Page 47 of Valentine Nook
“Sometimes. When people don’t respect boundaries. With social media, everyone feels like they’re entitled to a piece of you. But this is a career I chose, and meeting fans comes with the territory. And I do love it most of the time. It’s just a bit more intense right after a film releases.”
“And you just had one come out?”
It’s a question, not a statement.
I stop walking and glance up at him, pushing my sunglasses on my head.
It’s been a long time since I met someone who’s never seen my work, even from my early days.
It’s been even longer since I spent time with anyone who had no interest in films or fame or Hollywood. It’s a strange experience meeting someone who already knows a ton about you, thanks to Wikipedia or whatever tabloid outlet they’d got their hands on that day.
It’s even stranger to meet someone who doesn’t.
But Lando’s asking because he genuinely wants to know. Because this is all new to him.
“Are you telling me you haven’t watched my films?”
He takes in my shocked expression and his mouth drops. “Um . . . um . . . I?—”
“I’m messing with you.” I laugh and shove him playfully in the ribs.
“That may be . . .” He clears his throat. “I’m still embarrassed to say I haven’t, but that’s nothing on you. I just never have the time to sit and watch a movie. Alex said it was very good, though,” he adds quickly.
“Well, then, please thank him for me. If you ever do find yourself having time, I can recommend a few good ones. Not mine, just really good movies.”
“But I’d like to see yours,” he replies, “as long as you bring the popcorn.”
“I can do popcorn.”
A huge roar of cheers erupts from the cricket pitch, and everyone around us spins to see what caused it. But there’s too much in the way to see. I want to ask Lando what he thinks happened, and if we can go watch a little when I notice an impossibly glamorous older woman walking toward us.
The type of woman I aspire to be when I reach her age.
Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect makeup.
She has to be mid-sixties, wearing navy blue slacks and a white button-down that doesn’t look like it’s ever had a speck of dirt on it. She’s dressed in that impossibly expensive and put-together way, but only if you know what you’re looking for—custom fits and the highest quality fabrics.
She’s soEnglishand proper. I imagine she has afternoon tea with sandwiches every day.
I notice people watching her as she passes them, though her eyes are on no one but Lando, and as this woman looks exactlyhow Clemmie will look in forty years, it’s not a stretch to figure she’s his mom.
“Ohgod.” I barely catch what he’s mumbling from the side of his mouth. “Holiday, I apologize in advance for anything about to happen.”
“There you are, darling. I’ve been searching everywhere for you. I haven’t seen you all day.”
Lando bends down, placing a brief kiss on her cheek. “Hello, Mother.”
But she isn’t looking at Lando. Her entire focus is on me, and she thrusts her hand out. Lando’s watching me, and I can’t tell if it’s through nerves or curiosity.
“You must be Holiday. Welcome to Valentine Nook, my dear. My daughter has been singing your praises. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. I’m Victoria Burlington, Lando’s mother.”
I have met so many people in my life, which instilled in me the ability to be both incredibly charming and not easily intimidated, but right now, I have to dig deep. I also fight the urge to curtsey.
Removing my sunglasses, I give her my very best smile. A genuine one. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“How are you enjoying the cottage?” she coos. “Lando used to live in it, you know. If you have any problems at all, he’ll be able to help.”
I turn to Lando. I’m certain he’s not mentioned that before, and I’m also certain Clemmie hadn’t either. No, it’s brand-new information.
