Under the Spotlight

Chapter Seven

Assigning an FBI agent as her babysitter is the worst thing that Bradley could have ever done to her.

As excessive as her mansion is in size and decor, it is the first place that she has ever truly called her home. It's the place where she can be herself without having to worry about people criticizing her every move. In her home, there isn't anyone watching her. There are no reporters talking about her hairstyle, her makeup, her outfit, or her mannerisms. Inside of her mansion, it's just Cassie.

It's also the only place she feels comfortable not wearing makeup.

On the driver's side of the car, Agent Winchester is silent. He keeps his entire focus on the road in front of him, rarely even checking his right mirror. Both of his hands are firmly on the steering wheel.

Cassie is pressed against the passenger door, wishing that she was home already. It has been a long time since she has been in such close proximity with a stranger, and she feels as though his cologne is trying to suffocate her.

She picks at her long nails, a habit she has worked so hard to break. Her left leg bounces up and down while she tries to keep her focus on the buildings they pass rather than their current situation.

If she doesn't keep her mind occupied, her brain will drift to unpleasant memories. Of her first, disastrous year in Hollywood as a successful star, where she had stupidly decided to get into a producer's car—

Drawing in a shuddered breath, Cassie tightens her fingers into a fist. Beads of sweat begin to roll down the back of her neck. The light trickle of AC does nothing to save her from the unbearable heat that's starting to affect her.

"Alright, any secret boyfriends I should know about ahead of time?" Agent Winchester questions.

The actress snaps her gaze to the side of his face. "Uh, no? Why?"

"Just so I know who to expect," he answers. He makes it sound as though the answer is obvious.

It's clear that the FBI agent does not know too much about her. Otherwise he would be aware that she has a terrible track record with keeping a secret relationship a secret.

Though her and her ex had successfully dated for two and a half years before the media found out, they were still discovered. Their image had been blasted everywhere until their public breakup.

"You can expect no one to be invited to my house other than Bradley," she informs the agent.

He turns into the gated community with one hand, reaching the other toward his water bottle in the cup holster. "Right," he answers. He stops just outside of the box, bringing his gaze toward her. "Code?"

She spits out the code for him, watching as he punches in the numbers. The small red light at the box turns green and the gates slowly slide open just wide enough for the agent to drive his car through.

Cassie wonders if he is going to have to be her personal chauffeur, certain that he is not getting paid to do so. Her driver gets paid by the hour for her travel, and she knows he won't be able to afford having the week off.

As Agent Winchester turns onto her street, Cassie texts her agent to give her driver an advanced payment for the next week to ensure that he can afford to make his rent.

"There's someone in your driveway," the agent remarks beside her.

Immediately, Cassie shoots her head up. Sure enough, there's a large black SUV with tinted windows sitting in her driveway. With how dark the window is tinted, it's nearly impossible to see inside of the car. She cannot tell if it is empty or if there is a person lurking inside the vehicle.