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Something about her is aweebit familiar, but I can’t place her in my mind.
“Is she my bodyguard?” I whisper to Donnelly, but just as I ask, I notice how the other bodyguards bristle around her, even more so when two other men slip inside the store.
It registers the same time Donnelly says, “That’s Ali Miller. She’s production.”
Behind her, I recognize the very tall Jack Highland—he’s the exec producer on the unit that films my older brother and older cousins. He’s Filipino and white, and at his side is a guy who looks like he could be Ali’s twin. Just as fashionable and poised.
“Ambrose,” Donnelly tells me quietly. “Ali’s brother.”So maybe not twins? Or else I think he would’ve led with that.“And that’s Jack. All production.”
There are three production units that film my family, and I’m a part of the third one, so I’m not around Jack’s team as much as Maximoff, Jane, and Charlie. But…I think I was supposed to be shifted to Jack’s team after I graduated high school, so maybe Original Luna knows him better than I do.
Disappointed, I lower back in my seat. And so, the mystery of my bodyguard prevails.
“Give us some space here,” Ambrose tells the bodyguard fleet.
“We could move some of the shelves,” Ali says to Jack and acts as if security is invisible. “It’d give the guests more room.”
“Do you have to do this now?” a late-twenties bodyguard asks with slight edge. He kinda reminds me of my Uncle Connor’s bodyguard—a younger version. Golden-skinned, warm brown hair curled at his ears.
Donnelly sees me squinting. “Cruz Jr. He’s Kinney’s full-time bodyguard.”
Huh. “What happened to his dad?”Cruz Sr.
“Retired.”
So many bodyguard changes, but I wasn’t always that aware of them even when I didn’t have memory problems.
“Well, we aren’t going to do it later,” Ali says, still surveying the store. She points at the espresso machines and whispers to Jack. He’s typing on his phone.
“Aren’t you guys done with post-production?” a burly white bodyguard asks. “The new season of WAC already premiered.”
I usually always watch the premiere with Tom and Eliot. I wonder how many months the new season covers and what big events they filmed. Tuning into the docuseries might help fill in blanks. I sense a binge-watch in my future.
“This is for awedding,” Ambrose emphasizes like they’re air-headed jocks. “We already explained we’re seeing if the store can hold two-hundred people for the welcome party.”
“We’ll be out of your hair in ten,” Jack tells security. “I promise, it’ll be quick.”
“Who’s getting married?” I whisper to Donnelly, careful so they don’t hear. Production has no clue I have amnesia. Not yet, at least.
“The story supervisor and boom operator on Jack’s unit. Jane’s their wedding planner.”
Jane is a wedding planner?That suits her.I want to smile, but bodyguards start muttering, pissy over production occupying this space when it’s supposed to be safe for me, maybe.
“There’s always another fucking wedding in production,” a bodyguard grumbles. I’m guessing security is full of Single Pringles while production is getting hitched left and right.
Ambrose rotates back to him. “Maybe go out once in a while. Take a day off. Go wash your body with soap and you’ll find someone who wants to touch it.”
Ali snorts into a laugh.
Jack is trying not to smile. “Ambrose.”
“Me?” Ambrose plays innocent.
Ali says pointedly, “My brother is full of relationship tips that nobody wants to hear.”
“Jack wants to hear them,” Ambrose says.
“I do, but later,” Jack smiles.
