Chapter 132: Playing Soccer

The hotel's private beach had been reserved by two crew members, granting them exclusive access for a Saturday beach party with an endless supply of wine, drinks, and barbecue.

However, there was an evident bias. Men who weren't part of the crew weren't allowed to join in, while women were welcome to participate in the beach festivities at their leisure.

Martin strolled onto the beach wearing just his swim trunks.

Ajia called out to him, "Martin, come here, let's play a game."

On the beach football field with five players on each side, Ajia had assembled a team of female players, thanks to the director's persuasive skills.

Martin rushed over without hesitation.

Within the enclosed court, at least a dozen swimsuit-clad girls awaited.

They were all young actresses playing female football players from the neighboring cast.

Ajia declared, "We'll be the captains, each picking four players for our teams."

Martin stepped on the football and agreed, "Sure."

The female players around him were thrilled, stretching out their hands, jumping, and shouting, "Director Ajia, pick me! Pick me!"

Martin called out, "Who wants to be on my team?"

Not far away, the famous heartthrob, Blake Lively, sprinted toward them, yelling, "Save a spot for me!"

She was tall with long legs, and her figure was virtually flawless, albeit with a touch of maturity.

Blake joined them but positioned herself next to Ajia instead of Martin.

Ajia wagged her finger teasingly at Martin, saying, "Sorry, buddy, you're not enticing enough."

Martin turned to the girls and asked loudly, "Who wants to team up with me?"

Several female players eagerly volunteered, "We're with you!"

Martin randomly selected four Latin female players, designating the tallest one as the goalkeeper.

Ajia declared, "You kick-off first."

"Alright, ladies!" Martin stood in the center of the court, announcing, "We're going to score first!"

He kicked the ball to a player in a black swimsuit on the left and sprinted towards the opponent's side. The player swiftly passed the ball back.

Martin, who had played soccer during middle school in his previous life but hadn't touched a ball in years, deftly caught it and took a shot.

An opponent in a gold swimsuit charged over from the opposite team, seemingly without intention to stop, and even collided with Martin, ball to body.

Martin got a firsthand taste of what it meant to get hit by a soccer ball.

No wonder Ajia had organized a beach football match.

Blake, the real looker, bumped into Martin and seemed on the brink of falling. She grabbed his arm and used it to cushion her fall.

Ajia dashed past Martin with the ball.

Martin didn't bother to defend her; after all, who wants to defends against male players?

Blake sprang to her feet and charged forward.

Martin backtracked to defend. As he rose to his feet, he noticed Blake, who had received the ball, charging directly toward him with it. There were no fancy moves, shots, or passes. Blake, the genuine stunner, collided with Martin in a daze.

Martin tumbled to the sandy ground.

Blake also fell, landing on top of Martin.

Whether it was due to the fall's impact or some other reason, Blake rolled over on top of Martin.

Ajia was left flabbergasted, finally realizing why the heroine from the adjacent cast had wanted to team up with him.

Clearly, she wasn't interested in him at all!

The dark-haired Latin girl beside her couldn't help but curl her lips, nearly uttering an impolite remark.

But she remembered that her own entry in the crew had been arranged by Blake's father, so she restrained herself, even if she wanted to scold the audacious woman.

"Sorry," Blake struggled to get up, asking, "Did I hurt you?"

With so many onlookers, Martin couldn't say much. "It's alright."

Blake made an effort to rise, extending her hand to help Martin, and couldn't resist complimenting, "You're really strong."

"You're quite fit yourself," Martin returned the compliment, standing up and brushing sand off his body.

Blake shared, "I played soccer and was a cheerleader since sixth grade."

Martin nodded, pondering if her soccer practice included hitting people with the ball.

Ajia grew impatient and shouted, "Are you two going to continue or not?"

Martin moved and suggested, "Why don't you keep playing?"

Not far away, Vogel sat in a beach chair with a view of the entire scene.

The stark contrast in resource allocation filled him with bitterness.

Vogel had climbed his way up the ladder by stepping on others and didn't mind continuing to do so. In his view, Hollywood's ladder was made of people, with each step upward involving someone else's body.

Rick approached him and commented, "It's best to do it in the afternoon; accidents are less likely."

Vogel inquired, "Is everything arranged?"

Rick nodded discreetly, "The snake is ready. Just give me a call on your cell before you leave, and I'll be prepared."

Vogel understood Rick's unspoken request. "After it's done, I'll give you another payment, and you keep quiet."

Rick smiled, "I'm Mexican; I'm no threat to you."

Vogel waved it off, and Rick departed.

Some twenty meters away from the two of them, Bruce concealed his face with a cap, pulled out his recently purchased camera phone, and discreetly took several photos of Rick.

He then dialed Dalot, the crew's security director, and sent an MMS with the pictures.

On the court, the other female players had lost interest in the soccer game. These Mexican girls harbored dreams of going to the United States.

Ajia had been scored upon by the enthusiastic female players.

Martin hadn't fared much better; he was knocked down by several of them, and more came rushing with the ball.

It was chaos!

Martin felt like a survivor in a warzone, struggling to crawl out from under the relentless onslaught of female players.

Two long legs came running from the opposing side. Blake rushed over to save him, lifting Martin and running away.

"Quick! Quick!" Martin may have lost some dignity, but safety was paramount.

After running several dozen meters, Martin stopped.

Blake caught up from behind, brushing the sand off his face, and gazed at his handsome features. "Are you alright?" she inquired.

Martin adjusted his stance, stretching his legs a bit. "It's not a big deal."

Seeing the sand on Martin's body, Blake guided him towards an open-air washing area. "Let's go over there and rinse off the sand. It's hot, you're sweating, and having sand on your body must be uncomfortable."

Martin agreed, so they headed to the washing area.

After quickly rinsing off, it was no longer suitable for sunbathing, so Martin found a beach chair under a sun umbrella.

Blake returned with two glasses of cold drinks, handing one to Martin. "This should suit your taste."

Martin accepted it, nodding appreciatively. "Thank you."

Blake reclined on the beach chair beside him, covering her chest and abdomen with a towel but allowing her legs to dangle over the side of the chair. She playfully wiggled them in front of Martin's eyes and asked, "When will you come to the set? I'm eagerly waiting to rehearse with you. You're playing the role of my crush, and acting with an assistant just doesn't cut it."

Martin casually replied, "I should finish filming here next week."

Seeing Lao Bu approaching, Martin excused himself, saying, "I have something to attend to. We'll talk later."

"I'll be waiting here for you," Blake assured him as he departed.

In a dressing room, Bruce shut the door behind him and began, "I've informed Dalot that his people are tailing the show manager. He seems to have ventured into the wilderness."

Dalot was the security director previously hired by the crew. These local personnel were quite resourceful.

Martin was taken aback. "What's he doing in the wilderness? Is he filming something? We've already shot the location scenes."

Bruce suggested, "It's best to find out what he's up to, so you can adapt accordingly. I believe you can handle things within the confines of the hotel."

Martin emphasized, "Brother, make sure you've got my back."

Bruce reassured him, saying, "Don't worry, I've got you covered. Dalot and his team have worked with Hollywood before, doing jobs discreetly and maintaining a good reputation. Just a phone call away, and at least a dozen people will come."

While the words might sound unreliable, Martin had trust in Bruce.

Before leaving, Bruce added, "Depending on the situation, find out what he's planning, and I'll be nearby."

Returning to the beach, Martin found Craven, Ajia, Capis, and others, along with the female players, all heading back to the hotel.

With this arrangement, it seemed unlikely that they would return to the beach in the afternoon.

Martin returned beneath the parasol and noticed that Blake was still patiently waiting for his return.

As she watched Martin walk back towards the sun, Blake found him quite pleasing to the eye, a true sight to behold.

You needed both looks and physique.

Martin reclined on the beach chair and chatted with Blake until nearly noon.

The two production crews had prepared a lavish lunch, held in the hotel's Grand Ballroom No. 1.

However, the turnout was sparse.

The main male cast and crew members had escorted the Mexican female players back to their rooms early.

Martin showered, changed into fresh clothes, and then arrived at the banquet hall.

The luncheon was buffet-style. Martin grabbed a plate of food and a bottle of wine. As he found a place to sit, Blake, now wearing a dress, joined him.

She placed a glass in front of Martin. "Pour me a glass," she requested.

Martin, out of habit, asked, "Aren't you underage?"

Blake responded, "This isn't America." She beckoned with her fingers, summoning a young actor from the crew. "Get me a bottle of wine," she instructed.

The young actor obediently fetched the wine.

Blake seemed to be considerate of Martin. "This has nothing to do with you."

The young actor returned with the wine, accompanied by several others, including Mike Vogel.

Vogel carried two bottles of Mexican tequila and sat next to Martin. "Martin, it's been a while. Let's have a drink together."

Martin smiled, recalling his tactic of spreading news to stimulate Vogel's competitive spirit, hoping he'd drink impulsively and become confrontational. Vogel was known to be a formidable drinker.

Vogel opened one of the bottles, poured tequila into two glasses, and pushed one toward the edge of the table. He playfully teased Martin, "Remember that time with Andrew Nicholl? You owe me a favor."

Martin refrained from touching the glass. Instead, he poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Tequila doesn't agree with me."

Vogel tilted his head and checked the alcohol content on the whiskey label. "You're welcome."

Martin uncorked the bottle, poured a glass, and proposed a toast to Vogel. "Thank you for what happened last time."

The two clinked glasses and began drinking together.

Once they started, it was hard to stop. Vogel understood this well and, while chatting with Martin, found various reasons to refill their glasses.

Martin was also interested in observing Vogel's behavior.

After a few rounds of drinks, they began boasting loudly.

Martin bragged about incredible feats he'd accomplished, making it sound as though he could single-handedly change the world. However, no one seemed entirely convinced.

Blake felt a tad disappointed. Could the heartthrob really not hold his liquor?

Martin boasted about being the toughest guy in Georgia.

Vogel countered, claiming to be the best in Baja California.