Page 133 of The Nanny and the Hothead
“But you haven’t let them know if you’ll attend. I told my friend it had to be an oversight with your schedule. I’ve noticed you on the news a few times when they’ve interviewed the chef from that food truck.”
“Me on TV?” Charlotte stammered.
“You weren’t the focus of the segment, but you were in the background. I assume you were hired to shoot the limited-time run of the food truck over there,” Professor Tran continued. “What a fantastic project for you! I’m delighted to see these opportunities coming your way.”
“Yes, it’s been hectic,” she answered as a cold prickling made its way down her spine.
“That certainly explains why you haven’t gotten back to the Royal College of Art. Would you like me to let them know for you? I’m quite close with several of the professors leading the workshop.”
This was worse than she could imagine.
“Let them know?” she rasped, a sickness setting in as her belly went topsy-turvy again.
The professor narrowed her gaze. “Yes, Charlotte, this was everything you wanted last we spoke.”
“What was everything Charlotte wanted?”
The knot in her belly twisted at the sound of that voice—his voice.
Mitch!
What was he doing here? He should be in the food truck. Her mouth went dry.
He couldn’t find out about the workshop—not like this. It would ruin everything!
Twenty-Three
Charlotte
Charlotte froze,praying a random lightning bolt would strike her to the ground. She examined the sky. And dammit, there wasn’t a cloud to be found.
Think! Think! Think!
She chanced a look at Penny—which didn’t do a thing to calm her frayed nerves. Her friend flashed her eyes that said,what the hell, Char?
But she didn’t have time to explain.
And what would she say if she did?
Things are going so well that I didn’t want to rock the boat?
That wasn’t right. It would be a food truck, not a boat. Oh, what did it matter!
Her heart was ready to pound itself out of her chest. “Hey there, Mitch! This is Professor Tran,” she prattled, sounding less like a competent photographer and more like an unhinged game show hostess.
Mitch nodded, then shook the woman’s hand. “Yes, Charlotte’s mentioned you. She admires your photography.”
“And I admire Charlotte’s work,” the professor replied, studying Mitch’s face.
She must recognize Mitch from the photo. That had to be it.
Double, triple, no, quadruple crap!
“Yes, I’m in for the workshop,” she blurted, pulling the professor’s attention away from Mitch.
“That’s great to hear,” the professor replied, a little taken aback. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.”
Charlotte peered at the ground. Since the stupid lightning bolt didn’t pan out, perhaps a sinkhole could swallow her up. Yes, a sinkhole! They’d have to pause the convo to extract her from the rubble. Yes, the rubble! She needed wreckage and destruction!
