Chapter Twenty
Anna was in her office, reviewing the suggested press release Dan’s manager, Pete, had emailed through, when Hayley tapped on her open door carrying an armful of tinsel.
‘Do you want all this to go up, too?’
‘Do you feel we need it?’ Considering the school seemed to be groaning under the weight of Christmas decorations already, Anna was inclined to think no.
But she’d given responsibility for the decorations to Hayley because she seemed so enthusiastic, and as the season was over the top anyway, it seemed fitting they had an over-the-top excited person in charge.
‘Of course we need it.’ Hayley rolled her eyes and gave her a duh expression. ‘But I heard somewhere that some schools have banned it.’
Inside, Anna was rolling her eyes now, too. ‘I know, but do you think it’s dangerous?’
Hayley started to laugh. ‘Err, no?’
‘Exactly. So by all means, tinsel the school up if you and your band of helpers want to.’
‘Oh, they definitely want to.’ Two children had been nominated by their classmates from each class to help put up the decorations. Or as Hayley saw it, to make the school into a place that Santa’s Elves would want to move into. ‘Do you know why they banned it?’
Anna recalled the email. ‘Apparently it’s a litter hazard and a strangle risk.’
Hayley glanced down at the shiny gold, silver and red tinsel. ‘So pretty, yet so deadly.’
Anna laughed. ‘Exactly. So be very careful out there.’
Anna focused back on the press release. It felt surreal, reading about the actor Daniel Ramsey going back to his roots and helping to put on a Christmas production at his old primary school.
As if this was a totally different man to the one she’d spent a magical weekend with.
An even more magical Saturday night, going into the early hours of Sunday.
Until the alarm he’d promised to set had gone off at five a.m., and she’d scuttled back into the spare room.
At the memory of that night, of what they’d done, how he’d made her feel, heat warmed her blood, settling between her legs.
Anna grabbed at the bottle of water on her desk — it wasn’t quite a cold shower, but it would have to do the trick.
A quick glance at her watch told her she only had five minutes before her lunchtime video call.
Making a couple of minor tweaks to the release, she emailed it back to Pete and slipped into her coat.
This conference call she was going to make in the privacy of her car.
Dead on one o’clock, she pulled out her phone and tapped the Zoom app. After a few moments Faith appeared, grinning widely from her sofa, two cheeky dogs snoozing either side of her, their heads in her lap. ‘Hey, Anna, you look like you’re in the car?’
‘You really think I’m going to have this conversation in my office, where anybody can barge in?’
A second later, there was Gabby. ‘I’m in the office.’
‘Well nobody where you work is going to be interested in what we’re discussing.’
Faith whooped. ‘The fact that you don’t want anyone overhearing you must mean you have something interesting to tell us.’
‘Or it might mean I don’t want the rest of the school knowing I spent the weekend in London with Dan.’
‘You think Maisie won’t have told her classmates already?’ Gabby scoffed. ‘Come on, don’t keep us in suspense. Tell your friends everything.’
‘And start at the beginning,’ Faith added. ‘Because when we saw you on Wednesday night, you were slagging him off for bailing on you, and no way were you going to London with such an unreliable git.’
Anna winced. She had called him that. ‘I may have been a bit harsh. I since found out the audition was for a part in a film. A Hollywood film.’
‘OMG!’ Faith shrieked. ‘You’re going to be dating a Hollywood actor. Before you know it you’ll be having dinner with the Clooneys.’
‘Faith,’ Anna warned. ‘There are so many things wrong with that sentence, I don’t know where to start.
I’m not dating him, he just invited Maisie and me down for that one weekend.
He probably won’t get the part, so he tells me, but even if he did, it will be after the play is finished.
’ 19 December. The date that had seemed so far away now seemed horribly close.
‘By then he’ll be back in London permanently.
’ Unless of course he was in LA, which would be even worse.
‘There will be no more Dan Ramsey.’ And God, the thought was crushing, even though she knew it was inevitable.
There was a collective sigh on the phone.
‘But there is Dan Ramsey now,’ Faith said a moment later. ‘Are you planning on making the most of that?’
‘I’m not planning anything.’ She was trying not to think too far ahead.
She’d see him tomorrow at school as usual.
And then at the dance class. She wasn’t going to think what would happen after that.
Except she’d already, very subtly of course, found out that Val and Bob would be around to babysit for longer if she needed them to.
‘Was he that bad in bed?’ Gabby asked with one of her famous killer questions.
‘Of course he wasn’t. In fact he was—’ Too late, she realised she’d fallen into Gabby’s very obvious trap. When the excited shrieking from her two friends died down, Anna shook her head. ‘Okay, very clever.’
‘This is the part where I remind you to tell us everything,’ Gabby replied, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
‘I can’t,’ Anna replied, only half-jokingly. ‘It would take too long. And I don’t want the car steaming up.’
‘Ooh, he lives up to his reputation then?’ Faith goggled.
‘Actually, no.’ The night flashed back to her. How kind he’d been, how open with her. As well as how passionate, and how insatiable. ‘He’s far more than his reputation, in every sense.’
* * *
Dan didn’t mean to shift on the chair. Didn’t mean to avoid Pete’s eyes when he asked him, very casually as friends often do, if he’d had a good weekend.
‘Great, thanks.’
Pete stared back at him, his eyes sharpening. ‘You’ve met someone.’
Dan reared back on his seat. ‘Whoa, hold on a minute. Who do you think you are, Mystic Meg?’
‘I’m better than her. I don’t need a crystal ball or a sweaty palm. I rely on body language. Who is she?’
Shit, he should be a better actor than this.
Dan made himself look Pete in the eye and smile.
‘With an imagination like that, you could write books.’ He paused for what he hoped was an appropriate two seconds.
‘Speaking of writing. I’ve decided to do something with the screenplay.
I’ll make the revisions we talked about, and then I’d like to send it to a few producers.
See if there’s any interest.’ Hearing Anna praise the Christmas play, and then seeing her so impressed that he’d written a screenplay, had prompted him to take another look at it last night.
It might be rubbish, but he’d never know if he didn’t try.
‘You know I thought it was good, and I’m happy to hear you’re finally going to let me help you with it.’ Pete steepled his fingers. ‘But I’m going back to my original question. Who is she?’
Briefly Dan considered lying, but if you couldn’t trust your manager with the truth, it was time for a new manager. ‘Anna Dalton.’
It took a few moments for the name to register with Pete. Dan knew the moment it did, because a look of acute disappointment settled over the man’s face. ‘Christ, Dan. I thought we agreed that wasn’t going to happen.’
‘You told me starting anything would be crazy. I told you I knew that. At no point was there an agreement that I wouldn’t.’
‘The agreement was implied,’ Pete retorted. ‘If your manager tells you starting something is stupid, most sane people would agree that’s a good enough reason not to start it.’
Dan tried a smile. ‘I’m not most people.’
‘Neither are you sane,’ Pete muttered grumpily. ‘For God’s sake don’t let the press get wind of this. That’s all I ask.’
The request gave Dan an uncomfortable moment. He hadn’t discussed keeping the weekend secret with Anna, and even if he had, there was Maisie, who would probably have told the whole school of her weekend by now. ‘I don’t intend to issue a press release on it.’
Pete glared at him. ‘You didn’t intend telling anyone about the five occasions you were snapped leaving nightclubs with a multitude of different women in tow either. But you were.’
‘Multitude is pushing it.’ But he was ashamed of his behaviour, and knew Pete was only telling it how he saw it.
‘Look, I know what you’re saying. I didn’t intend to start anything with Anna.
The last thing I want is her dragged into my PR mess, but .
. .’ He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.
‘But I hadn’t reckoned on her being so attractive.
So funny. So bright. So entertaining. So—’
‘I get the picture,’ Pete cut in, giving his head a despairing shake. ‘I just hope you know what you’re doing. She’s got a daughter, hasn’t she? I’m sure she mentioned one.’
‘Yes. Maisie’s eight.’
‘And is there an ex-husband?’
‘Anna’s a widow. Chris died five years ago.’
Pete let out a long, slow breath. ‘Bloody hell, this gets worse. You’re having a fling with a widow who has a kid.’
Temper flashed. ‘I’m not having a fling.’
‘No, then what would you call it? What do you think will happen when you no longer volunteer at the school? When the next part comes along? Are you still going to be heading up the motorway to play happy families?’
Now he wasn’t just annoyed, he was angry. ‘Butt out, Pete. You’re my manager, not my damn mother.’ Though his mother had hardly cared less about which woman Dan was dating. Only about the part he was playing.
Pete exhaled again, rubbing at his forehead. ‘Okay, okay. Sorry.’
Dan’s posture went from rigid to moderately tense. ‘I know you’re only looking out for me, but I don’t want to talk about this. What I feel for Anna is too new. I don’t know what will happen. I only know if you ask me to stop seeing her, I’ll say no.’
Pete gave him a small smile. ‘Just no? Not piss off? Or—?’
‘Just no. The rest I’ll keep in my head. Or perhaps say out loud when I’m pushing the pin into the voodoo doll I keep of you.’
‘Right.’ Pete let out a huff of laughter. ‘A bit disconcerting to know you have a doll in my image at home but okay, that seems a good place to end the conversation.’ He shuffled some papers on his desk. ‘Did you see the press release?’
‘Yep, looks fine to me. As long as Anna’s okay with it, let’s put it out there and see if we get any interest.’
‘Of the right variety,’ Pete added dryly. ‘Please God there won’t be any reporters crazy enough to believe actor Daniel Ramsey would start an affair with the good lady head. The respectable, widowed lady head who has a daughter at the same school—’
‘You’ve made your point,’ Dan interrupted, rising to his feet. Usually he enjoyed his catch-up meetings with Pete, but not today. Today he’d had enough.
‘Hey, where are you off to in such a rush?’ Pete demanded. ‘What about the effusive thanks you owe me? There aren’t many British TV actors who get an all-expenses paid trip to LA to try out for a Hollywood movie.’
‘You’re right.’ Solemnly Dan walked round Pete’s desk and dropped down on one knee. ‘I, Daniel Ramsey, bestow on you, Pete Mackintosh, my eternal gratitude and everlasting love.’ He jumped back to his feet. ‘Happy?’
Pete eyed him carefully. ‘I thought it would make you happy.’
And now Dan felt like an ungrateful git.
‘Sorry. I was happy, I am happy. It’s just .
. .’ He shrugged, not knowing how to word the feelings churning inside him.
He’d been excited about the audition when Pete had phoned that Tuesday night.
No, excited was the wrong word. He’d been buoyed by the knowledge someone had considered him good enough to audition for it.
Following his axing from Love Surgery, and the subsequent run of rejections for TV parts, an audition for a part in a major Hollywood movie — even a relatively small role — had been a welcome confidence boost.
But while waiting his turn at the audition, the buzz hadn’t been there. Maybe because he’d known his chances of getting the part were slim — there were bigger names than his on the audition list. Or because his love of acting, never passionate at its peak, was fading with age.
Or maybe because he’d known he was letting the school down. Letting Anna down.
‘How did it go?’ Pete asked, still with that watchful expression.
‘Good, I think.’ Bizarrely, because he’d known he wasn’t going to get the part, he’d been more relaxed than usual. He actually felt he’d nailed it.
‘So why the long face?’
‘No long face. I’m just not getting my hopes up. I’ve not exactly been inundated with callbacks recently.’
‘You’re temporarily out of favour here, which we’re working on, but over in Hollywood, I doubt they read the British tabloids unless the headline has the name of a royal in it.’
‘Prince Charming I am not. Though I might be Baron Hardup if I can’t land a part soon.’
It was a depressing note to end on, yet as Dan made his way towards his car, it was hard to feel too down. Not when he had two days in Riddlescomb Primary School to look forward to. And if he was lucky, a night like Saturday night.
The memory brought a spring to his step, and an undeniable pulse of arousal. Once she’d overcome her doubts, pushed her memories to one side, Anna Dalton had been sexy as sin.
He couldn’t wait for a repeat.