Craig started to walk away but heard Kevin ask, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just a rough morning,” Damian said.
Craig looked behind him to see Damian stand and prepare to follow him. Craig was only a few steps out of the mess hall when Damian caught up.
“Hey, man. I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to say anything in front of Kevin.” Damian fell into step with him. “Did Sienna say anything about what she was doing with Pratt?”
“She doesn’t owe me an explanation. We only hung out a few times.”
Damian gave him a meaningful look. “You might have only hung out a few times, but she looked just as interested in you as you were in her.”
“I guess she was giving us an up-close look at her acting talent,” Craig said, fighting the bitter taste in his mouth. “Come on. Let’s get to work. I’m ready to think about something else for a while.”
20
It was torture, pure and simple. Five hours, confined in a small space with Adam. For all of his appeal on-screen, the man had the personality of a doorknob. To make matters worse, George had ended up in a seat several rows back. Since the flight had been full, Sienna hadn’t been given the option to switch seats.
If she didn’t love her publicist, she would seriously consider firing her over coordinating her flight with Adam’s and subjecting her to his mindless conversation.
Had she heard about Bethanie’s latest shopping spree to Milan? Like she cared. Had she noticed Angelina’s new tattoo? Did she think it would look bad if he bought another Mercedes? After all, he already owned two. Along with the Ferrari, the classic ’64 Corvette, and a Lexus SUV for when he wanted to blend in. She had listened to him talk about the cars and had somehow managed to ooh and aah over the photographs he had shown her of each and every one.
What would he be like if he ever got married and had children? Heaven help the poor soul who had to fly with him then!
She had tried to escape the constant chatter with sleep, but Adam hadn’t stopped, even when she’d forced herself to keep her eyes closed for twenty minutes straight.
Then and there she resolved to never travel with Adam again. She wondered if her publicist could spin a good breakup story for the media in which Sienna was forced to avoid Adam at all times except when they were working.
When their plane touched down, Sienna could have kissed the ground . . . and the elderly lady who managed to step between Adam and her as they were deplaning.
She knew the studio would send one car to pick both of them up from the airport. In anticipation of that ride, she put her earbuds in and turned on the music on her iPhone. She had tried the same ploy on the airplane, but he’d kept talking so loudly to get her attention she’d taken pity on their fellow travelers and given up. At this point, with her nerves frazzled, all bets were off.
As soon as they were up the Jetway and in the airport, Adam sidestepped the woman walking between them and came up beside Sienna again. George followed behind them, but he wouldn’t associate himself with them unless he detected a problem. Sienna expected Adam’s bodyguards would follow similar protocol, except they would use their own transportation to follow them back to the hotel.
As a defensive measure to keep Adam from more PDA, Sienna put her free hand in her jacket pocket and gripped the handle of her carry on bag with the other. When they exited past security, they found their chauffeur, a man around forty, holding a white card with their last names on it.
“Let me take that for you, Miss Blake,” her driver said, taking her suitcase from her.
“Thank you.” Now she shoved both hands into her pockets. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”
“I’m Ron.”
“It’s good to meet you.” Sienna walked alongside Ron, leaving Adam to bring up the rear.
After waiting twenty minutes for Adam’s checked luggage and introducing Ron to George, they finally got underway. With this limited opportunity to speak to him privately, she pressed the button to raise the window between the front and back seats of the limousine.
Once Ron and George could no longer hear them, Sienna shifted to face Adam. “Adam, I think we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Our breakup.”
“Breakup?” Adam repeated, clearly confused. “What breakup?”
“The one that’s about to happen.” Sienna sighed. “Look, you’re a great guy, but the truth is, I’m seeing someone else. He should be back in Virginia any day now, and I don’t want our fake relationship to cause problems for my reputation or yours.”
“But I thought . . .”
“You thought I would want to date you if you showed interest in me,” Sienna finished for him. “And that would help our movie sell and keep us in the press.”
“Well, yeah,” Adam admitted.
“I appreciate your honesty, but that doesn’t work for me. I’m sure we can find any number of ways to stay in the news when it’s time to promote our movie.” Sienna thought for a minute. “In fact, we can spin a story about how we both worked through our personal differences to deliver such a great product.”
“I guess that could work.”
“I appreciate your understanding. Craig isn’t in the business, and the last thing I need is for him to believe the hype.”
The partition window began to lower, and Sienna looked forward, surprised to see it going down.
“Hold on!” George shouted.
Sienna gripped the edge of the door and looked through the window. “What’s wrong?”
George didn’t answer, but Sienna felt the limo skid sideways. Then it did a complete 180. Cars wove and swerved to try to miss them.
Her heart was racing, and everything seemed to slow down, but that didn’t change the inevitable. They were going to crash. More tires squealed. Someone honked.
“No!” The word came out in a whisper, the only word she managed before the back of the car slammed into the barrier on the side of the highway.
The impact jarred her body, the seat belt jerking her back against the leather seat. Her head, shoulders, and back throbbed, but she couldn’t quite process the pain.
For several seconds, no one spoke. Then George managed to turn around to face her. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“Adam?”
He pressed his hand against his forehead as though pushing against some pain centered there. “Yeah, I’m okay. What happened?”
“There were a couple tires in the road. Ron did some fancy driving to keep us from hitting anything besides the guard rail.”
Someone knocked on the window, and Ron rolled it down. A concerned driver stood on the other side, a man in his twenties.
“Are you all okay?”
“I think so,” Ron said.
“I called 9-1-1. They should be here any minute.”
“Thanks.” George turned to Sienna. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Just sore.”
“We should probably have you taken to the hospital to get checked out.” George motioned to Adam. “You too.”
Still stunned, Sienna tried to visualize what would happen next. A trip to the hospital didn’t sound terribly appealing, regardless of how sore her back was. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
She watched as one car after another passed them, picking up speed as they did so. Seeing the cars reaching highway speeds, she sent up a prayer of gratitude that no one had been seriously hurt.
A policeman arrived first, followed immediately by an ambulance. One of the ambulance attendants opened the back door and started asking her simple questions to make sure she was still coherent. Realizing she was suffering only from stiffness, the attendant shifted his attention to Adam.
No longer distracted by the EMT, Sienna listened to the policeman questioning their driver.
“I don’t know where the other car came from. One minute we were driving al
ong with the flow of traffic, and the next, this big pickup truck jumps out in front of us, and a couple of large tires fly into the road right in our path.”
“Sounds like someone didn’t tie down their load.”
“I don’t think so,” George countered.
“What do you mean you don’t think so?” the officer asked.
“Someone was in the back of that pickup truck. The tires in our path weren’t an accident. They were deliberate.”
“Why would anyone do that?” Sienna asked, leaning forward.
“I have no idea, but I know what I saw.” George’s eyes met hers. “Makes me wonder if that accident on set last week was really an accident.”
“You think someone’s out to get one of us?”
“I don’t know, but like it or not, your security force is about to get bigger.” George gave her a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Sienna, but you know we have to.”
“Just do me a favor. If we have to bring on some more help, can you organize it through Grandpa instead of my dad? I don’t want to feel like I’m under a microscope again.”
“Fair enough,” George agreed. “But no arguing when I insist you go to the hospital to get checked out.”
“I will if you will.”
George pressed his lips together before muttering, “Fine.”
21
Craig wasn’t sure whether to thank Brent or beg for mercy. They’d spent all day Monday on the ocean. Swimming, boating, running on the beach. If any of the other squad members had planned to ask Craig about the situation with Sienna, they hadn’t had the chance with the rigorous training Brent had put them through.
With that in mind, Craig approached the weight room skeptically on Tuesday morning. As soon as he arrived where the rest of his squad had assembled for their morning PT, Brent said, “Craig, you’re with me.” Brent then motioned to Seth. “Seth has the training schedule for the rest of the day.”
“Where are you two off to?” Quinn asked.
“To do a favor for a friend.” Brent didn’t elaborate. Instead, he motioned for everyone to gather around so they could offer their morning prayer. As soon as the amens were said, Brent left the room, expecting Craig to follow.
Craig fell into step beside him, not sure why he had been singled out to come with the commander over everyone else. He wanted to ask where they were going, but after Brent evaded Quinn’s question, he opted for a different question and motioned to his BDUs. “Is it okay to be in uniform where we’re going?”
“I have a feeling we’ll blend in just fine.” Brent led the way to his car, and Craig got into the passenger seat. Brent put the car in gear. “Did you pay any attention to the news yesterday or today?”
“Not since yesterday morning,” Craig said. “I’ve been kind of avoiding it since then.”
“Late yesterday afternoon, there was a car accident on I-64. Someone threw a couple of semi retreads out of the back of a pickup truck and caused a car to crash.”
“That’s too bad . . . What does it have to do with us?”
“Directly, it doesn’t have anything to do with us.” Brent started toward the base exit. “Sienna Blake was in the car that crashed.”
Craig straightened in his seat. “Is she okay?”
“A little sore, but luckily she and everyone else in the car were wearing their seat belts.”
“Everyone else in the car,” Craig repeated. “I gather that included Adam Pratt.”
“It did. My brother-in-law asked me if we could look over the security on set. Apparently there was also an accident last week. Sienna and Adam narrowly missed being hit by some overhead lighting that came undone.”
Craig tried to push his personal feelings aside and concentrate on Sienna’s safety. “Do you think the two incidents are related?”
“I don’t know, but Sienna’s bodyguard is worried.”
“That’s understandable.”
“I know the situation with Adam must make things uncomfortable for you, but Sienna and George both know you, and I thought it would be easier for you to help me nose around than any of the others.” Brent turned toward the ocean. “We bring in a bunch of Navy SEALs onto a Hollywood set, we not only run the risk of garnering bad press, but we also could very well end up in a spotlight we’d best be avoiding.”
“It might be a little late for me on that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Apparently some of the photos of me and Sienna at her sister’s wedding leaked onto the Internet. One of my mom’s friends saw them.”
“Sorry about that, but we knew it might happen. As long as you don’t go around announcing you’re a SEAL, I don’t think anyone will take notice for long,” Brent said. “Even if they did, no one from the press is going to follow you around unless you want them to. You’re one of the best at concealment in the unit.”
“Really?”
“I saw your scores coming out of BUD/S,” Brent said. “That was one of the things that brought you to our attention.”
“I figured it was because I’m LDS.”
“That didn’t hurt either,” Brent said. “We like keeping the Mormon standards within our unit, but in our line of work, the mission comes first. Had your aptitude scores not been high enough, you would have gone somewhere else.”
Craig repeated Brent’s words in his mind and tried to focus on the reasons he had been assigned to the elite Saint Squad instead of focusing on Brent’s earlier comment about Adam being with Sienna at the time of the accident.
* * *
Sienna thought she must be crazy to be working today. The hospital had released her and the others who had been in the accident yesterday after making sure that, indeed, nothing had been broken.
Their director had decided to use the accident to their advantage, right down to their stiffness and bruises. Instead of following the schedule planned for today, he had altered the schedule to shoot several scenes that would come after a fictional car crash. Sienna now stood with Adam and Carter, waiting for the action to start.
“I didn’t think we had any scenes with extras today.” Adam motioned toward the barriers down the street.
“We don’t,” Carter responded. “Wait a minute. I’ve seen those guys before. Sienna, weren’t they at Kendra’s wedding?”
Sienna looked where they indicated, delighted to see Craig coming toward them. As he and Brent came closer, she realized Craig wasn’t nearly as happy to see her as she was to see him.
“Places!” Marcus demanded.
“Great,” Sienna mumbled under her breath.
“What?” Adam asked.
“It looks like Craig believed the stories from last weekend.”
“That’s Craig?” Adam asked. “He’s the guy you’re dumping me for?”
“He’s the guy who thinks I dumped him for you,” Sienna corrected.
“Well, that’s awkward.” Adam must have seen the crestfallen look on her face. “Relax. When we break, we can go explain the whole thing.”
“You’d do that?”
“Yeah. It’s no big deal.” Adam took his place at the edge of the sidewalk. “Like you said, we can spin the press in our favor when we announce our breakup.”
Sienna looked over at Craig again. “The sooner, the better.”
* * *
Craig tried to keep his attention on the security aspects of the current movie set, but every time he heard Sienna’s voice, he felt his attention being pulled. It was fascinating actually, watching each scene being shot multiple times from various angles until the director decided he had what he needed for the final product.
Two police cars were parked on either end of the street where the traffic was being diverted. The studio had been granted exclusive access to the three blocks they needed to shoot these particular scenes of the movie.
Additional barricades had been erected a block inland to keep cross traffic out of the area but still remain out of sight of the cameras. Security guards were posted at var
ious locations, and they appeared to have been successful thus far in keeping unauthorized personnel out of the area.
Brent appeared from one of the cross streets and moved to stand beside him. “What do you think?”
“Security is tight. The paparazzi seem to be everywhere, but they’re all behind the barricades so they don’t pose any real threat. I don’t see where anyone could get in, unless . . .”
“Unless they were already here before the barricades went up,” Brent finished for him.
“Exactly,” Craig agreed. “The good news is that the director switched up the schedule. The city had to scramble to change the shoot dates ahead a week.”
“Do you know how much longer they’re shooting on location?”
“From what Sienna told me when we were looking over her script, the studio rented one of those big beach houses to use for their main set. They also have a warehouse they’ll use for a second set and their green-screen shots, whatever that means.”
“Beats me.”
Craig noticed a flatbed tow truck pull up at one of the barricades. Security cleared the entrance, and the truck backed into the street, a classic Ford Mustang strapped to the back. The director called a break, and Craig looked over to see Sienna motioning toward him, Adam at her side.
He immediately shifted his attention back to the car. “What year do you think it is? Seventy-four?”
“That would be my guess,” Brent said as several crew members joined the driver to help unload the Mustang.
“Should we give them a hand?” Craig asked, all too aware that Sienna was now heading in his direction.
“You’re going to have to talk to her eventually,” Brent said with entirely too much understanding. “It’ll probably be easier on both of you if you get it over with now.”
“I think I’d prefer avoidance in this particular scenario.”
“Talk to her,” Brent insisted. “I’m going to talk to the director to see if I can get an updated schedule.”
“I thought my teammates were supposed to have my back, not throw me into the line of fire,” Craig complained.
“And sometimes you have to trust the experience of your commander to know what’s best for you.”
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