Page 83 of Beneath the Blindfold

“That’s sweet, but just so you know, if you’d told me you hadn’t seen the movie?That’swhat would have made things weird.” She grinned. “You played a big part in me taking the role. I mean, I can’t tell you how glad I am you messaged me that day.”

“Me too.” It came from me instantly, and a spark ignited in my center. She softened in the seat, subtly leaning toward me. That was a good sign, right? Fuck, it had to be.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Of course.”

Mischief lit her eyes. “I heard a rumor about you in school.”

“Yeah?” I chuckled. “Which one?”

“You got caught doing eighty on Salem Drive, but the female cop let you off with a warning.”

“Was that before or after I had sex with her on the hood?”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh my God, did you?”

“There were, like, five different versions of the story going around. In some of them I was going a hundred, which isn’t even possible. Salem has too many curves.”

Anna, the girl who’d braved putting everything on-screen, for some reason seemed bashful to ask. “And the sex with the cop?”

“Also, not possible. An engine gets hot when it’s going eighty—way too hot to put somebody on the hood.”

The blue in her eyes darkened, which was another good sign.

I quirked my lips into a smile. “I don’t think Officer Greer would have taken me up on the offer, anyway. He’s married to my mom’s friend.” The Greers had basically been part of the family since before I was born. “The truth is I was only going sixty-five, and rather than give me a ticket, Officer Greer did something way worse. He called my dad.” Who’d spent forty-five minutes at the dinner table that night putting the fear of God in me. “I wasn’t allowed to drive anywhere but to school and back for the next month. Remember Jenny Hayes? She drove by while I was pulled over. I guess it started with her, but I dunno how the rumor got so big.”

Anna’s lips rounded into an ‘oh.’ “Yeah, I remember Pathological Liar Jenny. At least seventy-five percent of the stuff she said was made up.”

“You mean she isn’t cousins with Justin Timberlake? She told me that once.”

Anna snorted. “Right, I’m sure she is.”

The conversation shifted to the upcoming week. Sato had given the itinerary to Anna, but she’d barely been able to look at it between reading scripts and the wardrobe fittings for her next role. She seemed so excited about our plans, and I couldn’t wait until we touched down on Kauai. Then, all it would be was a thirty-minute car ride and we’d be at the private villa Anna’s assistant had helped me pick out.

The landing was smooth, and as soon as the seatbelt light was off, I was out of my seat, pulling down Anna’s bag from the overhead.

“Hey,” a male voice called to me. “Are you who I think you are?”

I slowed as I lowered the bag to the floor. Outside of racing, I didn’t get recognized much, but it did occasionally happen. I turned to the passenger standing in the aisle behind me. He looked to be in his sixties, and the vacation had clearly started. He already had on the standard-issued Hawaiian shirt.

“Maybe,” I said, giving him an easy smile.

“You drive the sixty-five car.”

“Sure do. Jamie Campbell.” After I pulled up the handle on Anna’s bag, I offered my hand to the guy.

He took it and shook furiously, excited. “Mark Freeman. My wife and me, we’re from Phoenix. We were there when you won the Cam-Am 500.”

The wife ducked her head around her husband. “We were hoping Scott Kempen was going to win.”

The guy hadn’t let go of me, and his grip intensified while his face filled with embarrassment. “Karen,” he uttered under his breath.

She shrugged. NASCAR fans—God didn’t make a more loyal creature.

The driver she’d been rooting for was an asshole who could suck my dick, but I plastered on a smile. “Well, he made it a good race.”

Anna stood from her seat and glanced at the couple, a thrilled smile curving on her lips. Was she getting a kick out of seeing me with a fan? Didn’t seem like he was aware he was still shaking my hand.

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