He gave me a look. “Name’s Wes Callahan, Juliette. Your dad sent me. I’m your new bodyguard.”
CHAPTER 2
Juliette
What a day.
I walked out of Bradley Wilson’s trailer at five o’clock after a long, shitty day. Arlo had not, in fact, called the director this morning to inform him that his lead actor was demanding another set of rewrites. So when he showed up at nine to start shooting, all hell broke loose.
I wound up working ten hours on rewrites in Bradley’s trailer, while he did stupid shit like gargle with rose petals and get a lymphatic neck massage from a massage therapist who cracked his knuckles every five minutes and told his patient that his “lymph nodes hold rage.” Not to mention, I had to play charades to guess the changes Bradley mimed because his throat was a littlescratchy, and he worried he’d lose his voice during filming.
So, the very last thing I needed at the end of this day was to find Wes Callahan, the guy from this morning, parked next to me in the studio parking lot.
He watched me as I walked to my car, but didn’t roll down his window until I knocked on it.
“How did you even get past the guards at the gate?” I asked. “You can’t get onto the property unless you’re on the pre-approved list.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I rolled my eyes. He might be better looking than the others, with his chiseled jaw and enviably full lips, but this guy was one of my father’s goons all right. That was exactly the type of response Vince Ginocassi, or any of his men, gave whenever I asked a question.
“You’re fired.”
The jackass smirked. And I hated that my eyes lingered on his mouth for a beat too long.
“You can’t fire someone you didn’t hire, sweetheart.”
“Well, you can’t just follow me around. That’s harassment. I’ll go to the police.”
“We don’t know each other yet, but trust me when I say that won’t stop me.”
Ugh. The jerk might have a jawline that rivaled Henry Cavill’s, but he was no different than my father’s regular crew. I knew there was no point in arguing with him, so I didn’t waste my breath. I got into my car and pulled out. As I waited at the guard’s station for the parking gate to go up, I called my father. Not surprisingly, he still didn’t answer.
That did not change the fact that the last thing I wanted was one of my dad’s people following me around, so when I got out to the main road, I made a sharp U-turn and hit the gas instead of taking my usual left. I weaved in and out of side streets with my heart racing until Wes’s car was no longer behind me.
I felt a little high at having lost him, at least until I pulled up in front of my house and found the jerk blocking my driveway with his car. He leaned against the driver’s side door, tossing his keys into the air and catching them. He smirked again when he saw me, and I decided I officially hated him—especially because he looked annoyingly hot, and my body reacted.
I rolled down my window and growled at him,notnoticing his broad shoulders. “Move!”
“Say please.”
“I amnotsaying please.”
He tossed the keys into the air and caught them again. “Then looks like you’re going to have to park somewhere else.”
I slammed the car into reverse and nailed the gas, causing the tires to chirp. Steam practically billowed from my nose as I parked in front of the house and got out. Wes had his truck open now and was unloading a suitcase.
“Uh… What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.
“Moving in with you.”
“Like hell you are!”
***
Maybe I shouldn’t have made him sleep in the car. It was a little bit chilly last night—for me at least. But even if he wasn’t cold out there, he had to have been uncomfortable.
My father had some nerve sending this guy here, but I knew it wasn’t Wes’s fault. He’d just been doing his job. I realized how demanding Dad was, and this guy likely had no choice but to go along with all of this. His life could literally depend on it.
