Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
The bitch wasn’t going to let it go.
Obi-Wan sighed. He’d hoped Carmen would’ve gotten the clue that he wasn’t interested in anything she had to offer.
And yet, the morning after the incident at Anchor Point, she’d greeted him on set as if she hadn’t been kicked out of the bar after her advances toward him were turned down flat. Hell, he’d told her their get-together was a private thing, and she’d totally ignored him.
Not only that, she seemed more determined than ever to “win” him. Which was a joke, because he wasn’t a fucking prize in one of those claw machines. She didn’t get to decide that he would be her next lay and expect to have him just materialize in her bed as if by magic.
The movie set that used to be an exciting change of pace for Obi-Wan was quickly turning into something he dreaded. And that sucked.
Of course, seeing Zita was a bright spot.
And honestly, he still enjoyed what he was doing.
Using his expertise to fine-tune the military wardrobe and lingo, and point out things that were just blatantly wrong regarding the helicopters.
Obi-Wan was impressed that Grubbner actually took what he said seriously.
It was nice to see the man was truly interested in making everything authentic.
The situation with Carmen was why he was looking forward to the next phase of the film.
In a week, the entire operation would be moving to the western side of the state to film the bulk of the scenes with Logan Striker.
It would take a full week for the transition itself.
For the entire production to relocate to the new location, and for the staff and crew to get everything ready for filming again.
Obi-Wan was thrilled…as Carmen wouldn’t be accompanying the production.
Her scenes in Virginia were almost complete, so she’d be returning to Hollywood.
But with the looming change in venue, it seemed Carmen was doubling down on her efforts to get him into bed. Everywhere Obi-Wan went, she was there. Sidling up to him, touching him, fucking petting him as if he were a dog she could bring to heel.
He was done trying to be subtle about not wanting anything to do with her. In the last few days, he’d told the actress more than once that he wasn’t interested and to please keep her hands to herself. Even flat-out insisting he wasn’t attracted to her. All to no avail.
To make matters worse, Zita had been keeping her distance from them both. She claimed it was to keep the peace on set. To avoid making any waves. And that irritated Obi-Wan most of all, because all he wanted was to talk to her, to be near her, to get to know her better.
It had been five days since their night at Anchor Point, and Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to talk to her long enough to plan the Star Wars date they’d discussed.
It wasn’t about the movies, although they were awesome, it was about his eagerness to spend more one-on-one time with the woman he couldn’t get out of his mind.
They had each other’s phone number and texted every night, but those conversations were brief and impersonal, and he hadn’t found an appropriate time to bring up when they could get together again.
For a man who preferred to be the pursuer, he was doing a piss-poor job of it.
He needed to get his head out of his ass and go after what he wanted—Zita.
This morning, he’d arrived on set only to be immediately accosted by Carmen yet again.
As if she’d been waiting for him—which she probably had.
He had his usual second cup of coffee for Zita, and he was determined to get it to her while it was still hot.
There were a couple of mornings this week when either he or she had been busy, and by the time they managed to have a second to speak, her coffee was lukewarm or even cold.
As usual, Carmen’s bodyguard was hovering not too far from her as she walked toward him with a huge smile on her face.
She was in the same dress she’d worn for most of her recent scenes, a modest, navy-blue cotton sheath that went down to her knees, which he’d heard her complain about more than once.
She thought it was ugly, plain, and too constricting.
In Obi-Wan’s opinion, it was classy, making her look exactly as a pilot’s wife should—respectable.
“Good morning,” she purred as she approached.
“Carmen,” Obi-Wan said with a nod, barely keeping his temper in check.
Now that Casper and Laryn’s secret was out, the stress level Casper had been feeling was reduced, but PT hadn’t gotten any easier.
This morning, they’d run a half marathon, with the last half being in the sand, which sucked big time.
Running in the sand was one of Obi-Wan’s least favorite things.
It was a great workout, but that didn’t mean he liked it.
He was also late getting to the set because he’d witnessed an accident on the way in, and had stopped like the responsible citizen he was to give a statement to the police.
“Guess what today is!” she said perkily.
Obi-Wan took a sip of his own coffee and didn’t respond, wishing she’d get on with whatever she wanted to say so he could be on his way.
“It’s my last day of filming! And there’s going to be a party for me around three. I know you usually leave around lunchtime, but I thought you could make an exception today and stay to celebrate with me.”
“Can’t, sorry,” Obi-Wan said. “I have to work.”
Carmen pouted. “But I was hoping we could go out afterward.”
That was it. Obi-Wan was done. “When have I ever given you any indication that I was interested in you, Carmen? In fact, I’ve told you the exact opposite—multiple times.
You’re beautiful, and successful, and obviously very popular.
But I told you from the get-go that I wasn’t interested in dating,” Obi-Wan said bluntly.
Her eyes narrowed. “You sure seemed interested in dating that weird medic when I saw you canoodling together at that backwoods bar.”
Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. Not because of what she said, because she wasn’t wrong. He was very interested in…canoodling…with Zita. But more because of the absolute fury in her tone.
She was an actress, could turn the tears on at will.
For the first time, Obi-Wan realized what a good actress she really was.
She’d hidden her anger, jealousy, and irritation over his attention toward Zita extremely well.
He’d kind of thought she was an airhead, almost oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t making any headway with him at all.
“I can’t believe you’d choose that instead of this.” She gestured to her body, arching her back to show off her tits and cocking her hip to the side.
There were so many things Obi-Wan wanted to say, but deciding silence would be the best way to go here, he simply shrugged. Which seemed to inflame her further.
“You’re going to regret saying no to me. You have no idea how much influence I have. How many people would bend over backward to do what I want.”
Obi-Wan stood up straighter. “Are you threatening me?” he asked incredulously.
“No. Of course not.” Her voice had changed. Lost the acrid tone. Now she sounded sickly sweet. As if she was nothing more than the airheaded actress she projected to the world once more. “I’m simply saying you’re missing out. I could’ve given you the world, Obi-Wan.”
“I don’t want the world. Just my little corner of it. And I’m perfectly happy with where I am in my life right now—without you in it, thank you very much.”
Her eyes narrowed again, but then her face lost all emotion. It was actually kind of impressive how she could lock down everything she was feeling and project nothing but serenity to those around her.
But Obi-Wan had seen through the smoke screen she hid behind.
She’d let her shields slip. Deep down, the woman was poison.
Spoiled rotten and used to getting her way.
She might not throw a tantrum in front of the cast and crew…
but she was planning something. Obi-Wan had no doubt about that.
And while she claimed she wasn’t threatening him, he’d been around enough to know that when someone was experiencing high emotions, the words coming out of their mouth were usually more true than not.
He sensed movement behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see Silas standing there. Carmen’s bodyguard had probably heard their entire conversation. The question was, what would he do about it? It was obvious the man was besotted with his client.
Thankfully, he didn’t do anything other than follow behind Carmen when she turned away in a huff and stalked off.
The air around him literally seemed to lighten the second the woman was out of his personal space. Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan watched as Carmen approached the director after he called cut.
To his amusement, Grubbner didn’t even look at her, simply waved her away.
Two rejections in as many minutes probably fanned the flames of resentment in the actress, but Obi-Wan didn’t hang around to see what she’d do next.
He was done with her. D.O.N.E. After today, the set would be a much more relaxing place.
He wouldn’t have to be on his toes, wouldn’t have to try to avoid running into Carmen.
It didn’t take long to find Zita. She was in the makeshift break room that had been set up by catering to provide light snacks to everyone on set throughout the day.
Obi-Wan had been impressed on his first day to find not only large tables overflowing with nonperishable snacks—both healthy and not so much—but also several little round tables with chairs.
It kind of looked like a café of sorts, but without the specialty coffees and servers.
“Morning,” he said, walking over to the small table where Zita was sitting. He placed the coffee he’d gotten for her beside the laptop she was using and took a seat opposite.