Page 86 of Baxter's Right-Hand Man

Change was coming. The kind of change I usually loved. The hum in the air before filming started was electric. I’d beenwaitingfor my phone to ring…waiting for a purpose. And acting was my purpose. I loved long days on set, I loved traveling, I loved the fans, and the chaos. I fucking loved my job.

But I liked being here with Lorenzo too. I liked it a lot.

I couldn’t hide in Carmel forever, though, and my cell had been vibrating for forty-eight hours straight. I had multiple messages from Janet, a couple from Seb’s secretary, and one from Kate Bernard, my new female costar who thought it would be nice for us to “get to know each other.” Not happening.

I pulled my cell out and squinted at the caller ID.

“Seb,” I answered impatiently.

“He fucking lives! Jesus, Trish has been trying to get a hold of you for days, asshole,” he griped.

“I’m out of town.”

“So I heard. And so far, you’re staying out of the news,” he snarked. “Good for you.”

“Yeah.” I glanced toward the house, then leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “What’s up, Seb?”

“Get ready to pack again. We’re filming in Toronto in ten days.”

I frowned. “Ten days? That’s—already?”

He snorted. “Not the reaction I expected. I thought you’d be happy to drop the Boy Scout act and get to work.”

“I am, but we were scheduled for the end of May.”

“Permits are in, crew is ready, you’re ready. We’re starting with those cliff shots we talked about. We’ll get those out of the way before the rest of the cast joins us. With any luck, we’ll stay ahead of schedule on this one. Pacing is everything here. The cartoon series will be debuting in the fall, and we need to promote the fuck out of that this summer. So, what I’m saying is…enjoy your mini break. It’s gonna be a wild year.”

“Oh.” I stared at my feet, unseeing. “Okay…um, is the schedule posted or—”

Seb sighed impatiently. “Trish emailed you the itinerary, but you didn’t respond, so she called Janet, who said not to worry ’cause you were in Carmel.”

“Right.”

“With your new assistant,” he added.

Damn it, Janet.

“Lorenzo.”

I could practically hear Seb running through PR risk factors in his head. He couldn’t help it. He was a master at snuffing potential hazards before they blew up.

“Have fun. Reminder…you’re allegedly seeing Daphne, so if you’re messing with my promo zinger, let me know, please. Oh, and do me a favor and read your fucking email so you know what the hell is going on.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh. And Trent says hi and have fun.”

I huffed a half laugh. “I like him better than I like you.”

“Everyone does,” he deadpanned.

“Later, Seb.”

I shoved my cell into my jacket pocket and blew on my hands for warmth.

Fuck.

I wasn’t ready for good-bye.