Page 102 of A Change of Location
“They won’t wait that long for the big reveal. The subterfuge is too stressful. I empathize.”
“Does your mother know?”
He shook his head. “Caroline thought it safer not to tell anyone else. I hope you don’t mind that I confided in her about us. After she heard the full saga, she suggested that my being seen with her would prevent people from finding out about you and me. I didn’t think you’d be bothered. Any more than I was every time I saw you with that infernal Scotsman.”
“I’ve been way more bothered by hiding our relationship,” she confessed. “Chase told me to stop worrying about the media. I should’ve listened to him. After thinking about it a lot, I realized that even if you and I do eventually end up in a gossip column, the attention won’t be lasting. I’ve missed you more here in Somerset than I did when there was an ocean between us.”
He spread his arms outward, an invitation that she happily accepted. He slid his hands along her waist, settling on her hips, and pulled her closer.
Their mouths met in a long, satisfying kiss.
From the depths of her skirt pocket, her cell phone clanged. “Sorry,” she said. Glancing at the screen, she found Liz’s image. “I’d better answer.” She swiped to take the call.
“Where the hell are you?”
“Stanwell House.”
“I’m sitting in the hotel lobby, waiting for you. We need to talk.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. No questions. Get your skinny ass over here.”
Martin’s hand had shifted to that part of her anatomy. “Okay. Bye.” After a quick kiss, she said apologetically, “She wouldn’t bother me so late if it wasn’t really important. Or a crisis. Maybe she heard about what Logan did.”
“Go.” Before she could open the door to her car, she heard him call her name. When she turned around, he said, “I was so relieved by what you said that I forgot to say how much I love you.”
“Good. Because I love you, too. And guess what?”
“What?”
“I don’t care who knows it.”
Chapter 31
She found Liz waiting for her on an overstuffed sofa, clutching a large manilla envelope.
“My mother offered to babysit Lexi so Tom and I could have a romantic dinner at the restaurant.”
Hannah looked around. “Where is he?”
“At our house, checking that Mom is coping with the grandbaby, and vice versa. He’ll be back to pick me up. Soon.” She held out the envelope. “This is for you.”
“Thanks. I think. What’s inside?”
“Your enrollment application for the British Film Producers Association. I filled out the form, but it needs your signature. And your Acorn Films credit card number for the annual dues payment.”
Hannah opened the flap and pulled out the papers. Staring at the BPA letterhead and logo, she said, “I’ve had a crazy evening like you wouldn’t believe. When you explain why you did this, please go very slowly and speak very, very clearly.”
“Mom’s visit isn’t the only reason you haven’t seen much of me this week. I’ve been wrapping up negotiations on a major development deal. A union of Acorn Films and ServeFlix, the largest streaming service in the known universe. Our offices and legal departments have approved the press release. It’s going out—actually, I don’t know. Tomorrow, I think. We provide them with an infinite amount of content—feature films, series, documentaries. I’ll be staffing up on both sides of the Atlantic. I want you to set up my outpost over here. You won’t be managing it, though. Because you’ll be my producing partner. For everything. Not just Wendy Edney’s Great English Gardens. Is that clear enough?”
“Perfectly.” Hannah sank against the sofa. “Liz, are you sure?”
“You’ve got vision. You’re creative. And organized. You keep your wits about you when under the most intense kind of pressure.” A manicured forefinger tapped the envelope. “I put Hartcliffe Studios as a placeholder address. Before submitting the paperwork, you can change that. If you need to. I have a hunch you will. I see headlights—that’ll be Tom.” She stood. “Shit!”
“What’s wrong?”
“I look like hell.” Liz stared at the ornate mirror on the opposite wall. “I’m surprised I didn’t put him off his dinner.”
