“You—” Chase jabbed a finger in the air, right in the area of Alba’s face “—are not going anywhere until we finish filming. Fucking unprofessional.” His face twisted with fury. And the only thing keeping me from lunging at him was that Alba looked like she could pass out at any moment. “This shit would not be happening if we would’ve gone with Kayla.”

When it happened it was in slow motion. One moment Alba was swaying like she was drunk and the next she was crashing to the floor.

“Fuck, Alba,” I cried, diving to catch her before she hit the concrete, which had to be boiling hot. People were coming at us from every direction asking what was wrong, but my focus was solely on her. “Get out my way, give her room to breathe,” I roared, clutching her to me. “I got you, baby,” I whispered, running shaky fingers over her damp brow. She looked gray even with the makeup still on. “Where’s the medic?” I yelled, turning around to find Chase looking at me like an idiot.

“You did this,” I seethed at him, even as I placed her gently on the grass so the medic on set could check her out.

“Me! What did I do?”

“You better pray she’s fine,” I bit out, turning my attention to what the EMT was telling me.

“Her vitals are good,” she told me, still looking at Alba’s pupils. “It’s probably a bad combination of not enough water and too much sun. Make sure she gets plenty of liquids and lots of sleep and she should be all right. Keep an eye on her overnight, do cold compresses on her forehead. If she gets a fever it might be good to take her to the emergency room.” I nodded as a wave of nausea roiled in my stomach. If anything happened to her because of this fucking show...

“Should I take her now, should we call an ambulance?” The woman gave me that “poor fucker” pitying smile and shook her head.

“This is just dehydration. Electrolytes and some sleep should do the trick.”

“I’m taking her home,” I told Chase over my shoulder, who gave me a very wide berth when I walked by him. “And she’s taking the rest of the weekend off.” I didn’t wait for anyone to respond or tell me that I’d be wasting the production money by cutting out early. The only thing I cared about was making sure that the woman I loved got what she needed. I brushed a kiss on her clammy forehead as I made my way to my truck, praying this was just exhaustion like the medic had said. Mona caught up with me, looking sick with worry. She had Alba’s purse in her hand.

“Here, this is hers.”