Page 91 of Hello Darling
The letter is handwritten. He must have had it delivered to Whit. Evan Hunter’s handwriting is as long and strong and tidy and handsome as he is. As always, his words slay me and comfort me at the same time.
Hello Darling,
I have always dreamed of buying a house by the sea.
I thought it would be in Cornwall, but it turns out it’s not which town, country or sea the house looks out to, but who I’m looking out on it with.
No matter where I go in the world now, the tides will always bring me back to you, Stella Starkey.
I have absolutely no intention of ever getting over you.
Be the one that I look out at this beautiful view with.
Keep your guest house too, if that’s what you want.
Muffin Top can have her pick of the guest rooms whenever you’re here.
One key is to this house in Port Gladstone, one is to my home in London.
You already have the key to my heart.
I love you and I love you and I love you
Hello.
P.S. Stop laughing.
P.P.S. Please be naked whenever possible so I can enjoy that view too, thx
P.P.P.S. My assistant Wendy will be emailing you a plane ticket. Get your ass to London now, dammit. I need to say the thing I need to say to you in person and can’t come to PG just now. Just do it.
I’m not laughing at all. I can barely read the postscripts because my eyes are filled with tears.
I pull out my phone. It may not be romantic that I immediately go into manager mode and call Candace to make sure she can cover for me at the gym, and then I go into Cat Mom mode to make sure Whit and Brett can look after Muffin Top, but practicality is the thing that will get me on a plane and out of Port Gladstone. Love and romance was never the problem when it came to Evan Hunter.
When I get back to the gym, Wendy has emailed me a plane ticket from Seattle to London that leaves tomorrow afternoon, although she wrote that they will pay the fee if I need to change the flight. She has also arranged a car service to Evan’s home in Notting Hill. My dad is there at the front desk, and I am already starting to get nervous about everything. He reads my face immediately and ushers me to the back office. I am burying myself in his chest before he has shut the office door.
“Hey now. Why aren’t you happy and excited and at home packing your suitcase?”
“I don’t want to leave for more than a couple of weeks at a time.”
“Nobody’s making you move away, kiddo. We’ll all be here when you get back. You are loved here. You are needed here. You’ll be missed here. You are always welcome here. But if you don’t go to London and to that wedding, or wherever he is,to be with him, I will carry you there myself.”
* * *
I left Seattle early afternoon and arrived in London in the early morning. I was able to sleep on the plane courtesy of the melatonin that Billy got me, and feel just drowsy enough to be functional without the nerves. It’s a foggy day in London town, but so far from what I’ve seen it is every bit as gorgeous and grand and thrilling as the man who has summoned me here.
The driver of this BMW informs me that we’ll be arriving at my destination soon. I freaking love that destination. It’s the right time to arrive. Finally
Evan knows I’m coming because I sent him a picture that I had Billy take of me when he dropped me off at SeaTac. I’m wearing theI’m a HunterhoeT-shirt that Mona sent me for Christmas, in return for the scented candles that I re-re-gifted to her. He doesn’t have to be at rehearsals until the afternoon, and I plan to stay with him here until after his friend’s wedding. Two weeks.
When the driver opens the door for me, in front of a white semi-detached updated Victorian era home with a gated small front garden, Evan Hunter opens the elegant black front door of the house and I swear the sun starts shining just on us. He’s wearing jeans and a sweater and slippers and as always he is impossibly handsome and awake for this time of the morning. He jogs down the steps and short path to open the iron gate for me, hugging me so tight, not even letting go when he takes my suitcase from the driver and gives him a tip.
“Hello darling,” he says, kissing me on the cheek. “You’re here.”
“I’m so sorry I left you.”
“I’m glad you’re here now. There’s so much I want to say to you, come in.” He closes and locks the front gate and leads me up the stairs by one hand while carrying my luggage in the other. As soon as we’re inside, I’m covering him with kisses. “I’m sorry everything took so long. My publicist made me wait until after the Fallout premiere before wearing that T-shirt so the journalists would stay focused on the movie, and then it took a couple of days before anyone actually took pictures of me around town. Those fuckers are never there when you need them.” He is removing my scarf and coat while I try to pull his sweater off over his head.
