“Hey, Mick.” The guard at the studio gate beamed at Mick. “Me and the wife already got the babysitter booked for the Thursday after next! Every morning while I’m eating my breakfast, I make another check mark on the calendar. Counting down until the big day!”

“Going to paint the town, huh? What’s the occasion, big birthday coming up? Anniversary?” Mick’s head was turned away from her, but Sarah knew he was smiling. She could see the creases fanning outward from his eye, the portion of his cheek that was visible lifted upward. Yes, the man swaggered around with a tough-guy veneer, but underneath his gruff growl, she could now discern the warmth and genuine goodness in his voice.

“Seeing Retribution, that’s what we’re gonna do! Opening weekend. The buzz on the street is it is amazing! The lines at the box office are going to be massive. I’m gonna bring folding chairs. The wife, she wanted to see some chick flick, but we know who’s the boss.” The guard laughed heartily, and then he tipped his hat back and peered into Mick’s car at Sarah. “Who you got with you?”

Mick glanced at Sarah. She could see his whole face now, and it was as if the cloud had moved on, revealing the full glory of the sun. “A friend,” Mick said, his gaze still locked on her.

Over Mick’s shoulder, Sarah could see the guard wiggle his eyebrows. “Nice to meet you, friend,” the guard said. “I’ll need some ID.”

She saw Mick’s eyes widen slightly before he turned his focus back on the guard. “Is that necessary? We’re going to be five minutes tops. Just picking up some work and heading back out.”

“Sorry, Mick.” The guard straightened and pushed his hat back in place. “Would love to accommodate you, but it’s not worth my job. The little lady needs a pass.”

“No worries.” Sarah dug in her purse and pulled her counterfeit ID out of her wallet, acting casual, feeling clammy under her blouse. She placed a polite smile on her face as she leaned across the center console and handed her fake driver’s license through the window.

The guard glanced at it. “Rachel Jones?” She nodded. “Just a minute please.” He took her ID into his booth. Sarah could feel tension radiating off Mick. Could see the guard typing stuff into his computer. He’s just a guard at the studio. Not a cop. It is highly doubtful his system is tied to the police. Logically, she knew this. Internally, she was freaking out.

“Sorry. I forgot about this,” Mick murmured. “Do you need us to leave?”