Page 44 of Enemies Off Camera
It’s only when I start to drop my jaw in response to her dramatic exit that I realize I’m smiling. I don’t think she liked how much Jaxon’s little note made me grin. And there was nothing to be jealous of. Had she stuck around a moment longer, I might’ve even read it to her. Not that she would’ve understood.
Oh well.
I pop a chocolate in my mouth and head to order lunch.
Oddly, and thankfully, my appetite’s back—and I’m starving.
THIRTY-THREE
Nearly an hour later, I’ve unpacked my clothes, put away the bare essentials, and decided to leave my tea kettle tucked safely in my luggage. Once everything found its rightful place, the concierge sent an attendant to collect my suitcases and garment bags for storage—even though there’s more than enough space in the gigantic walk-in closet, which is honestly a room unto itself. Still, I let them take the bags. If they stay in sight, Jaxon might drive me so crazy I’ll be tempted to pack up and make a run for it.
But the truth is, this is overwhelming.
Never in a million years did I imagine living with this kind of convenience. As a B+ actress—just the right project away from tipping into the A-list—Icouldafford a lifestyle like this… if I were willing to waste money. But since it’s notmymoney I’d be wasting, I give myself permission to indulge in the perks. I order a chicken club sandwich with a garden-fresh salad. I’m starving.
Still, before my food arrives, I check out the kitchen. It’s the one room I know I’ll need to learn inside and out.
I open the massive stainless steel Sub-Zero fridge and gasp—it’s spotless, fully stocked, and meticulously organized. Items are arranged by type and stored in labeled glass containers. Each one has its nutritional info printed on top. Wow. Jaxon might actually be a little anal-retentive.
Next, I investigate the barista setup. It’s a beauty. Once upon a time, when I first moved to L.A., I worked at one of those coffee shops where every other barista is hoping to get discovered. I was good at it. Actually, I loved that job. So naturally, I get to work.
I brew a fresh shot of espresso, steam the milk, find a porcelain cup in the cabinet, and make myself the cutest little cappuccino—complete with a perfect foam heart on top.
“Mmm,” I hum, rolling my eyes back with delight.
The girl’s still got it.
I take a deep breath and try to reset, grounding myself in this foreign yet oddly welcoming space. I still can’t believe I’m here. But maybe, if I stay focused on work and ignore everything else, I can survive being in Jaxon’s personal world. For now, I’ll tolerate being outside my comfort zone—because Thursday’s game is coming fast, and I’ve got a lot to do before then.
I finish my cappuccino in a few quick sips, grab a bottle of artisanal water from the fridge, and then—ding-dong.
The doorbell rings.
“Room service!” a voice calls out through a speaker system.
Wow. Again… the perks.
Today’s task?Learn football.
After devouring lunch, I set myself up in the living room—because the screen is so massive it practically watches me back. I find the remote magnetically docked to the side of the screen and hit thePowerbutton.
The TV chimes to life. Smart, of course. Thankfully, Jaxon subscribes to a million sports channels. I pick one dedicated to football.
Soon, I’m watching men in uniform huddled together—or wait, maybe that’s not a huddle. They’re more like... lined up? One side facing the other like dueling soldiers. And then—bam. They crash into each other like human car accidents. The collision is so loud I wince.
“Damn,” I mutter.
From the stands, it didn’t seem so brutal. But up close, like this? I’m shocked this is legal.
I lean back against the couch, torn between fascination and secondhand pain. The action halts. The screen says2nd & 8, whatever that means.
The commentators are no help—talking fast and furious, tossing around terms like “blitz,” “snap count,” and “nickel defense” as if everyone already has a PhD in football.
More clashing. More shouting. Someone throws the ball, another guy catches it—and...
“Yikes!” I yelp.
The poor guy getsslammedto the ground. That was aggressive. Vicious even.
