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“Yeah, babe?”
“Would you mind if I found a spot to read while you talk to Andy?”
Kris pulls me into him and kisses me. His soft lips move against mine, and his tongue darts in teasingly, and then he’s gone, leaving me with a dazed feeling as I watch him jog over to his director.
An assistant on set sees me and walks over.
“Mrs. Livingston, can we get you anything?”
“Is it okay if I sit over there and read while Kris talks to Andy?”
She has a headset on and begins nodding, then she looks at Kris and Andy and says, “Of course, Mr. Weston, right away.”
I’m a little perplexed when she links her arm with mine.
“My name is Hannah, and Mr. Weston wants you to wait in his private area. No one is allowed in there, so you’ll be all on your own.” Hannah stops walking and looks at me. “Unless you don’t want to be on your own? I could stay with you?”
“No, I’m perfectly happy to be by myself. I might get some writing done.”
“Oh, are you in the business too?”
“Not exactly, although Andy promised to make one of my books into a movie. Kris was going to star in it, but after his accident, production was postponed. Hopefully, it’ll be next on their agenda.”
“You’re an author? Would I know you?” asks Hannah with her other hand to her chest.
It’s one of those questions which makes me squirm. Yes, I’ve been on theNew York TimesBestseller list many times, but I write romance novels. Books for women to escape in. The accolades are wonderful, but it’s not why I do it. I write because I have to. It’s the way I keep myself on an even keel. If I don’t write, I’m unnerved, unbalanced. The fact I’ve found a readership amazes me, and I’m honored when readers reach out to tell me how much they love my work. But I never know how to answer this question, ‘Would I know you?’ without sounding like a diva.
“Maybe?Being Lonelywas my first book—”
“Oh, my God! I’ve read that,” exclaims Hannah. “You’re Athena Goddess!”
Smiling and slightly embarrassed, I nod. “Yes, I am.”
“I loved that book and the next two… so good.”
“You’ve only read the first three?”
Hannah stops walking and pulls me to a halt. “Wait, there are more?”
“Yes, six more and three more planned.”
Smiling broadly, Hannah continues to walk. “I’ve got some catching up to do.”
“I could give them to you. At home, I keep a small amount for special people.”
“That would be awesome! Will you sign them?”
There’s an office in front of us with Andy Westin’s name on the door. Hannah opens it, and we go inside.
“Of course.”
“You have to let me pay for them.”
Shaking my head, I say, “No, it would be my pleasure.”
Looking around the office, there’s a desk, a couch with a coffee table in front of it, and a coffee machine against the wall that looks like a professional barista’s piece of equipment.
Hannah catches me staring at the large silver and black machine. “It’s easy to use. Would you like me to make you one?”
