Page 69 of Slow Burn Summer

“There’s interest from a major studio in a script I worked on a couple of years ago. The project faltered at the final hurdle last time. It was pretty crushing for everyone involved.”

Kate didn’t know what to say. He’d told her the L.A. part of his life was over. That he never wanted to see those hills again.

“What will you do?”

“I don’t know.” He looked away, sighing into the morning air. “I figured that part of my life was done with, but if I’m brutally honest my gut reaction to the news was elation. An emotional muscle memory, maybe, because writing is a tough gig and chances of success are vanishingly small even with connections.Good stuff doesn’t happen often. I sat outside on the balcony for a while after reading the message, trying to work out whether to take the stairs toward potential danger or head out of the front door to safety.”

The conversation had gone so far away from where Kate had expected that she wasn’t sure how to respond. “Was the text from your ex-wife?”

He nodded. “We wrote the script together.”

“What about Fiona and the agency?” she said, when what she really wanted to ask wasWhat about me, what about the book, what about the landslide I’m caught in the middle of?

He closed his eyes, and she could see the strain he was under. “I need to go home and think.”

It felt, in the moment, as if his news had wiped their deleted scene from the script altogether. She drew in a breath and gathered herself, feeling as if she needed to rebalance the scales.

“I’ve been thinking about what to do next too,” she said. “I obviously don’t plan on living above the shop forever—I’m basically borrowing Liv’s life. More than that. I’ve taken it over. She’d never say it, but she and Nish have spent years building their family together. They don’t need me setting fires underneath them all the time.”

“What are you saying?”

She shrugged. “I’ve scuppered my chances of acting with everything that’s happened with the book, but in all honesty I’ve changed my mind about the idea anyway. I’ve had enough of London. It’s too big, too all-consuming. Once all of this is over with the book I might rent a place down south. Cornwall maybe, I love it there.”

She wasn’t lying, exactly. She’d thought all of those things in recent weeks, but not in any solid form.

They looked at each other steadily, moments of silent connection and then disconnection.

“We should hit the road,” he said, sliding his aviators over his eyes.

“Liv’s expecting me,” she said, getting to her feet and dusting herself down.

37

Charlie’s mobile rang as heturned the engine off outside the fancy-dress shop. “It’s Fiona,” he said, frowning. “She’s taking meetings in New York before she boards a cruise around the Caribbean, I better answer it.”

Kate turned her face toward the window as he stepped away from the car, watching the quiet street. The drive home had been subdued, returning to reality with a jolt rather than a soft landing. She’d felt bolstered by the thought that, however bad things got, they were in it together. She didn’t feel that way anymore, because the reality was that however much the book had taken over her life, it hadn’t taken over Charlie’s. He had other clients, and other pulls on his time and emotions. His conversation with Fiona sounded heated, his tone reaching her even though she wasn’t attempting to listen. If it concerned her, he’d share it with her. Perhaps Fiona had heard the Hollywood scoop already; she seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere. Kate waited in the car until he’d ended the call, affording him some privacy.

“Sorry about that.” He opened her door, weary concern all over his face.

“Everything okay?”

He rolled his shoulders. “Depends how you look at things.” He paused. “Fiona has sold the rights to the book in the U.S.”

“What will that mean for me?” She frowned, getting out of the car.

“It means the book will be published in the U.S. soon, very soon actually, in order to ride the current wave of interest here.”

“Will it be published with my name on it and my photo and everything?”

“The success here has caused a ripple effect,” he said, not directly answering the question.

“Can I opt out of all this?”

She stared at him, and he didn’t look away. “I don’t think you can, Kate. It’s in the contract.”

They stood face-to-face in the street, feeling a million miles away from the closeness they’d shared together. It felt more like a page torn out and screwed up than a deleted scene.

“But people know now, it’s not the same anymore,” she said. “How can they publish it as it is when everyone knows that Kate Darrowby doesn’t exist?”

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