Page 9 of Good Enough

Kai looked at her watch. “When did you have in mind?”

“My schedule is open. We could meet at the office whenever you’re free.”

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Much as I could use a break from the studio right now, I have a meeting with the executive producer in thirty minutes. Depending on how dickish he’s being today, that meeting could be between thirty minutes and six days.” She mumbled, “Shithead,” under her breath. “After that, there will be people traipsing in and out of my trailer for the rest of the day. I really can’t get away. Could you come to the lot around three o’clock?”

Another pause followed. “I can do that. Where do I report to?”

She snorted. “I’m guessing you know where the studios are, although thank you for the courtesy of letting me think that you’re not looking at a computer screen right now with a red dot pinging my exact location. Or even better, have some satellite training its eagle eye on me and reading my heat signature.”

“Mmm,” was all he said.

Her eyes widened, and she pulled the phone from her ear to look at the screen. “Oh my God. I was joking, but you’re pinging me, aren’t you?”

He said nothing.

“Shit.” She put the phone back up to her ear, huddling in on herself. “You’re seriously not using an actual fucking satellite. Are you?” she whisper-squeaked.

She heard a click on the other side of the phone, like he’d tapped a keyboard. When he spoke, his voice sounded to her as if it had dropped slightly in octave. “You’re looking awfully red, Serrano. But I’m betting shades of red look good on you.” He clicked off before she could even say goodbye.

Oh. Fuck. Me.

Three hours later, Kai was striding from the front offices back to her trailer at Studio Lot 4, mumbling about pencil-pushing, pencil-jockey, pencil-dick, money-grubbers when her cell phone rang. This time, the ringtone was dogs barking. She stopped in her tracks, dead center in the middle of the roadway, nearly getting taken out by a golf cart as she took a deep breath and swiped the answer icon. “Hello, Gerald. Sorry! My visitor is here, isn’t he?”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Serrano. There’s a man here who says his name is Waters. Just calling ya to confirm he’s expected.”

Kai smiled. “Yes, Gerald, I can vouch for him. I’ll come to collect my guest.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

She could feel her body heating up and resisted the urge to duck into the nearest ladies’ room to check her appearance. Not normally a vain woman, somehow Waters seemed to bring out some sort of primitive female insecurity within her that worried if she was presentable. She gave an unnecessary tug to her blue chambray tunic so that it smoothed out under her wide-waisted western-style belt, then snorted at her behavior.

Who cares if I’m presentable? He’s here to set up a job. I’ll probably never see him after today. Which, while disappointing from my libido’s perspective, is probably for the best from a timing perspective.

Resigning herself to a smidgen of disappointment, she neared the west gate. He was standing in the middle of the driveway just outside the center bars in the open sun. Immediately, the disappointment teetered on the edge of despair.

Can’t we play with him just a little bit? He’s so yummy.

Nope. No, we can’t. Work to do.

The gates pulled open, revealing him without obstruction. His arms were crossed over his chest, his legs spread shoulder-width apart. Wearing a tight dark-red T-shirt, another pair of tan cargos, and hiker-style boots, he screamed former military even without the uniform. Mirrored aviators covered his eyes, but the same as yesterday, his expression was blank. Despite that, his presence was not going unnoticed. It was safe to say that every pretty young thing’s head—both female and several male—swiveled in his direction, and curiosity was rampant.

However, Kai did allow herself a dose of possessive glee. He was here to see her. While it might be strictly business, no one else necessarily knew that. And her insides could riot away with all the erotic fantasies it wanted as long as she kept it cool on the outside.

Kai grabbed a visitor’s badge out of the guard shack and then walked toward Waters, who also took several steps in her direction. They met face-to-face, staring at each other for a few moments. She saw herself mirrored in his glasses as she handed over the badge, which he promptly clipped to his belt loop. “Red looks good on you as well.”

“Mmm.” His expression didn’t change.

Attempting to gloss over the uncomfortable attempt at a joke, she offered an abrupt, non sequitur apology with a shy grin. “Sorry about our overprotective guard dog. I was planning to tell them about the visitor coming, and then the executive producer was screaming about my ‘exorbitant spending habits.’ Next thing I knew, the dogs were barking, and you were here. Gerald treats his gate as if it were Area 51.”

“Dogs barking?”

She laughed sheepishly. “Ringtone on my phone.”

“Ah.” He nodded in understanding. “Dogs. Guards. Got it.”

Despite the heat, he appeared unaffected by standing out in the sun. Not a drop of sweat broke his brow. “This way.” She gestured and began walking toward her trailer.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed slight turns of his head as he took in all the chaos. Golf carts whizzed by with harassed-looking drivers, even more harassed assistants, and actors or suits busy on their cell phones.

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