Page 94 of Between Never and Forever
When my trailer comes into view, I can see Red standing outside the door, arms crossed and Ziggy at his feet. His sunglasses are on, and he’s as still as a statue. Very intimidating.
“Does he talk?” Dakota asks.
“Sometimes,” I say wryly. “Usually, it’s to tell me off for doing something dumb.”
She hums, and I notice the golf cart slows down, but she doesn’t take her eyes off Red.
“How old is he, exactly?”
I side-eye her. “Why?”
She shrugs with a smirk. “Got a personal policy not to sleep with anyone my dad’s age or older.”
“How old’s your dad?” I ask with a laugh.
“Fifty-two.”
“You’re in the clear.” My voice is lowered to a whisper as we pull up to the trailer, but then I raise it when I address Red. “Hey Red, how old are you?”
I see one dark eyebrow rise up behind his mirrored sunglasses.
“You know how old I am,” he deadpans.
“Humor me.”
“Forty-five.”
I smile, darting my eyes from Red to Dakota and back. “Thanks.”
I slide out of the passenger seat and Dakota tells me she’ll be back in exactly one hour and fifty-three minutes before zooming off on her golf cart to do whatever it is that she does when she’s not chauffeuring me around. I bend down and give Ziggs some love as she does her little excited body wag, then head into my new trailer.
There’s a plastic tray on the counter that Red tells me was delivered a few minutes before I arrived, and I pop it open to find some delicious looking club sandwiches, chips, and more fruit. I throw myself down onto one of the barstools, snag half a sandwich, and take a bite.
“How were your first six hours of being an actress?” Red asks as I slide him the tray to grab his own sandwich.
“Fine,” I say as I chew. I think it over and swallow before adding, “Dakota says people don’t think I suck.”
Red grunts and nods. It’s about as much of a compliment as I’m used to from him.
I open my mouth to ask him if he wants to run lines with me, even though I have them memorized to the point of saying them in my dreams, when there’s a knock at my door. Red turns and opens it, then uses his deep, intimidating voice to greet the visitor.
“Can I help you?” he grunts out, and I stifle a laugh.
I expect to hear Dakota’s voice, or maybe Tatum or Pax, since I was told they’d want to touch up my hair and makeup before we start filming again, but instead, I’m shocked mid-chew by a new but familiar voice.
Brynnlee’s voice.
“Hello, sir. I’d like to speak with Sav Loveless, please.”
My lips twitch with amusement at just howgrownshe sounds. Like a little thirty-year-old woman in a seven-(and three-quarters)-year-old’s body. I can’t see her, but I can picture her. I bet she’s standing just as tall and fearless as ever.
“What do you need with Ms. Loveless?” Red booms, and I giggle into my sandwich.
His posture is just as rigid as it always is, and I bet there’s not even a hint of a smile on his lips, but I can hear the humor in his voice.
“I would like to ask her to autograph my magazine,” Brynn states. “I brought a pen with me this time.”
Shit, that’s right. The magazine.
