Page 70 of Doc Hollywood

Clara nodded and clambered into her car. She was exhausted, although that was normal for her, but she wasn’t missing the opportunity to spend as much time with Taylor as possible.

CHAPTER 19

“Take the crème brulée away from me. I feel sick,” Clara grumbled, staring balefully down at the half-empty dessert pot, bitterly regretting the moment Taylor declared that he wanted another one, and she agreed with him, getting one as well.

“Hand it over. I’ll eat it.” Taylor stood up from the seat he had been lounging on and came over to her sofa, sitting down beside her and grabbing the delicious dessert off her.

“It’s all yours.” Clara’s eyes widened slightly when he didn’t bother to retrieve his own spoon, instead taking hers and eating with it. It all felt so intimate.

“This is the best,” he groaned around a spoonful of food, then slapped his hand over his mouth when some of the crème brulée escaped as he spoke, landing on the coffee table in front of them.

Clara snorted with laughter and slapped her own hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright. You’re not the one who embarrassed themselves in front of a girl he’s trying to impress by spittingfood out.” Taylor dropped his head down, but it didn’t disguise the flush that spread up his face.

Clara giggled again before she fully comprehended what he had said. “Sorry. What now?” She turned in the seat to face him, her knees now touching his jean-clad thigh.

Taylor’s face lifted to her, and their eyes locked. “I like you.”

“Oh,” Clara mumbled, her cheeks flushing.

“I enjoy spending time with you. I look forward to your messages. You’re trustworthy. Any of the pictures I’ve sent you could have earned you a lot of money if you sold them.” He leaned a little closer to her.

“Who would do that? That’s awful,” she sputtered, and a warm feeling spread through her when she remembered the collection of silly selfies, location shots, script pages and many, many other photos he had sent her.

“Exactly, it doesn’t even cross your mind to do that.” Taylor edged closer to her.

“Oh,” Clara said again. “I—“ She tried to muster the courage to say she liked him too, when there was a knock at the door of his suite and instead of saying that, she said, “Did you order more food?”

“No.” He shook his head, frowning at the door. “Ignore it. They’ll go away. So?” His eyebrows rose as he looked at her.

“I…” She tried again, willing the words to come out of her lips that she liked him too. But before she could get the nerve to say anything, the knocking on the door repeated, this time louder. “Are you sure you shouldn’t get that?”

“No. They’ll leave.” Taylor sounded confident, but then his phone rang. He leaned over and grabbed it off the table in front of them, showing her the screen that read ‘Devon’.

“Do you think that’s her knocking?” Clara gestured to the door, where someone was now pounding on it.

His eyebrows drew together in a frown and he sighed, “Probably.”

“You should answer,” Clara said, staring at the ringing phone in his hand.

Taylor sighed more deeply and answered his phone. “Hi Devon, what’s up?”

Clara strained her ears to hear what the actress said, but his phone was pulled too tightly against his head.

“You’re outside my room? I didn’t hear the door. I was in the bathroom.” His eyes widened in surprise and then locked with Clara’s when he repeated back. “Your manager is with you?”

Clara was on her feet, grabbing her handbag and gesturing towards the door; she should leave.

He shook his head vigorously, leaping to his feet. “Wait a couple of minutes. I’ll throw some clothes on and come answer the door.” Hanging up the phone, he stared down at Clara.

“I should leave?” It was half a question, half a statement.

“You can’t. You need to hide,” Taylor murmured.

“What?”

“You need to hide,” Taylor repeated, grabbing her hand and towing her towards the bedroom door.

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