Page 166 of The Nanny and the Hothead
“I can’t do this without you. Are you in? I could use your help?”
With his shoulders back and his chin held high, Seth looked like a new man. “You can count on me, Mitch.”
And he could. He knew the guy would have his back.
“Is this whole plan prep starting now?” Raz asked.
“Yeah, dude, it is!” he answered. “Don’t you feel the momentum of the moment?”
“Right, right! I do. Fight for love, blah, blah, blah. I’m just bloody hungry.” Raz gestured to Landon and Rowen. “These blokes dragged me out of the gym and didn’t even give me a second to grab a protein shake.”
Mitch chuckled. “There’s an organic market not far from here that delivers. I’ll put in an order and get enough food to make grilled cheese sandwiches. While we wait, I’ll fill you all in on the plan.”
“You mean cheese toasties,” Raz countered with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Call it whatever the hell you want!” He went to the cabin’s door and held it open. “Come on! We don’t have a minute to lose. And Ines,” he added, pinning the woman with his gaze.
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Mitch?”
“Call Gwen. Tell her I need an extension—just a few days. If what I think is about to happen actually happens, I’ll have one hell of an ending for the book.”
“On it,” the woman replied with a sly grin, slipping her cell from her bag.
He removed the orange heart from his pocket and grinned. With his friends by his side and love, so much love and gratitude in his heart, he was a man on a mission.
A mission to get the girl.
But the clock was ticking. And failure wasn’t an option.
It was Mr. Cheesy Forever 2.0 or bust time!
Twenty-Eight
Charlotte
“Charlotte Ames,are you visiting the UK for business or for pleasure?”
Charlotte took in the busy customs area, buzzing with voices and chatter. It was almost six in the evening, London time, and she’d done it. She’d made it to the UK! She tucked a lock of auburn hair behind her ear, then glanced at her camera bag. “I’m here for work. I’m a photographer.”
“Is that so?” the customs agent replied, surveying her from behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
“Yes, I’m here for a professional workshop.”
She exhaled a grateful breath and grinned. She’d taken the leap.
She’d emailed the admissions clerk at the Royal College of Art and confirmed her spot for the workshop with one caveat. She declined their offer to pay for her airfare. Instead, she’d splurged on herself. With Harper, Libby, and Penny cheering her on, she’d purchased a first-class seat on a direct flight from Denver to London.
And hello, ample legroom!
Between the delicious meals and the seat that reclined into a bed, she’d landed in the historic city rested and raring to go.
“It’s being hosted by the Royal College of Art,” she added.
“Brilliant! The college isn’t far from Chelsea and Kensington Park. Make sure you don’t work too hard and get to take in the city. Enjoy your time in London,” the man replied, adding the first stamp to her passport.
“I will,” she replied. And she meant it. She was ready, so ready to open herself to new possibilities, to reach for the stars. She was nobody’s mermaid to push around. She knew her worth. And she understood her heart.
“All right, next,” the man called, waving a couple forward as she sailed out of the customs area and headed for the baggage claim.
