Page 65 of Love On and Off Set

“Are you enjoying your new gig? Hallstein said he felt you were better suited to close protection rather than access control.”

“I hope to prove him right.”

“Well, you’ve got your hands full.” He grinned. “Andreas is a spitfire. Not well-known, but I’m hoping this movie will change that. The kid’s got talent.” He eyed me. “Sorry. You’re about his age, right?”

“Three years older.”

“Right. And you’re about my husband’s age, and I definitely don’t think of him as a kid. He’s a production assistant on Vigilante Justice. Heck, if you do well on this production, I might ask Hallstein to transfer you there.”

“That would be…amazing.” VJ, as everyone at the studio called it, was a big deal. Top rated network show, heading into its sixth season. First-rate cast and crew. “I’m up for whatever you can offer.”

“Along with your PhD?” Valentino grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. “I thought parenting was a multi-tasking nightmare. I can’t imagine doing a doctorate.”

“Most of my classes are completed, so I’m working on my dissertation and self-study. Tons of reading. Fortunately, I’m a speed reader.” I had my body angled toward Valentino, while still keeping an eye on Andreas.

The day was warm, and he was sipping a bottle of water. “Does he look flushed?”

Valentino squinted. “A little. They’ll cool him down before the next shot. I have to run, but I wanted to say great job.” He nodded and headed off toward the director.

Great job? I haven’t actually done anything. And he wouldn’t be saying great job if he knew Andreas had snuck out last night. I pursed my lips.

Eight hours later, I was driving him back to the hotel. The actual distance was only a few blocks, but he appeared plum worn out.

Colette was driving Norah as well.

I didn’t comment that Norah’s accommodations were…more upscale than my charge’s. I hoped he didn’t notice. “I’ll come upstairs with you.”

He placed a hand on my arm. “No, you won’t. I can manage to take an elevator to my floor without a problem. I swear I’ll stay in for the night and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I glanced from his hand to his face and back to his hand.

He withdrew it.

“I know you went out last night.”

“Nope.”

“I’d appreciate if you didn’t lie to me.”

“Not lying. Didn’t go out. Stayed in and learned lines. I know—tonight while I’m doing that, we can be on the phone together. Then you’ll believe me.” He glared. “You’re always going to hate—”

“I don’t hate—”

“Right.” He shoved the door open, hopped out, slammed the door with way more force than necessary, and stalked off.

I held my hand on the handle. Logically, I should be following him. He wasn’t trustworthy. All I had to do was imagine the video—with him trussed up in women’s underwear and handcuffed to a bed—and know he wasn’t a responsible person.

Still, I sat and waited.

What, precisely, are you waiting for? He said he’d call you tonight, and you could go over lines. Of course, that was before he took off in a hissy fit.

My phone buzzed with his name, and I tapped to accept the call. “Ready to do lines already—”

“There’s someone in here.”

The line went dead.

I ran.