The Protector: Broken (working title)

Chapter 8: THE EYES OF THE BEHOLDEN

"I have an awesome opportunity to work on a film that will be on location in several different countries. It's as a Production Assistant, not in front of the camera, but its great pay, and I'm really excited about the travel!!"

"How long?"

"They're asking for us to free up 4 weeks."

"Do you have visitation rights?"

"Mark, I'm not going to jail."

I could hear him chuckle. He responded to someone talking to him in the office briefly, then returned his attention to me. "When are you supposed to leave?"

"Well, this is the joy of working temporary! I don't have to give any two weeks' notice! I can just up and go without messing anybody up!"

"That soon, huh? When, Bobbi, when?" He sounded like he was getting anxious.

"Um, tomorrow."

Silence.

Suddenly I could hear him shouting to someone, slightly muffled, about taking the rest of the day off.

"I'll meet you at your place."

"I'm still getting established with the producers, I don't know when I'll be back."

"I'll meet you at your place."

"Oh, ok...you ok?"

"I don't know...Where's MY two week notice???"

Finally it sinks in. Oh yeah, he'll probably reeeallly miss me...and I might even miss him. Oh farfegnugen.

"I'll be home as soon as possible, Markie."

I could almost hear him smile, he loves it when I call him that. I was so excited about the movie I forgot to think about him. I need to work on that, little spoilt brat that I can be.

The room was abuzz with busy people, filling out forms, taking note of important information; One line here to show your passport and other pertinent info for the traveling, another line there to get a folder with appropriate plane tickets, etc. I was one of the last people in line and it was moving really slow. Poor Mark. I looked at my watch. Too late to lunch together, I hope we can at least do dinner. I glanced around the room and looked at the people managing the chaos around me and my heart sank like a cement block in a deep pond as I found myself locking eyes with Sasha walking toward me. And he looked great. His dreads were shorter, neatly above his shoulders. He was actually dressed professionally, with matching clothes and all. He looks like he's changed.

"Sasha, Hi." Spoken with uncertainty.

"Are you working this gig??" He tried almost successfully to act distant.

"Yes. Yes I am."

"Hm. What locations are you going to?"

"I don't know, actually."

He looked at me and laughed. "That's so you. Here, let me take a look." He grabbed the paperwork that I had in my hands. "Come with me."

I hesitated. He turned around and the tension was there again. Once again I was afraid to trust him. "I can get your paperwork for you and get you out of here, ok?" I sensed a little agitation. Mark might be right; I probably have some things to make up with him.

"Yeah, sure, sorry. "

He walked with me behind the tables and the people in the lines all looked at me with mild belligerence at my favored treatment. I smiled apologetically at them.