I jump when a loud banging sounds from behind me. We both turn toward the door I just came through. Randle walks over to answer it.
“I said I wasn’t to be disrupted,” he bites out as he pulls it open.
My eyes widen as I see the massive man standing on the other side of the door in a suit. He has to be the biggest man I’ve ever seen in person. I have no idea who he is, but all the fear and anxiety that was rising inside of me seconds ago washes away when his eyes lock on me right over Randle’s head. My breath catches.
This man isn’t classically handsome. His face is all hard lines like it’s been carved out of stone. His nose has a bump in it, I’m guessing from being broken before. Maybe a few times, actually. I’m not sure what it is about him, but I find him all kinds of attractive.
“I’m not here for you,” he says dismissively to Randle. “I’m here for her.”
“Me?” My voice squeaks. Yeah, I’m never pulling off sexy.
“She’s in a closed reading right now. You’ll need to wait downstairs in the hotel lobby. I take it you’re her bodyguard,” Randle says. He tries to be dismissive right back to the man, but it’s not going to work. It’s almost laughable that he thinks it would.
“No can do. I’ll be waiting wherever she is. If she orders me down to the lobby, then that’s where your reading will be taking place.”
He just went from attractive to oh my freaking God.
Chapter Two
Sawyer
“Maybe you don’t know who I am.” Randle Beckstrand puffs his chest and pulls himself up to his great height of five ten.
“Sure do. Randle Beckstrand. Two-time Oscar nominee and one-time Oscar winner for the movie Computation. You have the twenty-fourth highest box office gross of any director, averaging $85 million per film. However, it’s been seven years since your last hit. This current film you’re reading for has a $100 million budget, and the press says it might be your last chance before investors write you off and move on to the next hot director.”
I fold my arms across my chest and wait for his response. It takes a while. Both he and Sadie are stunned into silence.
“It’s $90 million. I average at least $100 million,” he finally says, but his chest has deflated like a popped balloon.
“I must’ve misread,” I lie. “Go ahead and do your reading.”
“We can’t do it while you’re here,” he whines, but he knows he’s defeated.
“Why? I’ve been on sets before. There are at least fifty people involved in filming a scene, even the sex ones, so just pretend I’m one of the lighting crew.”
Randle throws out a few more arguments, but my ears are closed. I tune him out and watch Sadie. I haven’t been on a lot of sets because celebrity work is my least favorite, and as the owner and head of Locke Security, I get to pick and choose what people I want to work with. On the whole, celebrities are spoiled babies who want to constantly be in the public eye while simultaneously complaining about the lack of privacy. One of our clients says he has a stalker but will call the paparazzi and leak restaurant and shopping excursions so he can stay in the tabloids. He and his pay-for-play girlfriend have stylists who plan their workout gear so that even their gym shots aren’t candid. It’s a world I don’t enjoy, but when Sadie’s assignment came across my desk, I had to work it.
“She’s a nice girl,” Benson had said in his call to me. “She’s not a regular celeb, and she’s really fucking scared. Be a pal and take this one on for me.”
“You still owe me for the off-the-books work I did to keep your judge safe,” I reminded him.
“Yeah. I know. Put this in the ledger in the credit column. Thanks, man, and I’ll buy you a beer next time.”
“At this point, it’s going to be a whole case.”
I’ve always been drawn to her, like millions of others, but the photo that accompanied the request showed her with a pain in her eyes that made me want to smash everything in my vicinity. I don’t know if it’s real pain. She’s a boss actress, so it could be made up, but it was enough to get me here to this hotel.
“Fine.” Randle tosses the script to Sadie. “Start reading. Maybe you’re not even the right person for this part.”
I open my mouth to tell him to straighten out his attitude, but Sadie holds up a finger. “Let’s do this.”
She must want the part. I settle my shoulders against the door and watch as she transforms herself. It’s astonishing. One minute she’s a quiet mouse, and the next minute she’s a siren. What had one of the broadsheets said about her? That she was a candle which time and experience had fanned into a flame and that the public hoped to see her burn eternally.