When Landon turned around, Elisha was already sitting up, hugging her knees, gazing at him with eyes brimming with infatuation and expectation—an even more undisguised possessiveness than the night before.
"Do you have scenes today?" Landon asked, breaking the silence.
"One this afternoon," Elisha answered softly, stepping barefoot from the bed and walking over. "A scene with you."
Only then did Landon remember that the day's schedule did include a scene between him and Elisha.
He realized that, unlike his carefree parting from Mia, Elisha would remain on set; day after day they would meet, act together, breathe the same air.
What happened last night would not vanish with the morning light—it would bleed into their work.
The realization brought a surge of conflicting emotions.
On one side, a quiet worry: how to keep this secret? Would it affect their work? What if Tracy or Rachel noticed?
On the other, when his eyes met Elisha's—crystal-clear and reflecting only him—he felt a flush of satisfaction.
To be so ardently desired and watched by this young, beautiful life was an indescribable temptation.
"We should head back to set." Landon pushed the turmoil aside and briskly gathered the scattered clothes.
Elisha dressed obediently, her gaze lingering on him the entire time.
On the ride back they shared a cab; after yesterday's intimacy, leaning together felt natural.
Elisha rested docilely against his shoulder, the faint scent of her hair drifting around him.
A fulfilled excitement colored her cheeks; she would peek up at him, eyes soft as water, no words needed.
Landon's arm encircled her as he stared out at Los Angeles waking beyond the window, mind churning.
He thought of Tracy and Rachel in New York.
Tracy would be busy negotiating Rachel's audition or some new project; Rachel might be nervously preparing for an interview.
And here he was, three thousand miles away, holding another girl, still carrying last night's reckless scent.
He wondered whether tonight he would return to that empty house—or lose himself with Elisha again.
He glanced down at Elisha curled against him; sensing his gaze, she tightened her arms around his.
The answer was self-evident.
Last night had been wild, dreamlike—never meant to happen, yet impossible not to drown in.
The real warmth in his arms now told him the dream had left marks too deep to erase.
The cab stopped at the studio gates; the bustle of set life swallowed them at once.
Landon drew a steadying breath, locking the chaos away, and became the slightly brooding CTU agent Tony Almeida once more.
In the makeup trailer, Zoey was already waiting.
She took his jacket, studying his face. "Went to the party with them last night?"
While laying out her supplies she added casually, "You didn't pick me up." Usually Landon swung by Zoey's place and they rode in together.
"Yeah, I did," Landon answered curtly, settling into the chair and closing his eyes to hide any telltale flicker.
"Stay out late?" Zoey began applying base, tone level, betraying nothing.
"Not too bad," Landon murmured.
She asked no more, but Landon caught the pauses in her brushes and the mirror glances at a spot beneath his jaw; her knowing look was unmistakable.
In an industry of tangled relationships, the smart kept their distance and their silence—see all, say nothing was basic survival, even between close employer and assistant.
During the morning break Landon ran into Kiefer Sutherland in the lounge, coffee in hand.
The veteran studied him with perceptive eyes, expression neutral, yet Landon felt mildly exposed.
"Landon," Kiefer said quietly but seriously,
"Remember, in this business the easiest things to get are noisy attention and fleeting pleasure.
The hardest is to keep professional integrity. Don't let a moment's fun wreck a future."
Landon nodded gravely, a surge of gratitude rising.
He knew Kiefer had seen something, yet chose to warn him this way—an act of kindness.
The thought resurfaced: he had to make Phone Booth with Kiefer; the man was an actor worthy of respect.
That afternoon, the scene with Elisha arrived on schedule.
It featured Kim Bauer (Elisha) endangered because of her father Jack Bauer's work; Tony Almeida was assigned to protect her. In a safe-house they shared a tense yet trusting exchange.
The instant the director called "Action,"
unspoken tension crackled between them.
Before the lens they were agent and imperiled girl, following the script;
beyond it they shared last night's burning secret, every glance still warm.
Elisha threw herself into the role; the dependence, unease, and flicker of thrill she aimed at Landon-as-Tony fulfilled the scene as though she poured her own feelings straight into Kim Bauer.
"Cut!" Director Joel Surnow sounded pleased. "Great, Elisha—those emotions feel real. Hold that energy!"
As soon as the camera stopped they separated, heading to their own corners without a word,
only a distant, fleeting look between them.
Both knew exactly what fed the "real" the director praised.
Still riding the scene's adrenaline, they silently agreed to leave the dangerous veil undrawn.
Shooting wrapped at dusk.
Zoey removed Landon's makeup; he changed, packed up, and stepped out to find Elisha waiting in the shadows nearby.
She said nothing, only gazed at him with expectant eyes, fingers twisting the hem of her shirt.
Landon hesitated.
Reason told him to refuse, to draw a line, to return to his empty house.