Chapter 15 "You can't live your life worrying about some people."
"Take a good, slow stretch. You've earned it." 'Damn straight!' Hinata sat on the gym floor, her legs straight out in front of her. She glanced at her watch as she reached for her toes. Six-forty-seven. Almost over. The class was jammed with hard-bodied corporate overachievers looking to start their day with a burn before they went to work and set the world on fire. Hinata despised this predawn torture session, but when her determination flagged she visualized herself in that new, short, black leather dress, size 5 thank you very much. She wanted to keep the weight off, and this was the only way to fit in the exercise, because her days at OSA were long and her nights many at the office, the rest on the town, were even longer. Before the end-of-class applause she tugged her jacket over her tank and spandex, then headed out the door to hop a cab.
Hinata preferred her own shower, with the fluffy towels and nobody else's funky wet footprints on the tile. Besides, she was home so seldom she looked for opportunities to enjoy her luxury apartment In Konoha City. She paid enough rent for it. Hinata kicked her sneakers off, continued down the hallway and heaped her sweaty gym clothes on the floor of her closet. Cleaning lady is coming today. She can take care of it. When she first hired a woman to clean, Hinata worried that her messiness would be dinner table talk the way Aunt Mebuki used to complain about her clients. Once in a while she wondered if Aunt Mebuki was still cleaning and funneling lifestyle tips to Sakura, but her former friend, her used-to-be sister, was still too hot a topic for her to hold on to, so she'd drop it. Hinata got over her uneasiness in a hot hurry and quite enjoyed plumped sofa pillows, the tart smell of lemon oil lingering in the air, and neat piles of clean clothes that appeared at the foot of her bed like the laundry fairy had brought them. Her time was too valuable to spend on housework. Hinata prided herself on fitting more in a day than anybody else could. Her agenda was filled, confirming she didn't have one moment to spare.
In the kitchen she flicked on the TV. When Hinata was home a set was usually on so she could check out the competition's ads. She poured a cup of coffee from the pot that was timed for six-forty-five A.M., swallowed a vitamin with the first swig, tore the bread center out of half a bagel, then munched on the crust as she headed for the bathroom. In the shower a blast of cold water and some peppermint suds cut the sweat. I have to drop Fū a note. Hinata had met the editor last night at an event, and she was ever conscious of building her network. Then she let a thought of Toneri dart through her mind while she ran the loofa along her thighs.
Toneri Ōtsutsuki was a stock broker, and her current companion of choice when the occasion required a date or she needed to get laid. Strictly speaking he was handsome, his pale skin, shaggy white hair, attractive facial features, he oozed success from the crisp collars of his custom shirts, to his hand-sewn, mirror-shined wing tips. Toneri had a son and daughter from a previous marriage and a vasectomy, a convenience Hinata appreciated greatly. Toneri was as single-minded about his career as she was, so there were no misunderstandings about commitment. Neither of them wanted any. The sex last night was good-n-plenty. She dragged out of Toneri's bed at five-twenty and was at the gym by six. Hinata preferred sleepover dates at her escort's place because he'd have to deal with the sticky sheets. Toneri liked them because she was good at finding the door by herself. He was a decent lay, but last night he'd suggested they take a trip together. 'I don't think I can take him for a week in Bermuda.' He will bore me to tears. But she had more important things on her mind than a vacation.
The announcement of which producer would be elevated to group head was expected any day. Kakuzu had become VP, director of Broadcast Production after a rift in the agency over whether to solicit takeover bids left the position open. In the last two years, so many independent shops had been swallowed by international, mega agencies, it was hard to know who was in bed together and who was on top. After bitter infighting, OSA lost a horde of key people to Akatsuki Worldwide, Ltd., their most widely rumored overtaker. Several accounts threatened to follow. Rumors wore running shoes at the agency, and morale wallowed in the gutter, but Kabuto Yakushi, Orochimaru's right hand man and business partner, rallied the staff and stabilized the situation. Hinata paid lip service to the shame of losing so many talented people, but she secretly cheered the shake-up. It made room for her to ease on up the ladder. For weeks all the producers had been jockeying for position and privately handicapping each other's chances to succeed Kakuzu. Hinata emerged as one of the favorites, but lots of folks weren't happy about that. Hinata had a reputation for being difficult and exacting. She knew that meant she was a bitch with big, brass ones, but she liked that and kept them polished. A tough negotiator, she kept the budgets down on her projects by examining every detail and finding ways to do it for less. Scouting new directing talent was her trademark, and she had developed a stable of competent, no-name directors who worked their asses off on a shoot instead of the big-name, bigger-budget directors with egos to match, who the creatives always fought for. Hinata trimmed the production schedules to the bone and took pride in finishing on time and within budget. Clients loved her because her commercials had pizzazz without breaking the bank, and so did the account execs, because happy clients made their jobs easier. Out of the shower, a quick blow-dry, some hot rollers, and her long curly 'do was done. Hinata decided to grow her hair out down her back, still with her bangs. The longer seemed to enhance her looks. Hinata smoked while she applied her executive producer face, carefully contouring and highlighting certain areas. Sometimes she still found herself craving Cinnamon buns, like Aunt Mebuki used to make, or red bean soup, especially when the pressure was on, but then she'd immerse herself in work and smoke until the hunger passed. Hinata sat on the end of her bed to pull on panty hose. As far as she was concerned, there was nobody in the shop who could be, should be, promoted, but her. Karin made group head almost three years ago. The situation had been tense for a while when rumor had it that Hidan would get the nod over Karin. Hinata tiptoed on thin ice during that whole episode. Hidan had been her boss, and Hinata knew he was a better producer, but Althea had been at OSA longer and she was Hinata's friend, so if lines were drawn, she'd side with Karin. They discussed strategy over many a cocktail. Fortunately, Hidan surprised everybody and left for LA to produce a flick directed by a college friend. Hinata fastened the clasp on her signature pearl choker. With her first year-end bonus, she splurged on them. Black silk shell, black skinny mini, white-and-black tick-check nipped-waist jacket and red bottom heels, then Hinata did her twirl in the full-length hall mirror. Over the years she'd learned the secret of good packaging and how to work what she had. Hinata grabbed her keys, her suitcase, and she was out the door by seven-thirty. Karin assured her she had a lock on group head. "Can't be anyone but you," she said.
Supervising other producers would mean headaches to the tenth power, but Hinata felt she was ready. She'd see a nice chunk of change in her paycheck, too. Maybe it'll finally be time to approach my father. The hope of adding Hiashi Hyuga's portrait to the gallery of relatives displayed around her apartment kept Hinata motivated, even when she was less than thrilled with the prospect of producing yet another fifteen-second selling extravaganza for a product nobody needed. For as little as Hinata thought about her, Anko might as well be dead and buried, but her bogus clan had expanded from the great aunt she "adopted" in college and now included grandparents and even Dr. and Mrs. Mitsarashi, posed in front of a late-fifties Buick. But she'd ditch the whole crew in a heartbeat for a picture of her father, her real father. Maybe a snapshot of the two of them with his arm around her shoulder.
Hinata diligently followed his career, kept tabs on The Hyuga Companies, and never forgot the proud, stern faces of her ancestors that kept watch from the walls of Hyuga House. Although he made fewer appearances at Republican White House dinners, Hiashi Hyuga remained in the limelight. In addition to New York, His not for profit centers had opened in Philadelphia, DC, and Boston. Two months ago she clipped an article about a building he'd acquired for his first center in Konoha. It would open in the fall. The timing was flawless. Her bitterness toward Kiba hadn't kept her from volunteering time at the church where they met. She found it was the perfect way to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas since she had no family demands and didn't want to fall prey to invitations from acquaintances who pitied the holiday lonely. When the new Hyuga center opened she'd switch her allegiance to that and get more involved. With her promotion she might even have enough clout to persuade OSA to produce free public-service ads for the nonprofit agency.
On the cab ride to the office she daydreamed about approaching Hiashi at his annual Martha's Vineyard affair. Despite yearly invitations from Mrs. Seramu Roran one of the residents whom she met the summer she stayed, Hinata hadn't ventured back to the Vineyard because the thought of a social situation that involved Mr. or Mrs. Kiba Inuzuka made her stomach turn. But she would even risk that torture to talk to her father. She'd introduce herself, engage him in a witty conversation, and make an offhand suggestion about the ads. He'd give her a business card and tell her to get some ideas to him. She knew she wouldn't work with him directly, but he'd be aware of her professionalism and she'd see to it he was impressed with the results. Slowly she'd work herself into his sphere, and, when the time was right, she'd tell him. At first he'd be shocked, but by then he'd know and trust her. She'd be discreet, of course. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass him. Every now and again she'd try on "I'm Hinata Hyuga daughter of Hiashi Hyuga," just for size. More than anything, though, she wanted him to be proud, and since she wasn't looking for anything but his acceptance and respect, she was sure it would work out—when the time was right. But that was the future.
Right now she had projects at critical stages and she got to the office revved and ready. Hinata had worked long hours to devise an around-the-world-in-two-weeks shooting schedule for the recent project she was working on. She still had mosquito bites the size of quarters from the tropics last week, and she was leaving straight from the office to fly to Alaska.
"Thought you'd like to see what your friend has to say about you." Sora slid a memo across Hinata's desk, then perched on the chair opposite her, crossed his perfectly creased pant legs, and sipped from a OSA mug.
"I love a man who can dish before coffee break." Hinata shook her head.
"But never before brunch on Sundays." He gave her a wicked grin.
After the first year Hinata realized Sora wasn't a threat, and she actually found him entertaining in a bitchy way. He made producer eventually, but he only did local clothing discounters and supermarkets, nothing national. "Go on, read it and freak."
Hinata took the paper, expecting a reminder about covering the DVDs in the conference rooms after use, but as she read her brow wrinkled. "Where the hell did you get this?!"
"I never reveal my sources, but don't thank me. The cat fight will be reward enough."
The memo from Karin to Kakuzu offered her critique of the producers being considered for the group head position. Hinata couldn't keep the words in her head, so she read aloud, "'Hinata Mitarashi is a maverick who, while very effective on her own, is not a team player. She has shown skill as a producer, but she has an antagonistic relationship with several key art directors, and her abilities as a manager need further development. "I don't believe this shit. Are you sure this is for real?"
"Would I bother you with slanderous falsehood? Well, possibly, but not this time. I'm afraid Miss Uzumaki wrote this little ditty all by herself." Sora stood. "I'll leave you to your revenge. Do remember to tell me the gory details."
Hinata headed, memo in hand, straight for Karin's office. She could hear her at lunch day before yesterday. "I don't know what kind of spell you cast over Kakuzu, but when it comes to this promotion the only two words he seems to know are Hinata and Mitarashi." Hinata refused to feel hurt. That would imply she expected more of friendship, and she prided herself on having learned that lesson. She just hated it when somebody thought they got over.
"What's up? You look kind of tense." Karin was looking up a number from her address file.
Hinata stood, arms akimbo, the paper dangling at her hip. "What do you think is holding up the big announcement?" Cool as a breeze she waited to hear what lie Karin had to tell.
"I haven't heard a word. I don't know what you're worryin' about. You're gonna hear before anybody else does."
"Maybe not. Seems some people don't think I'm ready."
"You can't live your life worryin' about some people, because they mostly have their own agendas." Karin leaned back in her chair and propped her hands behind her head.
"I guess you would know, Karin. But since we mavericks like to get our news from the horse's mouth, maybe you could tell me if Kakuzu asked you to write this memo, or if you volunteered." Hinata sauntered to the desk and placed the memo in front of her.
Karin didn't break a sweat or miss a beat. "No harm intended. If I give you a glowing review, Kakuzu and the rest of these folks will assume because we're both friends we stick together. It makes my judgment look shaky and won't do you any good either."
Hinata stared at Karin like she had antlers. "So you're saying you bad-mouthed me because we're both friends and it looks bad if you recommend me for a promotion? That's the biggest load of bullshit I ever heard!"
Karin leaned forward, placing her hands on top of the memo. "Personally, I hope they give it to you …"
"Don't even bother, Karin. Why would I believe anything you say now?"
"Listen, there's only gonna be a few of us, women, with a title beyond secretary …" Karin reached for her cigarettes.
"And you figured I wouldn't notice your scissors sticking out of my back because you decided that few shouldn't include me, is that right?"
Karin lit up. "You give me far too much credit. Kakuzu, Kabuto, Orochimaru, they're gonna do exactly what they damn well please …"
"Then you stay the hell outta my way!" Hinata barked.
Karin's eyes narrowed and she blew smoke through her nostrils. "You know, I got you hired …"
"Karin, I got me hired, so let's stop right there! My grades! My work! So don't take credit for what you didn't do and don't expect me to play the grateful sidekick, 'cause I'm not! It's a damn good thing I'm not in one of your groups. You'd probably have cooked up some shit to get me fired! And you needn't bother speaking to me unless it's unavoidable business, 'cause pleasantries are no longer required or welcome."
Karin folded her arms on the desk. "Don't think you scare me, Hinata. I've been threatened worse on the playground as kid. You should also know, I always won."
"Your childhood victories don't interest me. This ain't a playground, and I am not playing!" Hinata wheeled and left.
Hinata closed her office door and sucked all the smoke out of three cigarettes. Whenever she got this angry, she went to Karin to vent. 'That's fuckin' hilarious', but she didn't laugh until she stubbed out her cigarette in the OSA ashtray. It's probably bugged. Hinata ordered chicken dill on a roll, a double espresso, and a bag of Milano cookies, and while she waited for delivery tried to remember anything she'd told Karin in confidence that could come back to haunt her. She bitched about Deidara all the time, but that wasn't a secret—she argued with him to his face. Hidan had recommended her promotion to producer, so if Karin actually told him Hinata referred to him as an obnoxious, know-it-all he probably took it as a compliment. She thought about going straight to Kakuzu, but she wasn't supposed to have seen the memo in the first place, and she'd have to explain where she got it. Besides, what could I say? Karin called me names? That was lame in second grade. 'My work will stand up for me.'
The client's meeting for a sports drink was frantic. The creative were toying with the idea of building the campaign around high-performance athletes, like marathoners, mountain climbers, and channel swimmers, who walk a little on the wild side. "Take it to the Limit" was the working title for the spots. "Lebron is committed to the competition, and the client is too cheap to sign him anyway," Deidara sneered. He'd let his hair grow long enough for a ponytail, the over thirty and still hip hairstyle of choice in advertising. When Hinata's assistant nudged her and tapped his watch to remind her the car would be downstairs in fifteen minutes, there was a preliminary list of athletes to pitch. Since Hinata's assistant wasn't going on the Alaskan leg of the trek, she left him with instructions to check on their availability and fee range while she was away, then she was out the door.
'What the hell am I gonna do if Karin screwed me out of this promotion?' Her traveling companions, the Adventurer AD and the director went to sleep after dinner, but Hinata was still too angry to sleep on the cross-country flight. Yes, there were people who had been at OSA longer. Karin put in ten years before she made group head. 'That's not my problem. There's a spot open, and I'm ready.' And Hinata was ready to finally meet her father, and she counted on the job to help her make that happen, to show him she was somebody he could be proud of, Karin had probably lied to his brother, too, or invented some scheme to use him. That's really what happened. Karin's warning about men like Hizashi and Hiashi had haunted Hinata since her summer internship. Now, as they descended toward Sea-Tac Airport, she dismissed it. She lied about me. She's just like Anko. She'd lie about anybody if it suited her.
They caught a connecting flight to Anchorage, then took a private plane practically to the door of their lodge in Chitina, a tiny town at the edge of the Chugach Mountains. In the first day, Hinata spent the morning with the director and the AD, strapped into a four-seat plane the size of a winged sofa, scouting locations. Despite the spectacular beauty of the snow-glazed peaks, Hinata stayed focused on finding a large plateau, close to the airstrip so they could helicopter the Adventurer and stunt driver to the location. After lunch the driver arrived. They showed him the locations and mapped out their shots for the next day. On day two snow squalls kept the crew grounded in the lodge all morning. Periodically the pilot checked in, but the news wasn't encouraging.
"Even if the snow stops, the winds gotta pipe down before we can fly."
"Swell." 'I don't have time for this!' Bad weather wasn't on her schedule. With each passing minute, Hinata's internal mainspring wound tighter, so before it snapped she went to her room to phone the office. The client's account exec bounced off the wall when Hinata told him about the delay.
"I should be there."
'Like your presence would change the freakin' weather!' Hinata said she'd be in touch. Hinata's assistant had casting info on the jocks for Sports Quencher, but Creative wasn't satisfied they had come up with the right ones to pitch, so they were still looking. Sora had the serious tea.
"I don't know if Karin did you in or not, but Kakuzu announced the new group head, and it wasn't you."
Hinata hung up and lay, facedown across her bed, feeling like she'd been kicked in the guts with steel-toed boots. I can just see Karin gloating. The storm still swirled at three in the afternoon, and Hinata reluctantly called the day. Snow and blustery wind continued the next day. A winter-carnival atmosphere prevailed, but Hinata wasn't festive. She saw her budget rise with each falling flake, and there wasn't a thing she could do but wait. After lunch she toyed with calling the shoot and heading back to Konoha, the next scheduled location. She had permits, insurance, location vans, the works, booked for Sunday, but at the rate they were going, they wouldn't make it. It didn't make dollars or sense to bring everybody back to Alaska either, so she called her assistant back to have him reschedule the Konoha date, then went looking for the director to discuss the possibility of her going directly from Alaska to New Mexico to prep the full moon in the desert shot.
The next morning the sun finally sparkled and the clean, crisp air tingled in Hinata's lungs. The crew plane landed safely on the plateau, but snow had drifted waist-deep in places, and finding a spot for the head-on shot was exasperating. They got some film, but no one felt they had the shot. Hinata decided to proceed with the aerial shots the following day. Radio communication between the car and the helicopter faded in and out, so progress was slow, and Hinata felt as if she'd been cold for a month. When they finished the aerial work they scouted for another location to reshoot the head-on view. They found a plateau at a higher elevation, and Hinata decided they'd do it again in the morning. If I'm gonna be late, the film's gotta be great. The snow on the new bluff was light and powdery, and the angle of the sun created less glare. The director was able to catch the snow flying off the car and make it look electrified. Hinata knew this was a winner. On the return trip, the two-hour layover in Seattle until her Konoha flight made Hinata restless. I shoulda been in the office today. Alone in the Executive Club, she sipped coffee, smoked, and stared absentmindedly as another plane raced down the runway and nosed into the sky. Hinata worried about making up the lost time, keeping her numbers down. It had all spun out of control, and she had to keep a tight rein from here on. When this commercial is in the can, 'I'll make an appointment with Kakuzu, get his take on my situation.' After sweet mountain air the conditioned stuff felt suffocating. 'I don't know what the hell else they expect from me!' But she planned to find out so she could double it. Unable to thumb through another magazine she marched past the receptionist.
"Will you be back, Miss Mitarashi?"
"Yes. Just stretching my legs." Hinata exited into the buzz of the main terminal, passed newsstands and cocktail lounges, then wandered outside for some fresh air. A family with a mom, dad, three kids, and a sizeable stack of luggage, piled out of an aged station wagon. If that's not Mr. & Mrs. America, I don't know who is. And next year, after they see my spots, they'll be climbing out of an Adventurer. Dad pulled off to find parking and a maroon Jaguar replaced it at the curb. Hinata's eye involuntarily traced the car's sleek exterior. 'Damn, that's pretty. One day.' The driver's door opened. Hinata noticed the woman's perfectly coifed pageboy first. No natural force would move a hair out of place. Her azure blue suit complimented her skin and drew Hinata's eye. Good TV color. Executive, but not mannish. "Mom, look! The TV newslady!" The little boy pointed with his cast. "Shhh. And don't point. It's rude," his mother cautioned. Skycaps hunched each other and nodded toward the local celebrity. Newscaster. Bingo. Hinata flicked her cigarette into the street, checked her watch, decided to go back inside. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the brim of a Panama hat dip below the open trunk of the Jag. Just before she walked through the automatic doors the boy squealed, "Look, Mom! It's Naruto Uzumaki!" 'It can't be!' Hinata wasn't prepared to add Naruto to today's already full plate. She turned to investigate. 'Yeah, it's him.' For the briefest instant she could feel the blood pounding in the veins at her temples. Too much damn coffee. The boy wriggled free of Mom and bounced like a ball in front of Naruto, pleading for an autograph. Naruto ruffled the kid's hair, reached in his blazer pocket for a pen, and signed his cast before Mom claimed him. 'He looks like a million dollars.' Naruto stood tall and broad like an monument, but more than that he exuded a major-league presence. Hinata watched people stop what they were doing and stare. He turned his attention back to his companion, pulling her to him, whispering in her ear. When he kissed her, he tugged her bottom lip just enough to show they'd shared more than dinner. She giggled behind her hand and gazed wistfully into his eyes. Then he helped her behind the wheel, closed the door, and she drove off. Hinata fished in her pocket, put a cigarette to her lips, flicked the lighter. 'Looks like Mr. Uzumaki has a long-distance thing.' She noticed the bitter, burning smell first, then the tiny flame at the tip confirmed she had lit the filter. Damn! She dropped it and ground it to tobacco dust with her shoe. A skycap approached Naruto, who had only a garment bag slung over his shoulder. "Man, can I just shake your hand?" Naruto grinned and obliged and the skycap walked back to his post with his chest poked out like Naruto had done him proud. Hinata heard people murmur his name or just, "Fox-in-the-Hat." Naruto wore a cocky, "Yeah, I know I'm the shit." expression. Then he walked right by Hinata, into the terminal. "Speak," "Don't Speak" did a "heads or tails" flip-flop in her mind before her mature adulthood got the better of her. Hands on hips, she called in a low voice, "Naruto Uzumaki." Maybe a hitch in his step, but he kept walking, like he hadn't heard. She followed inside and caught up next to him. "Naruto Uzumaki, you gonna ig me?"
He stopped, cocked his head in her direction, but nothing registered. Then, "Holy sh..! Hinata? Is that you?" For a split second he looked like he'd seen the Ghost of Christmas Past, but he played it off smoothly.
"Yes it is!." Despite her pumps, Naruto towered over her. She eyed the diamond in his left ear.
"Well I damn sure wouldn't recognize you since you changed so much." He leaned down like he couldn't decide whether to kiss her or shake hands, but a group of swaggering, almost-men toting duffel bags walked by and one called out, "Hey, Fox, you kicked Mariner ass last night, but you all right!" He straightened, pointed, and nodded, then turned back to Hinata.
"You like all that?" Hinata fell in beside him, and they continued through the terminal.
"Can't say as I mind. If they don't call my name, I'm not doin' my job."
He looked both ways along the concourse, like he was searching for the emergency exit. His easy manner with strangers seemed lost with an old friend.
"So, ah … Seattle must be good to you."
"I'm passing through. Business." She noticed people check out their progress and felt uneasy with so many eyes, following her.
"Looks like you got ties here, though." Naruto looked puzzled.
"Miss Jaguar Newscaster?"
"A recent acquaintance. My free agent status means I can explore all the options."
"Uh-huh."
For several steps she couldn't think of what to say. 'I talk to strangers all the time. Why is this so hard?' "So, your mom and dad … they still in the Hidden Leaf Village?" It was like the mention of the old neighborhood triggered the emergency warning system in Naruto's head.
"I uh … got 'em a place in North Carolina … Pamlico Sound. Dad likes to fish …" Naruto stiffened, started looking around the terminal. "Well, it was good seeing you. Keep on doing what you doing." He looked past her eyes, patted her shoulder, and bailed out.
"Yeah, you too," she said to his back as he glided away. 'I'll be damned!' This felt worse than their last parting. Now it was like they were complete strangers. 'Screw him then!'
When she got back to the lounge the receptionist whispered, "You know Naruto Uzumaki? The baseball player?" She pointed toward the bar.
"He's in there." She meant to go back to her seat by the windows, but her feet took her to the mauve and mirrored bar. A clutch of men in single-breasted corporate uniforms hovered around Naruto, obviously thrilled to be with a genuine sports star. Everybody eats this up. She perched on a stool at the far end, ordered a gimlet, and listened to the hero worship.
"Naw I don't wear the Series ring when I travel. Gets in the way. Besides, that's old. I'm hunting for some new jewelry, even if I have to go to another team to get it."
The men laughed and continued to grill him. A few asked for pictures, for their kids they said. When the boarding announcement came for her flight, Hinata saw Naruto stand, reach into his pocket, and throw a bill on the bar. "Gentlemen, that's my plane." Hinata hung back. Part of her was riled up and wanted to confront him, ask why he had left her like she had the plague, but what was the point? One encounter was enough, and she watched Naruto swagger out looking like he expected to be noticed, and, if she wasn't mistaken, the chip was on the shoulder opposite his carry-on. Naruto was already basking in the attentions of a knot of flight attendants in first class when Hinata boarded. She had to slide by them to get to her seat in business class. He never saw her. They act like it's the Second Coming. 'He's just a damn jock.' she scowled. After they landed Hinata told herself to ignore him, but on the ground in Konoha she still kept Naruto in view. In baggage claim a woman with legs up to her armpits wearing a leopard print cat suit that scooped to her waist in back and fit her like skin everywhere else, caught sight of Naruto. She tossed her mane of Blond hair like the star of a music video, licked her lips, and pounced. Naruto folded the leopardess into his arms, whispered in her ear, kissed her lips. Same shit, different chick. He's a star, after all. Hinata got a better look at her and realized it was Shion, the model whose features graced the cover of every other magazine on the newsstands. Hinata headed toward the taxi line, pretending she was not annoyed as she watched Naruto escort Shion to a waiting limo.
In the morning, jet lagged and generally pissed-off, Hinata stormed around the office like big-foot. She went over emails and memos, including the official group head announcement, choking back the acid burn in her throat with coffee and a cruller. She checked on the progress in New Mexico, went over the grocery list of athletes her assistant had compiled, then dropped in on Deidara.
"That Tour de France guy is okay, but bike racing is not exactly burning down the house in the States. There's still nobody who gives me goose bumps," he grumbled.
"Tell me again what you're looking for." She perched at his drawing board and doodled swirls on a sketch pad while she listened. Deidara rocked back in his desk chair and closed his eyes.
"I want a hunk with attitude, big, not stupid. He needs personality and untapped commercial potential, because the client won't spring for an established name. But he's gotta ooze that sweaty, sexy, arrogant thing."
'Don't even think it, Hinata.' "Let me do a bit more research and get back to you." Hinata plastered on a smile, went to congratulate the new group head, and smoked like a forest fire while he packed to move out of his old office and rubbed salt in her wounds. She called out for lunch, listened to some voice-overs, but no matter how she tried to avoid it, Deidara seemed to be spelling N-A-R-U-T-O. 'There's gotta be somebody else.' Every time she relived their airport rendezvous she got madder. 'He shoulda just kept walking when I called him, even though he wouldn't treat one of his beloved fans like that.' But this was business, and if Naruto was the answer to the clients riddle, she had to pursue it because her feelings didn't put two cents in her wallet, and it was her job to keep the client happy. Perched on the corner of Deidara's desk, Hinata folded her arms.
"So, how about a big, chiseled, home run-hitting baseball player? World Series ring, single, virile, no scandals I know about. He's got an edge like a razor blade, a good voice, and he appeals to a wide cross section of ages, socioeconomic levels, genders, races. I've seen it with my own eyes. And no prior product commitments to my knowledge."
"I'm, salivating. I wish he played football or basketball … more sweat. But if he's active off the field, that'll help."
Against her better judgment, Hinata said she'd have her assistant make inquiries about Naruto's agent and his going rate and marched along the hushed halls toward her office.
"Hinata, I'm glad I ran into you." Kakuzu, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, appeared behind her. "I was going to call you this afternoon. We need to talk." He took a pull from the slim cigar he held between his fingers. 'Great, I can hear the shit he's gonna sell me about how being a bridesmaid is an honor, and maybe next time I'll be the bride.' At least I can get this over with. She followed him to his office making small talk about the vast Alaskan wilderness. He motioned her to the couch in the sitting area that overlooked the busy streets and buzzed his secretary to bring in coffee. 'Oh, this is gonna be a marathon.' "Hinata, you're one of the best hires we've made since I've been with this agency …" 'Here it comes, the horse manure de jour.' "And we did a lot of very hard thinking when we made our choice for group head …" 'But it wasn't you, so this is how you can break your ass to impress us next time.' She crossed her legs and waited for him to get beyond the apology to the meat of the matter. "I don't have to tell you the economy took a nosedive last year. Some of our accounts have been hit below the belt, and that means we say ouch. To stay ahead we've had to make some changes." He took a pull on the cigar, frowned. 'What the hell is he saying? He can't be firing me.' The smell of the smoke and the thought of unemployment made her dizzy. "The thing I hear most from clients now is 'Kakuzu, can you save us some money?" The hair on Hinata's arms stood up. Not getting the promotion was one thing, but being escorted out the door, that couldn't be happening. She wanted to drag the words out of him. "As you know, the more we keep production costs down, the more money the client has for his media buys, which is where we make the real money. Are you with me?"
"Absolutely." 'Get to the damn point.'
"What I'm saying is we've created a new position, senior broadcast resources director. As far as we know, we're the first agency to take this approach. The position answers directly to the VP head of Broadcast."
So it's at least on par with group head. Hinata steadied her hands on the cushions to keep from falling off the sofa. "This person would oversee production and Creative with regard to budget. Now, you and I both know that for most of this decade, the more of the client's money we spent, the more they liked it. Kind of a badge of honor. That thinking won't fly now. Our idea is to keep production costs in hand while ensuring the quality we're known for."
"That person will catch hell from all sides, Kakuzu. Producers, group heads, Creative … Nobody likes a watchdog." Hinata shifted anxiously.
"You've been extremely successful at holding down costs and producing a quality product. I expect some resistance at first, but be assured, we think you can handle it, and we have your back on this. Are you interested?"
'Yes!' She wanted to shout. 'But I can't sit here with a shit-eatin' grin on my face. Be dignified.' "I'm honored." 'This job will be hell. Everybody'll hate me, but it's a big promotion. Damn, it's a huge promotion. Tough shit on whoever doesn't like it. Fuck it, I'm going to give in, shit-eatin grin it is.' "When do I start?" Hinata was so happy, it almost hurt. They discussed salary, which put her above group head, by a healthy margin. Maybe enough for a Jaguar. The promotion was effective immediately, but she would complete any projects she had in progress. And since Hinata was on her way out of town, Kakuzu called a meeting for later that afternoon to make the announcement. Hinata went to lunch with Kakuzu and Kabuto, which raised many eye-brows at the elevator. She sailed smoothly through the meal, giving Kakuzu suggestions for where he should stay in Paris this October when he took his wife to celebrate their twentieth anniversary. Kabuto peppered her with questions about what his son could expect in September, his first semester at Konoha Academy. All the while she really wanted to get back to the office and phone Sēramu, to say hello and, by the way, find out when Illumination Night would be this summer since she might be able to squeeze a few days on the Vineyard in August. And get herself invited to a certain barbecue at Hyuga House. Stunned murmurs ricocheted around the Room with the introduction of the new senior broadcast resources director. She received cordial congratulation from the producers, group heads, and creatives who would be subjected to her scrutiny. Karin, green as a sour grape, left as soon as the meeting was adjourned. Kakuzu also announced that Sora would take over Hinata's position.
"Congratulations to us." Sora clicked Hinata's champagne cup. "Glad they kicked you upstairs. I think I like my spot better, though. You get to cut everybody's goodies. Make us stay at fleabag motels. At least I'll still have friends."
AN: I updated a few of the older chapters I didn't realize at the time that I should've gave Hinata Anko's last name. So I went back and fixed it. Also an explanation that Anko had Hinata believing her last name was Hyuuga like Hitomi's. Hinata found out when she got her birth certificate from Anko and saw her last name. She went by Mitsarashi from Highschool on. Thanks for reading, leave a comment.