Page 37 of Good Enough

Now she was full-out laughing. “I wonder what God would say about the harem plus one you’ve got on the lot. And you’ve only been here a week. Imagine the damage you’d do if you hung around longer.”

“Kubrick,” he warned.

“We’d have to put you on retainer to take care of all the women's needs. And Christoff.” Tears were leaking out of the corner of her eyes.

“No Christoff. No other women. I’m only interested in taking care of one woman’s needs.”

Kubrick stopped laughing.

Well, that came out wrong. Not a lie, but it came out wrong.

The rest of the ride was quiet. When they got to the airport, he swung his bag, hers, and her backpack onto his shoulders, then proceeded to secure the truck.

He did, however, get held up checking in due to his weapon.

“What was that all about?” Kubrick asked him at security.

“Must have been her first time checking in a weapon.”

She stared at him blankly. “Excuse me, but did you say ‘weapon’?”

“Yep.”

“Umm…”

“Kubrick, I’ve had it every time I’ve been around you, and to be honest, since age eighteen, I haven’t been anywhere without it. It’s all legal; it’s in a locked case in the cargo hold with the baggage, so everything is copacetic.”

“We’re on a movie shoot. Why would you need a weapon?”

He looked at her over his sunglasses.

“Oh, great gravy, okay!” Her voice went deep and growly, doing a Tarzan imitation. “Me big badass SEAL. Must have gun. Pew! Pew!” She made the universal gun shape with her thumb and forefinger as she pretended to shoot villains.

“No ‘big badass SEAL’ has a gun that goes ‘Pew! Pew!’ And I don’t know that I’d make that gesture or talk about firing guns in an airport, or you’ll get yourself on the No Fly List.”

She waved her hand in front of her face as if to say whatever.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “You know you sounded a lot like Cookie Monster, right?”

“You suck, Waters.”

“I have about five smartass replies for that.”

She rolled her eyes. “And all so original, I’m sure. C’mon, G.I. Joe. I want to make sure I get a decent chair in the Flight Club since some jerkface made me get here three fucking hours early.”

Just short of the TSA screener in the precheck line, she tossed over her shoulder, “That wasn’t your only weapon, was it?”

“What do you think?”

“Fuck me. What if you get caught?”

“Really?”

“How?” she hissed.

“Industry secret.”

“Fuck me.”