Hot SEAL in Hollywood

by Cat Johnson

Then Jamey was stretched out on the beach as the SEAL medic delivered his two lines, “Look at me! Do not close your eyes, sailor.”

  Jamey did just that—closed his eyes and the scene ended.

  “Wow. That was powerful,” one host said.

  “And you filmed with actual Navy SEALs as extras. What was that like?” the other host asked.

  “It was amazing. Those guys,” Jamey shook his head. “Let me tell you, I’ve never met such hard working, focused men in my life. And they are in amazing shape physically. We ran onto that beach dozens of times to get that one scene right. I was ready to drop right there and die every time the director called for another take, but they were all still laughing and joking. They’d just trot back out to the boat and do it all over again.”

  “Well I think we’re all going to look forward to seeing what else you and the SEALs did when the movie opens next Friday night. Sierra, Jamey, thank you for coming to speak with us.”

  That was it. Rick got a glimpse of Sierra hugging the co-hosts and then there was another commercial filling the screen.

  He drew in a breath. Okay, he’d survived that and now that it was over he could move on.

  His cell phone was on the table where he’d tossed it when he’d crawled out of his room and threw himself on the sofa at dawn. He didn’t know the number but he did recognize the area code. It was a Los Angeles number.

  Was it Sierra calling from a different phone?

  He dove for the cell and swiped the screen to answer the call. “Hello?”

  “Rick, it’s Jamey.”

  Not admitting the disappointment he felt, even to himself, Rick said, “Hey.”

  “Dude, did you see us on The Morning Show just now? I hope you saw it.”

  “Yeah, I saw it.”

  “That scene was pretty kick ass, right?”

  He didn’t need to ask which scene. He knew Jamey was all about the action—and not the action in bed with Sierra. “Yeah, it was pretty kick ass.”

  “So, I’ve been reading some scripts, looking for my next project and there are a couple of good ones. At least I think they’re good.”

  “Okay.” Where was this going? Rick had no clue.

  Maybe Jamey just missed having a guy to talk to.

  “Would you maybe take a look at the scripts for my top two choices and let me know what you think?”

  “Me?” Rick asked. “I don’t know anything about movie scripts.”

  “You know about the military though. These are both war movies.”

  Ah, things were beginning to become clear now.

  The last thing he wanted to do was be involved in the movie business. It would only remind him of Sierra. But Jamey was a good kid, and it wasn’t as if Rick had anything better going on at the moment.

  “All right. Sure. Send them to me.”

  “Oh my God. That would be so great. Thanks.”

  Rick couldn’t help but smile at Jamey’s enthusiasm. “No problem.”

  There was dead air for a few second before Jamey said, “There’s something else I wanted to ask you.”

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  “If either of these projects work out, would you consider letting me hire you? You know, to consult on the military stuff. Train me to get me into shape. Teach me about the weapons and maybe how to fight. It would probably only be three or four months you’d have to be in California and I’d pay you.”

  The dead last place Rick wanted to be right now was Hollywood. The place was packed full of memories and with memories came pain.

  “Would a hundred-thousand dollar consulting fee be enough?” Jamey asked. “I can give you more if you need. And I can rent you a place to stay while you’re out there. Or you could stay with me at my place if you want.”

  Rick’s eyes widened. This kid was the worst negotiator on earth, but a lot of things had come to light during this short conversation and that job offer.

  First, there was no way Sierra and Jamey were together if the kid was inviting him to live with him. Second, earning a hundred thousand dollars just to tutor Jamey for a few months on how to not look like a civilian was insane.

  “Um, can I think about it and get back to you?” Rick certainly had a lot to think about.

  Judging by the speed with which Sierra had booked him a flight out, she didn’t want him there in California. But who was to say she’d even be there? She could be in Miami or on location anywhere in the world.

  He shouldn’t turn down a good opportunity just on the off chance she might be there. And he really had enjoyed planning and shooting those scenes. He was good at it too—

  “Oh, yeah. Sure. Of course,” Jamey said, interrupting Rick’s internal debate. “I mean I know you’re probably busy. I just thought I’d ask and hope you’d consider it.”

  “I’ll definitely consider it. Give me twenty-four hours. I’ll call you with an answer. Thanks for thinking of me.”

  “Of course. So I, uh, will wait to hear from you then.”

  “Yup. Bye.” He disconnected the call and glanced up at his sister in the kitchen.

  Darci had been joined by Chris, fresh from the shower judging by his wet hair.

  Rick stood and walked to the kitchen island. Tossing his cell onto the countertop he said, “You’re not going to believe what that was about.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Sierra adjusted her sunglasses as she slipped out of the back of the town car dropping her off in front of the hotel.

  Today she’d get to sit in a room at the Beverly Hilton for eight hours while dozens of reporters funneled in one at a time and asked her the same questions over and over and over again. And she’d smile and answer every one of them as if she hadn’t already done it twelve times already that day.

  It was hellish but she’d get through it because finally she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. And Jamey would be there, enduring the hell with her, so that would help.

  She just had to get through one more day and then she’d be done with her obligations for the movie that seemed to never end . . . unless it got award nominations.

  Crap. If that happened then there’d be all the ceremonies to attend and countless more interviews.

  It wasn’t lost on her that at any other time in her life she’d be thrilled to think her movie could be up for awards.

  How had things gotten turned so upside down? The little voice inside her whispered the answer to that question.

  Rick.

  She was so insane lately that she even imagined she saw him around town. Like right now, the guy across the street looked like him, walked like him.

  Even sounded like him. It had been his laugh that had her looking up to begin with.

  Wait . . . She narrowed her eyes and stared at the guy waiting on the other side of the street for the light to change.

  It sure looked like him, but no. It couldn’t be. Could it? He was in Virginia, wasn’t he?

  The Rick-lookalike belted out a deep belly laugh as the guy standing next to him said something. Then the light changed and the two started to cross the road.

  They made it almost all the way across when the guy looked directly at her and stumbled to a halt. He stopped dead in the middle of the lane for a solid few seconds before he came to his senses and finished crossing the street.

  On the curb, he said something to his friend and then turned to face where she stood.

  There was no mistaking now. From this close up she was sure. It was Rick.

  She remained right where she was, glued to the spot as he walked toward her.

  “Hey,” he said.

  The sound of his voice cut right through her, making her want to sink to her knees as her shaky legs felt too weak to support her.

  “Hi.” Sierra noticed how breathy her voice sounded. “You look good.”

  “Do I?” He laughed.

  “I didn’t know you were back. What are you doing here?”

  He snorted. “Don’t worry. I’m not stalking you
.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t think you were.”

  “I got offered a job out here,” Rick continued, a lot colder than she imagined he’d be during all the times she’d considered how things would go if she should ever see him again.

  She wanted to ask him where he was working and what he was doing but he’d glanced over his shoulder at the guy still standing just a few feet away waiting for him.

  “Um, so I should go. It was good seeing you.”

  “You too.”

  For a second their gazes locked before, lips pressed tightly, he nodded and turned away from her to go and rejoin his friend.

  When had Rick gotten friends in Hollywood? More, when had he gotten a job here?

  None of that really mattered when there were so many other questions.

  Why hadn’t he hugged and kissed her hello? Asked if they could get together for a drink and to talk. Told her he still loved her and wanted them to be together again.

  She feared she knew why. He’d gotten over her. Moved on.

  Since this whole break up had been her idea, why hadn’t she done the same?

  Because she still loved him. Because breaking up had been a stupid misguided mistake.

  And now it was too late.

  On the verge of tears was not the place to be right now. She had to get to the makeup chair and then get her smiling self up to room eight-twelve and pretend she was happy to be there.

  God, today was going to suck.

  CHAPTER 21

  Rick walked into the dimly lit restaurant and headed directly for the bar. He ignored Jamey already seated there and instead said to the bartender, “Bourbon, straight up. Make it a double.”

  Jamey’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

  “Sierra Cox,” Glen answered for Rick, and thank God for that because Rick wasn’t sure he had it in him to explain at the moment.

  Since Glen was the writer who was going to be reworking the script for the new movie Jamey had signed on to, he should have plenty of words at his disposal.

  Right now, Rick didn’t seem to have any.

  “Damn. Sorry, man. But I guess it was bound to happen eventually. Hollywood’s too small a town for you to have avoided her forever.”

  Rick spun to Jamey. “No, it’s really not. Between residents and workers and tourists, it’s a big fucking city.”

  Glen shook his head. “It might be a big city, but it’s a small town when you’re in our business.”

  Rick turned back and glanced down the bar. What was taking the bartender so long to pour a damn glass of bourbon?

  Finally, he made his way from the other end and set the glass in front of Rick.

  “Put that on my tab,” Jamey said and then added, “and back him up with another one. Hell, make that three. One for each of us.”

  Rick let out a short laugh. It seemed Sierra Cox had the ability to drive everyone to drink.

  “So what happened? What did she say?” Jamey asked.

  “She wanted to know what I was doing here.” Rick took a swallow and savored the burn.

  Jamey frowned. “Damn. She wasn’t a bitch to you, was she? That doesn’t seem like her.”

  Dumping him out of the blue hadn’t seemed like her either . . .

  “She wasn’t a bitch but she also didn’t throw her arms around me and tell me she loves me either so . . .” Rick lifted a shoulder and reached for his glass again.

  When he glanced back he saw Jamey watching him.

  “What?” Rick asked.

  “I’m just wondering if you two just need to, you know, talk it out.”

  Rick let out a snort. “Nothing to talk about.”

  She’d dumped him in no uncertain terms. Booked him a flight and never bothered to call or text. Hell, they’d probably never have spoken again if he didn’t happen to be crossing the street at the same time she was standing there.

  “All right. If you say so. Anyway. Can I run over today’s schedule with you?” Jamey asked.

  Rick nodded. “Sure, shoot.” Maybe work would distract him.

  “From noon to eight p.m. I have those interviews at the Beverly Hilton.”

  Rick glanced at the time on his cell phone. “That’s in an hour. You sure you should be drinking?”

  Jamey blew out a breath. “Eight hours of what amounts to reporter speed-dating? Yeah, I’m gonna need more than one drink to get through that. But I figured you and Glen can work on the script together while I’m busy.”

  “Sure.” Rick lifted a shoulder. “Whatever you want. I’m at your disposal.”

  For a hundred grand for twelve weeks work, plus living expenses, he could be accommodating.

  “I’m glad you said that. I have a meal break midway through. You think you could maybe meet me at the Hilton and just catch me up on what you two have been working on?”

  “Okay.”

  “So say three o’clock? Room eight-twelve.”

  “But—” Glen began to say something.

  Jamey’s gaze cut to him. “Dude, I know you won’t have a whole lot done by then, and it’ll be rough, but I’d really like to see the two of you during my break. So three p.m. in room eight-twelve. Okay?”

  Glen glanced from Jamey to Rick and back again. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  Jamey nodded. “I think that’s exactly what we need to do. A little meeting just to see how things stand.”

  Apparently Rick’s new boss was real keen on having progress meetings. That was fine. He’d had worse bosses and done harder things for far less money. Bring it on.

  Rick reached for his glass and took another sip. Piece of cake.

  CHAPTER 22

  Time flies when you’re having fun and though Rick would have never considered sitting in front of a stack of papers fun in the past, it had been today.

  In the back booth of the restaurant with a mostly eaten burger on the table and the remains of a couple of bourbons, Rick leaned back and surveyed what they’d accomplished.

  He glanced up at Glen. “So I need you to tell me because I don’t know. Are we doing good here?”

  Glen’s eyes widened behind his wire framed glasses. “We’re doing great.”

  “Really?” Rick asked.

  He straightened the stack of pages he’d pulled out of the binder by tapping them on end against the table. When the papers weren’t strewn all over, it didn’t seem like a whole lot. They still had so much more to go.

  “Trust me. We’re kicking ass on this.”

  “Okay. If you say so.” Rick glanced at his cell. “It’s fourteen-forty-five. We’d better head over to the hotel.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Glen shoved his glasses up his nose and got busy putting things into his big leather bag. Suddenly in a rush, he stood. “Ready to go?”

  Rick frowned. “Do you need to sign something here?”

  “Shit. Yeah. Let me just go close out Jamey’s tab. Be right back.” He turned to go then looked back. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  “I’m not moving a muscle.” Rick laughed.

  This guy sure was nervous.

  Though he supposed if it were his words he’d be showing to his boss, he might be too. Luckily he was just a consultant, not a writer.

  “Okay. Ready. Let’s go.” After a glance back, Glen power-walked out the door and across the street.

  Rick followed, taking one long stride to every two of Glen’s shorter ones as he wondered what he was so nervous about since they had plenty of time to get across the street to the hotel.

  The man must have been really nervous about what Jamey would think of the work they’d done. He didn’t say a word on the walk over, or in the elevator ride up.

  In fact, it wasn’t until they stood in front of the room door that Rick finally decided he needed to break the silence.

  He laid one hand on Glen’s shoulder. He jumped beneath Rick’s touch.

  “Dude. Relax. If he doesn’t like what we did, we’ll do it over. No big deal.”

/>   Pale, Glen stared wide-eyed at Rick. Finally, he said, “Okay.” Then he knocked on the door and took one big step backward.

  Hollywood people were strange.

  Frowning, Rick glanced back at him and then turned and waited for the door to open. It took a while but finally the door swung wide and Jamey stood there.

  “Good. You’re here,” Jamey said.

  “Yup.” Rick hooked a thumb back at Glen. “We’ve got some pages to show you but it’s all just preliminary.”

  “That’s fine. Come on in.” Jamey backed up and motioned for Rick to come inside. “Why don’t you go on into the other room and I’ll meet you in there.”

  “Why are you whispering?” Rick said, keeping his own voice down too.

  “There’s, um, uh, interviews happening in the room next door. Microphones are sensitive.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Rick nodded and tried to walk more softly than usual as he made his way past the sofa and table to the door of the other room in the suite.

  Opening it, he found the room empty of people but not of stuff.

  They’d obviously used this portion of the suite as a staging area. Make-up, bags, clothes, snacks and drinks littered every flat surface.

  It would be easier to work on the script out in the other room on the table.

  Rick couldn’t figure out why Jamey had suggested he come in here. Then the bathroom door swung open and Rick knew exactly why he was in this room.

  “Sierra.” He shouldn’t be surprised.

  Now all the strangeness between Jamey and Glen made sense.

  “Rick.” Her mouth dropped open. “What are you doing here?”

  He shook his head. “Getting tricked, I believe.”

  “I’m sorry, but you two need to talk.” Jamey’s voice came through the door.

  Drawing in a breath, Rick turned toward the door and tried to open it. Something was preventing him from turning the knob. “Are you holding the doorknob?”

  “Yes,” Jamey said.

  Rick lifted a brow. “You do know I can get this door open if I really want to, right?”

  “Yes. And you can also kill me with your bare hands. But I’m betting that you won’t do either.”