and asked some questions, I answered them—"
"Oh, and one of his questions was, Please Steph, tell me all the intimate details about your relationship with Mitch—"
Both of them were yelling now. Stephanie had lost the battle to control her temper.
"As a matter of fact, he DID ask about work relationships, and I didn't realize it was such a big SECRET that you and I used to—"
"It's NOT a secret! But I wouldn't go making a MOVIE about it—it's PRIVATE!" Mitch's face was red.
"Well I'm SORRY that I made you mad! It's what I'm BEST at!" She was breathing hard.
"Oh no no no, we are not changing the subject here. YOU are the one who's mad today, not me, and it's probably because they chose CJ to act in their STUPID SHOW instead of YOU!"
Stephanie fell silent. She swallowed. She wished and hoped and prayed that Mitch would not detect the rapid heating of her face and the constricting of her throat and the sudden dryness of her eyes. Tears welled up and she quickly wiped them away, sniffing at the same time.
Mitch's face had gone from enraged to bewildered in less than a second.
"Wait, is that what's really bothering you?" he asked, his voice quiet now.
She swallowed again and closed her eyes. Without opening them, she asked weakly, "Mitch, I would really like to be alone right now."
He reached toward her hand, then stopped himself. With her eyes closed, she did not notice. Mitch cleared his throat and stood from the chair. He crossed to the door, but before exiting he turned back toward her and requested: "Stephanie, please come and find me before you leave for the day. It is very important."
She nodded, then waited until the door clicked shut to open her eyes again. Then, she dropped her head into her hands and let the tears flow.
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