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listened as he described square footage of the units, the laundry valet service and the well-appointed clubhouse, complete with workout room. One thing she’d requested, though, was left out of his description. “Everything you’ve mentioned sounds wonderful, Campbell. But what about the security?”

      He snapped his fingers. “Yes, sorry about that. The Glenn is a gated community with twenty-four-hour surveillance, both remotely and through the on-site guard.”

      “I’m assuming the guard has a station at the entrance gate?”

      “Yes.”

      “What about security for the individual units?”

      His brow cocked as if the question surprised him, but he slid smoothly into an answer. “Each unit has an electronic security system. Cameras are placed all around the property, and every square inch has coverage.”

      She shifted in her seat. “That sounds great. But what if I require something more? Is it possible for me to get a security guard for my unit?”

      He frowned a bit. “I’m not sure that would be necessary, Ms. Dandridge. You won’t find a safer place in the country than our little island.”

      “That may be so, but this is a unique situation. In my line of work, I’ve seen what people are capable of. I’ve dealt with stalkers and crazed fans in the past, and I’d rather not do it again.” She decided not to tell him about the guy she’d found scaling the fence at her house in Los Angeles, or the one who’d tried spying on her with a drone. At least not now.

      Sitting back in his chair, he looked thoughtful for a moment. “I may be able to arrange something for you, but it will take some time. The Glenn isn’t staffed for that sort of thing.”

      “I can understand that. I would really like a guard, though, and I’d really appreciate it if you could make that happen.” She returned the booklets to him.

      “No problem.” He picked up a pen from a cup on his desk. “Let me show you the video tour of the unit, so you can see how it’s laid out.” He entered some commands onto his computer’s keyboard, then turned the monitor her way.

      For the next few minutes, she watched the screen, impressed by the unit’s layout, furnishings and decor. “It’s lovely. It looks like just the sort of place I want. What do I need to do next?”

      “We’ll need to do a bit of paperwork, and I’ll collect your deposit and the first month’s rent. Then you’ll leave a list of the groceries you want, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

      “How long will it be before I can get into the unit?” She’d long since gotten tired of the chain hotel she was staying in. While the place was serviceable, she thrived on privacy and there was just too much noise and commotion there.

      “I can get you in tomorrow, as long as I can get the cleaning crew in there in the next couple of hours.”

      She breathed a sigh of relief. “Then as soon as I leave here, I’ll start packing.”

      For the next twenty minutes, he worked with her through the property agreement. After she’d signed her name to the document, and selected her desired groceries from the extensive checklist he gave her, she passed his pen back to him.

      She sat by as he made calls to the personal shopper and the cleaning crew. Once he was done, he set his phone aside. “You’re all set, Ms. Dandridge. Your unit should be ready around 1:00 p.m. tomorrow. Since you put your mobile number on the form, I’ll text you the address.”

      She stood. “Thank you for your help.”

      He pushed his chair back and stood, as well. “Thank you for your business.” Another megawatt smile followed his words.

      Turning away lest she started staring at him again, she slung her purse strap over her shoulder and exited.

      Back in her car, she let herself feel the glow of his fanboy crush on her for a few moments. Then she banished the thoughts from her mind. Crush or not, she didn’t have time for romance right now. The show took up all her free time.

      And based on her experiences with men, she wasn’t missing anything.

      * * *

      As Campbell moved his stool closer to the bar at the Salty Siren, the wooden feet scraped over the concrete floors. Next to him, his old friend and new brother-in-law, Devon Franklin, drank from a mug of root beer, his eyes trained on one of the big screen televisions. The burger and fries he’d ordered for lunch were on the bar in front of him.

      “Sorry I’m late. I see you ordered without me.”

      Devon shrugged but didn’t look away from the television. “I didn’t have time to wait. I gotta be back at the studio by a quarter after one.”

      “What’s got your attention, man?”

      Devon sat the mug down. “Haven’t you heard? There’s a pretty big tropical storm out in the Atlantic right now.”

      Campbell’s eyes widened. September was the peak hurricane season around these parts, but things had been relatively quiet over the last few years. “Good grief. What’s going on with it?”

      “Just watch the news report, man.” Devon kept his gaze on the screen.

      Campbell looked, as well, paying close attention to both the on-screen graphics and the words of the local meteorologist.

      “Tropical storm Hester is churning in the Atlantic as we speak, folks. She’s an angry one, but due to the cool front approaching from the west, we don’t expect her to be upgraded or to come on shore for the mainland. However, she does pose the threat of heavy rain, strong winds, rough surf and possible flooding to the islands off the coasts of North Carolina and South Carolina. We expect to see the main impact from the storm over the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”

      Well, shit. Campbell hoped the storm wouldn’t cause too much damage. MHI always kept storm preparedness supplies on hand and crews on call this time of year, but the island was abuzz with the cast and crew of The Shores, as well as all the extra tourists who’d come in with them.

      Devon turned his way after the weather report ended. “It’s looking kind of dicey on the weather front. I’d better have the crew film as many scenes as they can this afternoon, in case we have to close down production for a few days.”

      Shaking his head, Campbell signaled for Maddie, the waitress. “I hope it won’t be too bad. With all your people here, plus the folks who came onto the island trying to get on camera when y’all are filming, there are a lot of extra people on the island.”

      “Yeah. I bet the police and fire people are getting geared up.”

      “Probably.” Thinking MHI should brace for any impact the storm might bring, he fired off a quick text to Savion, letting him know to alert the crew that they might be needed over the next week.

      Maddie came over then, and Campbell ordered a buffalo chicken salad and bottled water. After she left, he turned to Devon. “So, I had a meeting with your star earlier today, about a rental unit.”

      Devon nodded. “So you met with Sierra. She’s something, isn’t she?”

      He whistled. “Yes. She’s gorgeous, even more so than she is on-screen.”

      Devon swallowed a mouthful of food, eyed him closely. “What are you saying, Cam? You trying to get with her?”

      He shook his head. “Nah. I mean, yeah, but not really.” He waved his hand in front of him, dismissing the idea. “I don’t stand a chance with the ‘Ice Queen.’”

      With a chuckle, Devon popped a fry into his mouth.

      “What does that mean?”

      “I’m saying, Cam. Don’t sell yourself short. Plus, Sierra isn’t nearly as cold as people make her out to be.”

      “Really?”

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