Griffin Beach winked at a passing PA as he stepped out of Stage Ten on the Kenwood Studios backlot and slipped his phone out of the pocket of his scrubs. The scrubs might actually be the thing he’d miss most after Las Vegas General filmed its last episode in a few weeks. There were a lot of things to like about this job, but getting to wear what were essentially pajamas most days was a definite perk.

No, he amended as he exchanged greetings with one of the grips, he was going to miss the cast and crew most of all. After seven seasons, this stupid show and the people who worked on it were the closest thing he had to a family. But that would all be over in a few weeks, and he’d have to say goodbye to this place that had become his second home.

Griffin was having a hard time adjusting to the idea. Even though he knew moving on was the best thing for his career right now, he hated change. But his agent was right: he’d gotten too comfortable here. At this point, he could pretty much play Ethan Convey in his sleep. He needed to stretch himself. Show the world that Griffin Beach was more than just a dimpled smile in a pair of scrubs.

He’d taken the first step two years ago when he’d landed his first big film role in Troublemakers 4. Even though he’d been fifth on the call sheet in an ensemble action movie already packed with big-name talent, the world had taken notice of Griffin’s newly bulked-up physique, comic timing, and action hero potential. The film went on to earn higher grosses than its last two predecessors in the franchise, and more than one review had credited it to Griffin’s likable new addition to the cast.

A string of magazine covers had followed, along with a meaty starring role in an indie drama last summer. He was on his way to becoming a household name, but he needed to throw off the shackles of his television shooting schedule and focus on films full time if he wanted to reach the next level. That meant saying goodbye to the job that had launched his acting career.

That reminded him, his agent had sent a text asking him to call her. Sabrina Keeling had worked miracles for Griffin since she’d started representing him three years ago. He’d always be grateful to his first agent for getting him onto Las Vegas General when he was an unknown with only a few commercials under his belt, but switching to Sabrina was the best decision Griffin had ever made for his career. She’d gotten him into Troublemakers 4 and set him up with a publicist to maximize the resulting press. Sabrina had also encouraged him to follow it up with a smaller indie drama to show off his range. Most importantly, she’d worked her magic to get him his next part: a starring role in Prepare for War, a big-budget studio project helmed by none other than Jerry Duncan. With Sabrina in his corner, all Griffin’s professional dreams were finally coming true. Which meant when she called, he called her back right away.

He hit Sabrina’s speed dial number—she was number one, at the very top of his contacts—on the walk back to his trailer. “You beckoned,” he said when she answered.

“How’s my favorite client doing today?”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask Chris Pine yourself.” Griffin flashed a smile as he passed one of the wardrobe assistants.

“So funny,” Sabrina replied with her trademark British dryness. “Love that sense of humor. How’s Dean’s directorial debut on Las Vegas General going?”

“Horrendous.”

“Shocking. Who could have predicted?”

“You did.”

Sabrina had been Dean’s agent several years ago, until they’d mutually agreed to part ways—which Griffin assumed meant she’d fired him for being an uncooperative asshole.

“Well, I’ve got good news to brighten your day. You’re on the short list for the Buckaroo Banzai remake.”

Griffin felt a flicker of unease. “You told me that yesterday.”

“Did I?”

“Yes. You’re using your good news/bad news voice.” Sabrina never gave him bad news without first giving him some good news to soften the blow—even if the good news happened to be a rerun. “Just get to the bad part,” he said, feeling his stomach clench in anticipation.

“It’s just a little thing. I don’t want you getting stressed.”

“I don’t get stressed,” Griffin insisted as his stomach acids churned like a jacuzzi tub. “You know me, I’m easygoing.”

“I know I told you I’d set you up with my dog sitter while you’re in Atlanta, but it’s a no-go. Turns out she’s moving back to Michigan.”

Griffin came to a stop. “Oh.”

As soon as LV Gen wrapped, he was flying to Atlanta to shoot Prepare for War. He’d been planning to leave his dog here, in the care of Sabrina’s dog sitter, so he wouldn’t have any distractions on set.

“We’ll figure something out,” Sabrina told him.

One of the studio bicycles whipped around him, and the writers’ assistant called out a greeting as she passed.

Griffin waved back, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry about it,” he said into the phone.

“I’ve already got my assistant asking around the office. Someone’s bound to have a good dog sitter they can recommend.”

Griffin started walking toward his trailer again. “Someone who’s available on a few weeks’ notice?”

“Sure, why not?”

Because dog sitters were in high demand in LA. Especially the ones with excellent references who could be trusted in a celebrity’s home.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve got to find a new dog sitter too.”

“It’s fine,” Griffin said, grinding his molars together. “I’ll find someone else.” He preferred to handle it himself; it was one thing to take Sabrina’s personal recommendation, but he wasn’t so keen to hire someone based on a secondhand reference. Not when he was going to be away for three whole months.

He couldn’t leave his dog with just anyone. Taco was his best friend, and the little guy depended on Griffin to take care of him. It had to be someone Griffin knew well enough to entrust him to. Someone who would care for him the way he deserved to be cared for.

Sabrina offered an apology which Griffin assured her wasn’t necessary, and he bid her goodbye as he reached his trailer. At the sound of Griffin’s voice, Taco yipped a greeting through the door, his nails tapping an ecstatic rhythm on the linoleum inside.

Griffin had rescued him five years ago, after seeing someone toss a puppy out of their car and drive off. Seriously, what kind of monster threw a puppy out of a moving car? Griffin had taken the scared little mutt to the vet and then brought him home to the big empty house he’d just bought himself two months before. He hoped the asshole who’d mistreated Taco was rotting in hell, but Griffin felt like fate had delivered a blessing to him in a scruffy, flea-bitten package.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, leaning down to keep the dog from escaping as he opened his trailer door. Taco spun in excited circles, wagging his whole body along with his tail, and Griffin scooped him up as he pulled the door shut behind him. “You miss me?”

In reply, the little terrier mix licked Griffin’s face with enthusiasm.

“Gross, man. No Frenching.” He set Taco on the couch and dropped down beside him, ruffling the dog’s ears. “What am I gonna do with you this summer, huh?”

He was already feeling guilty about leaving him behind while he was in Atlanta. Maybe he should just take him with him. But that would create a whole new set of problems. For one thing, Griffin hadn’t told the production manager he’d be bringing a dog, and the housing they’d arranged for him might not allow pets. For another, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to bring a dog with him onto a Jerry Duncan set every day.

This was Griffin’s first time at the top of the call sheet on a major studio production, and he was already feeling the pressure. Jerry Duncan was one of the most successful directors in the business—but also one of the most feared. He was notoriously demanding and bad-tempered, bringing his huge productions in on schedule and under budget by ruthlessly pushing his actors and crew almost to the breaking point. Griffin fully expected it to be three months of hell, but if this movie was as successful as Duncan’s other pictures, it would make his career.

He didn’t need the added stress of taking care of a dog in a strange city on top of the grueling work schedule. As much as he was going to miss his little buddy, he preferred to leave him here, in a familiar place, with someone he trusted.

But who? How the hell was he going to find someone on such short notice?