Page 132 of The Nanny and the Hothead
“Is everything okay?”
Penny glanced at the food truck, then held her gaze. “I’m just going to say this. I’m the last person to tell you not to get involved with your boss. I mean,” she said, then held up her left hand and flashed a monstrosity of a diamond engagement ring. “But I want you to be careful. Don’t get me wrong. I can’t get over Mitch’s transformation. He’s like a different person. And it’s great to see him with Oscar. But you’re my friend, and when you fall, Char, you fall hard. You can lose yourself in a guy, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Charlotte reached out and squeezed her best friend’s hand. “I love you for worrying about me but, I’m—”
“Charlotte? Charlotte Ames?” came a voice in the crowd.
A voice she recognized.
Charlotte’s eyes went wide as a woman wove her way through the crowd. “Professor, it’s so nice to see you. What brings you to the Whitmore Carnival?”
She was trying to play it cool, but a pang of anxiety rippled through her body. This woman reminded her of what she’d been putting off for these last few weeks. She hadn’t responded to the acceptance email from The Royal College of Art. It wasn’t like she’d purposefully blown them off. She simply didn’t know how to respond to the email.
Please, please, please, don’t mention the workshop!
“My nephew goes to Whitmore. My sister and brother-in-law are out of town, so I’m on auntie duty this weekend,” the woman answered, and Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. If they could keep it about Whitmore, she might be in the clear.
Regaining her bearings, her gaze ping-ponged between the professor and Penny. “Professor Tran, this is my friend, Penny Fennimore.”
“Professor Tran?” Penny repeated as she shook the woman’s hand.Shit! Penny knew that she’d gone to speak to this very professor about the Royal College of Art workshop. Her stomach did a flip-flop. She hadn’t even told her friends she’d been accepted. But not all was lost! Maybe Professor Tran had forgotten about their meeting. It was weeks ago.
“I believe congratulations are in order,” the professor continued, beaming at her.
Oh crap! How could she know?
Charlotte’s mouth grew dry as her pulse kicked up. And then it hit her. The world of photography academia was a tight-knit group. She should have anticipated that Professor Tran would know someone at the Royal College of Art. But not in a million years did she think the professor would learn of her acceptance into the program. Then again, this might not be about the workshop. Perhaps Professor Tran had seen her working and assumed she’d been hired to photograph the event. Maybe that was why she was offering the kind words.
“I’m not sure I follow. What are the congratulations for?” she asked, playing dumb while doing her best to keep her voice even.
“On your acceptance to the London workshop intensive, of course,” the woman chimed.
“Oh,” Charlotte squeaked, feeling lightheaded. Was she about to pass out? That would certainly end the conversation. Or she could fake choking. No! What would she choke on—the air?
“A colleague of mine oversees admissions at the Royal College of Art. She saw my name on your application as a reference and shared the good news with me. And you were awarded a full-ride scholarship. I’m so happy for you! It’s such an accomplishment.”
It was exactly what she’d feared!
Breathe! Breathe! Breathe!
She could feel Penny’s eyes on her.
Act normal!
“Yes, it’s a real honor,” she answered, pasting a grin on her face.
“My colleague emailed a copy of the photo you submitted to me. It’s truly breathtaking, Charlotte. Why didn’t you share that portrait with me when we met?”
“I took it after I met with you,” she answered, her lips ready to split from smiling like a deranged beauty queen.
“My goodness,” the professor mused. “It didn’t take you long.”
“Long to do what?” Charlotte asked.
“To go back and remember why you chose to study photography. Sometimes, all it takes is one spark to tap into your potential,” the woman explained.
One spark. That’s what it had been—the spark of getting a glimpse of the man behind the hothead.
“Yes, one spark,” she answered, breathless, recalling everything about the moment she’d captured on the bench.
