84

4
FOSTER
Someone smashed Adrianne’s security camera on her front gate. I saw it the moment I pulled up. It was hanging by a handful of wires. I reached out and plucked it off where it was hanging. I punched in the code that Callan sent me and waited as the gate slowly swung open.
The driveway wound in toward the house, and I parked by Callan’s truck. It was dusky now, and the house looked gloomy and old in the fading light. This was a house that wanted Tiffany windows and an Art Deco design. Something worthy of old Hollywood.
I walked the perimeter of the property and saw a dozen places that an intruder could have gotten through. The hedges had thin spots. The wrought iron was rusted out in places. I made a mental list of all the things that would have to be repaired or reinforced to deter anyone from trying to physically get on the property. I took pictures of everything to show her and Ethan.
Starting with getting a proper security system with a monitor that didn’t live half a world away. Adrianne needed someone local to keep an eye on her in real time. I added that to the list in my head.
After looking around the property, I approached the front door and immediately saw what Callan had called about. The glass in the door was shattered. Through the hole, I could see a brick. Glad he had the sense not to touch it, I thought as I took more pictures. Then, I called Callan. “Wyatt,” he answered after a single ring.
“Cal,” I said. “I’m here. How do you want me to come in?”
“Around the back,” Callan told him. “There’s a path that goes around to the back yard.”
“No internal fencing?” “None.”
I scoffed at that. “So the only privacy is the hedge?” “Foster.”
I ground my teeth. “Give me two minutes.”
Callan hung up, and I quickly rounded the house. Behind the house, there was a pool and spa and an outdoor kitchen on a porch with an assembly of furniture. The back was all glass. Aesthetically, it was the perfect example of California indoor-outdoor living, but all I could see was how unsafe it was. Adrianne was lucky that the brick was thrown through the front door. It could have done some real damage back here.
Callan pushed open the first panel of the accordion door and beckoned me inside. He clapped me on the shoulder as I passed. Adrianne was at the counter, picking at a slice of pizza. “Hungry?” Callan asked. “We’ve got plenty.”
In the sink, there was a pan that still held the remnants of whatever she had been trying to cook. “I’m good,” I said. “Let’s go look at the foyer.”
Callan nodded. He glanced at Adrianne, and his expression shifted. He looked at her like she was . . . precious. Like he would fight the entire world for her. Goddammit, Cal. Ethan was going to murder him.
“Do you want to stay here?” he asked her.
Adrianne shook her head. “Please don’t leave me alone.”
Callan touched her shoulder, and she leaned into him, comfortable in a way that she wasn’t this afternoon. “Of course not,” he said.
I waited to feel like the third wheel, but even as Adrianne leaned into Callan, she looked at me. “You’re safe, Ms. Montoya,” I said.
She cracked a smile, and something in my chest lightened. “Call me Adrianne, Foster, please,” she said. “I’m not a big fan of formalities.”
Callan snorted. “Foster invented formalities.”
My lip drew up in a sneer, even as I tried to keep my face neutral. Adrianne’s eyes, like warm honey, studied me. “I don’t think you’re as buttoned-up as you want me to think,” she said.
Her words weren’t a challenge. They were calculated and straightforward. Like she was trying to figure me out. A flush crept up the back of my neck, and I couldn’t tell whether I liked it or not.
“Could we focus?” I asked. “There’s a hole in the front door that we need to address.”
That shuttered her expression. Damn it . . . it had been my intention to get us all back on track, but I hated the fear that was stamped into her eyes and twisted the corners of her mouth.
“Nice going,” Callan snarked as we walked through the living room and into the foyer.
There were glass shards everywhere, and I threw an arm up to stop Adrianne from coming too close. “Glass,” I said. “Be careful.”
Adrianne smiled with soft amusement. “I know.” But when her eyes drifted back to the mess, that smile dropped away. “What are you going to do?”
“Take pictures of everything,” I said. “Then, we’ll very carefully pick up the brick and figure out what it says.”
“You sound like a cop.”
Callan chuckled. “He almost was,” he said. “He was taking classes at the police academy when Ethan tracked him down and told him about the security firm.”
Adrianne hummed. “I guess I thought that you had all left the SEALs together to start the firm.”
The air was sucked out of the room. “No,” Callan said carefully. I could feel his eyes on me, but I refused to look at him. How much would he actually say? “We all left for different reasons,” he said, going for the diplomatic answer.
It was impressive, really.
Generally, Callan had the problem of running his mouth and revealing too much when it came to our collective private business. “Ethan brought us all back together.”
Adrianne was curious, we both knew, but she didn’t press for details the way some people would. “Should we call the police?” she asked, dropping the matter entirely. “About all of this?”
Callan nodded. “We will,” he assured her. “But we want to get our take on the situation first, and I wanted Foster to see it first.”
“Why?”
“He’s good at reading situations,” Callan said. “Ethan’s our tactician. he makes the plans, but Foster gathers intel.”
While he explained the delicate balance of our little group, I looked at the damage. The brick was thrown with some force-it shattered the
window almost entirely. “They got close to the house,” I told them. “Too close.”
Callan looked grim. “The security system didn’t alert her phone.” “The security system was ripped out.”
Adrianne’s face turned grey. “It was ripped out?”
I wanted to reassure her without lying to her. I was shit at that. “Security systems that don’t have a person actively on scene are meant to offer . . . comfort over actual security. They’re fine if you’re out in the ‘burbs, but-” “But I should have just gotten over myself and hired a bodyguard
sooner, right?” She was mad, but it wasn’t directed at me or Callan. She knew that she’d been naive, and it was a hard truth to grapple with.
I kept expecting her to have a tantrum, like some of the celebrities I’d worked with before Ethan stopped assigning me to the Hollywood crowd, but so far, she hadn’t.
Maybe stop expecting her to and see what happens, I told myself.
I pulled out a pair of gloves from my pocket and put one on. Carefully, I reached down and picked up the brick. Touching it as little as possible, I peeled off the paper that was wrapped around it. The letter was short and advised Adrianne that, “incredible beauty” that she is, she should keep herself “worthy” of the role of Dr. Maria Falconi.
Adrianne wrapped her arms around herself, shivering like she was cold.
Callan and I reached for her at the same time.
His arms went around her shoulders, and mine looped around her waist. Together, we held her as she trembled. “I haven’t even started filming yet,” she said and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “What happens when that first movie comes out, and this person hates it? Will they come after me to punish me?” She laughed. It held an edge of hysteria. “Or what if they love it? What then?”
I rubbed my hands up and down her back soothingly. “Don’t play ‘what ifs’ with yourself,” I said. “We can’t guess what will happen.”
She looked at me. Her eyes turned to warm, liquid honey. She was an angel. “So, what can I do?”
“Live your life,” I said. “Let us worry about all of this.” I gestured to the broken glass. “We’ll keep you safe.”
“I like to be in the loop,” she said. “I like to know what’s going on.”
“Of course,” I said. “But knowing what’s going on shouldn’t impede your life.”
Callan kissed the top of her head. “Why don’t you go run a bath? Foster and I will clean this up.” She shook her head, obviously ready to argue, but he stopped her. “Filming starts tomorrow, right? We’ve got to be up early.”
I watched the fight drain from her face. She smiled up at Callan, and then her gaze slid to me. “Thank you both,” she said, and the corners of her mouth curled into a smile that made my stomach drop to my knees. She was too pretty for own goddamn good.
When she was gone, I reached over and smacked the back of Callan’s head. He whirled on me. “What the fuck, dude?”
“You had sex with her.” It wasn’t a question, and Callan didn’t try to lie his way out of it.
Instead, he gave me a hard, studious look. “You want her,” he said. It wasn’t a question either, but I didn’t try and deny it.
“I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near her,” I said, and we both knew it was the truth. Ethan’s code about clients was ironclad, so even though I did want her, I wouldn’t have touched her.
“Merc wants her too,” Callan said, ignoring me. “We saw that from the moment we walked into his office.”
“So?”
“So, what if she wants all of us?”
I hadn’t expected him to say that part out loud. It had been two years since we had shared a woman for more than a night or a long weekend. Since we lost Laura. I shook my head. It doesn’t matter, I thought. She’s off limits.
“Even if she does,” I said, “she’s still a client. Ethan would never go for
it.”
Callan scoffed. “You give him too much credit,” he said. “He’s not
some monk.”
“Boys?” We turned, and Adrianne stood in the hallway behind us. She’d changed into a short, silky robe that hid absolutely nothing. My mouth watered. I imagined what it would be like to peel that little robe down and open her up like a present. We both stood, gobsmacked, for a moment. “The vacuum and broom are in that closet,” she said, pointing to the door behind me.
“On it,” Callan said, voice tight. “We’ll get this all cleaned up.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You’ll be staying tonight, right, Foster?” I met her gaze. “I’ll feel more comfortable if I know that the both of you are
here.”
“I won’t go anywhere,” I promised. She turned and disappeared back through the living room. Neither of us could look away from the swish- swish of her robe.
“When Ethan kills you, I’ll make sure to delete everything in your phone so your folks won’t be embarrassed.”
Callan shoved me. “I like you better when you don’t talk,” he snarled. “Let’s just clean up the damn glass, all right? We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“Aye, aye.”