Page 2 of A Change of Location
His fountain pen poised over a printed form, he asked her name, hotel and room and mobile phone number, and the hours of her party.
“I trust you’re enjoying your time here,” he said. “Your first visit to England?”
“I spent a year at Bristol University. Film and Television Department. But I came here many times before. My mother grew up in Somerset.”
His expression altered slightly. “Which part, north or south?”
“North. Portishead.”
“Have you family there still?”
She shook her head. “My grandmother moved back to Wales to be close to her relatives. My mother’s brother lives in Southfields, near Wimbledon.”
“Convenient for the All-England Tennis Championship,” he commented. “If you’re staying that long. Should we file your order in your own name, or that of your firm?”
She extracted a shiny silver Acorn Films credit card from her wallet and slid it across the counter. She hoped the cheese man was suitably impressed. From the depths of her purse came a series of peals from Big Ben, the ringtone she’d set on arrival in London. She made an apologetic face as she retrieved her phone. “Hannah Ballard.”
“Me again,” Liz Gregorio drawled across thousands of miles.
Mentally she placed her executive producer in her black leather chair, elbows propped on a black marble desktop. The bulging body would be comfortably and expensively sheathed in a jewel-toned silk tunic and matching drawstring pants.
“Nothing’s changed,” she said calmly. “As I’ve already told you, pre-production meetings are on track. Stop pestering me.”
“I’m not. The site of your next appointment changed—again. For some reason the email came to us. Get your skinny ass over to the Savoy Hotel in twenty minutes, because Owen Parry waits for no one. Nigel’s on his way there now. And please tell me it’s do-able.”
Hannah’s eyes lighted on the giant, old-fashioned clock on the wall, and hoped it kept perfect time. “Not unless I leave now, and I do mean this instant. I’m ordering food for the party.”
“I swear this is the last time I do your scheduling from a distant time zone.”
“What else is there to keep you occupied, besides knitting baby booties?”
“Very funny. Don’t forget to mention your Welsh grandmother. The perfect ice-breaker. I’m so jealous. You’ll understand why when you’re twenty months pregnant and I’m sashaying around London with Britain’s most famous director. Yikes—studio accountant on my other line. I can manage only one trans-Atlantic call at a time.”
“Losing your touch,” said Hannah, half a second too late. “My boss,” she told the man at the till, a term that in no way indicated their close personal relationship and long history of working together. “Head of the company.”
“Early for Los Angeles, isn’t it? Or extremely late.”
“She’s in Boston, five hours behind. Would it be all right if I come back later to finish the paperwork? I’m expected at the Savoy for an appointment with our co-producer and Sir Owen Parry.” She was sure he’d recognize that illustrious name.
“I’ve taken down the essential information,” he assured her. “A member of staff will ring you tomorrow to confirm delivery time. Your card, Madam.”
Her gaze landed on the carved and gilded warrant holder crests mounted on the wall behind him. She’d be sure to tell Uncle Chase about meeting the Royal Cheesemonger, who had transformed her dreaded chore into a memorable shopping experience.
Exiting Wincott & Sons, Hannah began the tricky business of hailing a taxicab in a posh and picturesque street where traffic consisted primarily of costly German imports, bulky Range Rovers, and the occasional Rolls Royce or Bentley.
***
“Shall I file that order for you?”
Watching his customer’s attempt to secure transportation, Martin was slow to answer. “Not till I’ve changed it to a Jubilee.”
“She wants a Chelsea,” the shop assistant corrected him. “Wine, cheese, biscuits, and fruit. The Jubilee includes smoked salmon, lemon wedge, and champagne. And Belgian chocolates.”
“I know.”
They watched a cab swallow the petite American and carry her away from the Row.
“Wish I had curls like that.”
