Rumor has it that Julia Vega has demanded that three assistants accompany her to the undisclosed set every day. She has also requested that Marco Rimmel, master chef of the stars, cater all her meals while on production. Her masseuse and life coach are also with her. Her co-stars are unhappy about her behavior and there have been a lot of tense moments on set. A fistfight between Vega and Monroe’s new girl didn’t help ease the situation . . .

The next day when they both exited the car, he came up to her and took her hand in his. It still made her feel weird, as if now everyone would know they were sleeping together.

“I don’t give a fuck who knows about us,” he said, tightening his grip as she tried to pull away.

“I’m your bodyguard. Imagine the fake fistfight this will cause me and Julia.”

He laughed. “Fine. But you’re also my girlfriend, so get used to this because I’m handsy.” He kissed her cheek as they walked.

Girlfriend?

Why did that set her heart aflutter?

The next two weeks went more or less the same. Nothing was amiss, everything relatively quiet on the set as rumors swirled all around the country. Rumors about their relationship, rumors about Julia, about financing, about riots and angry fans . . . she wasn’t sure what was fact and what was fiction anymore.

But she was impressed with everyone, Julia included. Paul came to the set a few times to make sure things were in order. Ben looked annoyed at Julia most of the time, but stayed professional and vigilant. Spelling was more cheerful than ever because they were actually on schedule, which meant that NHN was thrilled.

Annie kept a close eye on what was going on in Colombia. The movie hadn’t even been made yet, and they’d already banned it in a few provinces. There was also a big rally in LA at the NHN studios from anti-violence groups upset that El Traficante was sensationalizing violence. But everyone was ignoring it as if this was a normal Hollywood to-do. So Annie went about her day making sure that Rocco was safe, which was what her job entailed.

Today, however, the day was overcast and Spelling was uncharacteristically irritable. Rocco and Julia had shot one scene at least a hundred times and it wasn’t improving. Unfortunately it was a kissing scene and if she had to see Julia and Rocco kiss one more time, she was going to scream. And what made it worse was that their acting, being so phenomenal, made it hard to differentiate between acting and reality. The passion was there. Too realistic, in her opinion. But Spelling did not agree. Not at all.

As they set up to redo the scene yet again, a Google alert from her phone, one that she had set up as soon as she began working with Rocco, came up. She’d grown used to it, since he was always somewhere on the internet.

Sitting back on her designated chair in the front corner of the set where she could keep an eye on everything, she clicked on the link in the alert. Because of the poor reception it took forever to load.

Looks like the secret’s out. El Trafficante is being filmed just a few miles south of Florida City just off mile marker forty, according to Julia Vargas’s Facebook check-in. Maybe we’ll finally get to hear from Monroe and Vargas. Are they or aren’t they a couple? Is she referencing the characters or themselves?

Underneath the caption was a photo of Julia’s post, checking into the area with a selfie of her in her Victoria Mendoza makeup. She’d captioned the photo: Gabriel and Victoria true love.

If smoke could come out of Anabelle’s ears, it would have. She stomped to Ben and turned her phone his way. “Look. Your client just fucked us.”

He took the phone from her hand and looked at it and if smoke could come out of his ears it would have. He was livid.

There was a lot of mud from the recent rain and just from the natural conditions of the swampy park. The set itself, however, had layers of fake terrain. Therefore, when Annie found herself crossing over to Julia in the middle of the shoot, leaving a trail of mud on the fake floor and messing up the shot, no one was happy.

“Cut! Cut!” Spelling shouted. “What the hell is going on?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but it seems we’ve had a security breach.” Annie barked, walking right over to the stupid woman and shoving the phone right to her face. Rocco came quickly around to read it too.

“You stopped us for that? I was in the middle of the performance of a lifetime!”

“Oh, please. Give it a rest. You’ve kissed him enough for one day, don’t you think?”

“Keep your jealous girlfriend away from me, Rock.”

“Jealous? This has nothing to do with jealousy. I’m not going to jeopardize my client’s safety because of your stupid Facebook post!”

“Off my set!” Spelling yelled. “And if you ever think of interrupting—” He got right in her face and yelled loudly but before Annie had a chance to reply, Rocco pulled her by the arm behind him.

“If you ever raise your voice to Annabelle again, I walk. You understand?”

“Rocco—”

“No. You understand? She is doing her job. And you—” He turned around to Julia. “Are you that dumb? We’ll have a hundred people on set within the hour.”

Spelling walked over and put his palm out. Rocco took the phone out of Annie’s hand and placed it on Spelling’s hand. The director read it and scowled at Julia. “What’s the point of hiding out in the middle of this damn mosquito-infested jungle? Of paying for these bodyguards? Jesus, Julia,” he turned to Annabelle. “I’m sorry for losing my temper. You’re right. This is absolute stupidity. Back to work, people. This may very well be the last day we’re here. Janice, call the scouts. Get a backup,” he yelled to one of the PAs, who quickly ran into a trailer to start working.

“I’m sorry I interrupted,” Annie said to Rocco.

He kissed the top of her head and pulled her to his chest. “Don’t be sorry. You made the right call. We’ll probably finish tonight or pull a late night because tomorrow this will be swarming with paps. God, what was she thinking?”

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Spelling yelled a moment later.

“I’ll go to the entrance and see if there’s anything going on. You stay here?” Ben asked.

“Yeah. Good idea.”

Where they were shooting was a clearing in the middle of the Everglades. To say there was an actual entrance was a misnomer. There was a swampy road lined by mangroves off the road. Half a mile later was the clearing. How they’d gotten permits to film in the dense, untouched land, Annie did not know.

It was still early, maybe they could get everything done quickly. There was only one more day of shooting left for Rocco and Julia. The rest of the crew would stay for stills and some extra shots, but Julia and Rocco and the rest of the crew would be flying out tomorrow to Colombia.

But as the day progressed, Annie grew more and more wary. What really worried her was that the Google alert was not timely. Plus, it had been over a couple of hours since Julia had made her post, which already had nine thousand comments, probably from the road and not the clearing. The exact spot they were in would be hard to locate since the reception was spotty where they were. She wanted to keep her eyes out but at the same time she tried to scroll through the Facebook post to see if there was anything alarming. She was getting frustrated with the internet speed and was close to losing her temper.

The posts ranged from: You should be ashamed of yourself to I can’t wait to see this movie. There were a few disgusting and very graphic and lewd posts about Julia and some about Rocco.

As she scrolled down, Annie realized that this was what her life would be like if she dated Rocco. Not the crazy stalker shit, which may very well be a common occurrence, but the women constantly vying for his attention. Could she ever compete? Was she as thick-skinned as she hoped she was? Because that is the only way to date a movie star like Rocco. Blind trust and the ability to ignore the paparazzi and rabid fans.

“Death to Americano.”

“Americano idiota”

“Viva Gabriel. El Comandante”

Then it started to become alarming. One, then two, and then suddenly a hundred people started egging each other on, right there on Julia’s Facebook page. “Let’s show the Hollywood prick, he’s not a real man, like Mendoza was.”

“He doesn’t know how to handle a gun like I do and like el comandante. Let’s go show him.”

It was her experience that the mob mentality was sometimes worse than a true believer of a cause. Her heart pumped, and for the first time, she wasn’t sure whether to interrupt them again, or stop production all together.

Her decision was made when Ben came running back.

“Julia! In the car. Now.” Then he pointed to Annie and said, “Two pickup trucks on the street and one news van. Pickups have signs and four to five people on the bed of the truck. Getting out of here is going to be hell.”

Because of the unmarked path to the clearing, it seemed as if everyone parked by the Facebook check-in but didn’t know the exact whereabouts of where they were. Unfortunately, though, they’d have to pass right in front of them to get out of there.

The crew began to pick up as Ben drove Julia away. Annie wasn’t exactly sure if that was the right decision. The paps would see where Ben came from and know where the filming was generally located. They needed to leave before the crowd became larger, but if there was another way away . . .

“Come on, before we’re mobbed. We’re going on foot.”

* * *

“Crazy, this is the craziest idea you could’ve possibly had.”

“Ben and Julia are going to unintentionally lead them to us. Plus, I don’t go into situations blind. What if we were seriously outnumbered? What if they are violent? Without a phone to call to get an idea of what was going on, I’m not going to take a risk.”

“You don’t go into a situation blind?” Rocco asked, trudging forward through the swamp. “What the hell do you call this? Are we lost?”

“Did you really think I didn’t have a backup plan? I scoped this out a week ago and Joey gave me three alternate routes. Relax.”

“At least give me a gun!” he snapped, while following her deep into the Everglades. This was reminiscent of a fucking horror movie.

“Keep low. Shut your mouth. We’re less than a quarter mile from the street. The Facebook check-in post has a wide range. Cars can be parked anywhere and your voice carries, especially out here.”

She was hunched down and he had a perfect view of her perfect ass; too bad this was the least perfect timing to be doing such a thing.

“If we weren’t knee-deep in mud, I’d fuck that commando attitude out of you, right here against that mangrove tree.”

She turned, an eyebrow cocked high. “That one right there? The one buzzing with mosquitoes?”

“Yeah, Tiger, that one right there. You wouldn’t feel the mosquitoes, trust me.”

“How about the snakes and alligators, I wouldn’t feel those either?” she teased.

“Jesus Christ, babe,” he said, as his foot disappeared into the muddy swamp. “Way to ruin a moment.”

Grabbing her by the arm, he stopped her. She turned, still hunched low, and mouthed an annoyed, “What?” as he patted her breasts.

“I thought you were being cute. This really is not the time, Monroe!” she reprimanded.

“I’m grabbing whatever weapon you have tucked in here, Tiger.” He pulled out her ASEK, which she’d explained was an Army-issued knife. With a roll of her eyes, she relented. It wasn’t a gun but it would do.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way? I think this is a bad idea. We should be—”

“Holy fucking Christ.” She stopped, forcing him to grab onto her waist in order to avoid pushing her forward. “Would you shut up? I know where I’m going.”

Okay, yes. Of course she did. She was military trained. She was a fighter. She was fucking stunning. And he wanted her so fucking much he ached. But it was time to listen to his bodyguard, not his cock.

When they were at a small clearing, nothing but miles and miles of sea grass when he looked left and right, she pulled out her cell phone. “Damn. Still no reception,” she whispered, and he checked his too and shook his head. “Come on, a few more yards.”

“To where?” he asked, exasperated.

“There’s a little hole-in-the-wall bar about a mile that way. Hurry before it gets dark.”

“I’m hurrying.”

They continued to track through mangroves and swamp, the sound of the nearby road muted by the loud noise of crickets and swamp things all around them.

Every time water moved anywhere he jumped. He tried not to. He tried to be the cool badass alpha male a woman like Annabelle deserved, but fuck that—alligators were not something he wanted to come face to face with. Every few feet she’d check her reception. There was nothing anywhere and Rocco was convinced they were lost. “Would you stop checking your phone, damn it. You’re not going to get reception!” he growled when he saw her grab the phone two seconds later.

She yanked the phone back. “I’m not checking reception, you idiot. It’s a compass app.” She shook her head, exasperated. “Of the two of us, who spends most of their day fuckin’ around on social media? You think in the middle of the fucking Everglades, I’m Snapchatting?”

She grunted and turned back to where she was going.

A compass.

Good idea.

It wouldn’t have occurred to him. He’d have died in the middle of the Everglades, a perfect snack for the wildlife.

“There!” She pointed ahead. He couldn’t see anything. The sun was beginning to set and he just squinted as they walked. Eventually, the small rickety shack came into focus. “And look, now we have reception.”

She stopped about a yard away from the building but still ankle deep in the murky water. Why couldn’t she have this conversation away from the reptiles?

“Joe, I’m at Plan C. Send a pick up,” she said and hung up. He wasn’t sure what Joey’s reaction was or if Joey needed more information. And what the hell was Plan C?

“Plan C?”

“We had different exit strategies planned. I picked this one, Plan C.”

As they approached, he saw an old sign dangling from an even older pole. “No Name Bar, est. 1917.”

“Of course,” he murmured under his breath. He really was in a horror movie.

The bar was relatively empty except for the bartender and two bikers sitting at the bar. Annabelle crossed straight back and toward a booth, gesturing to him to go first. His brow furrowed but the way she stared at him, there was a reason. Everything she did was for a reason, so he shut up and slid in. She slid next. Not across, but right next to him. “Your face is mostly covered and no one can see you with the shadow from the door,” she explained.

“Gotcha.”

A man, who could’ve been the owner since 1917 from the looks of it, came toward them. She ordered without hesitation. “Two Buds.”

The old man nodded and walked away. “Try to blend in. Joey’ll be here soon.”

“Blend in?” he guffawed. “How exactly should I blend in? I’m not one hundred years old or a bearded biker. What were Plan A and B?”

“Plan A was the road and Plan B was two miles east. There’s an airboat rental.”

“You’re pretty incredible, you know that?”

“Just doing my job,” she said as the old man brought the beers. She pulled up her phone and called Ben. He answered and she spoke.

“You two make it out okay?”

“If by ‘okay’ you mean that I had to pull my weapon out in front of a news van in order to get three cars to move out of the road, yeah. We also had bottles thrown and a shattered window. But we’re okay now. There are probably twenty cars headed to the set. I hope you got out before that.”

“Yeah, we’re good. Have to have someone pick up the car, though. Keep safe. File a report, call NHN, and let Jax or Joey know.”

“Got it, kid,” he said as she hung up with a frown.

“What happened now?”

“I hate it when they call me kid.” She shook her head and then explained what Ben had said. “I’m glad we didn’t risk going the other way.”

Rocco rubbed the palm of his hand over his face. God, she was losing it and he wasn’t sure how to break the news. “Annabelle, please don’t take this the wrong way, but they weren’t going to kill me. I’m used to a crowd of people. This was overkill.”

“How’s this overkill? Did you want to be ambushed by an angry mob?”

“The news was there. No one was going to pull out a gun. It would’ve been a huge pain in the ass, but it would have been okay.”

She processed that. Would it have been okay? Last time she was in a crowd of people, things were not okay. Not at all.

Was she taking this job overboard? She hadn’t doubted her ability before, but now . . .

Her phone rang as she was mulling it over. “Bad news. The set was destroyed,” Joey said, alarmed.

“What?”

“Burned down completely. Almost everyone was out but a few crew members were hurt fighting with the mob. Annie, these people are serious. I’m thinking there’s more to this than we thought. Their purpose is to sabotage this movie, completely. And they are not afraid to get violent. I’m going to the set. See what I can get from the cops and the scene before I pick you up. You’re safe?”

“Yeah. No worries. Keep me posted.”

“By the way, rumors are that Julia is going to take a big hit from this. The studio is livid and is fining her through the nose, since it was her fault.”

“Good. It’s deserved.”

“Certainly is. Call you back.”

“We didn’t overreact,” she said, setting her phone down. “The set burned down. There’s some injuries. Julia is getting fined. Paul would probably know more about that, though.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. I have a bad feeling, Rocco. Joey does too. Don’t make me question my decisions again. I know what I’m doing, and I have to trust my instincts.”

“Well then, fuck. Colombia’s going to be interesting.”