happy for him, but she couldn’t help but feel even more lonely.
“I won’t let him define me,” Jack finished.
Charlotte wished she could be that strong. But she was a long way from not letting her upbringing define her.
Alec was right when he said she was angry. But she was also hurt. And she was also lonely. And being around the Hudsons, especially David, made her wonder if anybody in the world would ever choose her, ever truly love her, just for herself.
Alec saw Charlotte leave the great room. His initial reaction was to go after her, but Markus was still talking, and he was curious about her father, who was sitting off to one side, looking sullen as he watched his older brother through narrowed eyes.
Lillian had said good-night, and was being helped back to her room. Alec had been introduced to Isabella and Ridley Sinclair. Judging by their expressions and body language, he’d bet the affair rumors were true. He wondered if he should alert Kiefer. It wasn’t too late to sneak a tabloid reporter onto the property, or give them a heads-up on the location of the stars’ villa rental.
Markus had also introduced his sons Dev and Max. Both seemed hardworking and intelligent. Dev was planning to leave with his father and Lillian within the next few days. Max planned to stay to work with David on a daily basis. It was easy to see there was no love lost between Markus’s side of the family and his brother, David.
In fact, Alec wondered why David was directing the film at all, until he overheard Isabella comment on David’s artistic and dramatic vision. Apparently, vision was a difficult thing to come by in Hollywood. That would explain why everyone put up with Lars’s temperamental nature. Alec would have fired the man weeks ago.
At a lull in the conversation, Alec excused himself and approached David.
“Alec Montcalm.” He offered his hand.
David had the grace to stand up from the armchair in front of the stone fireplace. “David Hudson.”
“I understand you’re directing the film?”
“Is that all you understand?” David’s gaze slid to Markus; he was obviously wondering if his brother had been badmouthing him to Alec.
“Can I freshen your drink?” asked Alec, nodding to the near-empty glass.
David glanced down. “It’s the Glen Klavit. One ice cube.”
Alec gave a brief nod to a staff member, and indicated David’s glass. “I’ll have the same,” he told the waiter.
“A man with good taste in scotch,” David commented.
“I visited Klavit Castle last year,” Alec said conversationally. “Almost inaccessible, and damn cold. But there’s no better place on earth for distilling coastal whiskey.”
David nodded as the waiter presented their drinks on a silver tray.
“Charlotte and I were in London last week.” As a segue, it was a stretch, but Alec didn’t want to be at this all night.
“I was wandering through your pool house,” said David, as if his daughter’s name hadn’t even been mentioned. “And I was wondering, would you be open to a minor renovation?”
“We stayed at the Ritz,” said Alec. “Took in the Royal Ballet.”
David’s eyes narrowed, as if he was assessing Alec’s mental competence. “Uh, right. Always a treat. There’s a lighting problem with the pool house. We’d like to add a window in the front. When we pan left, we’re going to lose the natural light on Isabella, and the mood can’t be too somber. It’s the pivotal scene where Lillian and Charles pledge their love. I thought about backlighting.” David’s eyes lost focus. “But we’re going for realism, not some overly romanticized-”
“As long as you don’t use explosives,” Alec cut in.
David drew back with a frown, obviously missing the joke. “It’s a love scene.”
“I see.”
“It’s midway thought the script. The conflicts have been well set up, and the central characters are-”
“Sure,” said Alec, taking a bracing swig of the scotch, wishing he’d gone for something that was cask strength. “Put in a window.”
“That’s good,” said David with a distracted nod. “Then I can talk to wardrobe about Lillian’s hat.”
“Whatever,” said Alec, realizing Charlotte had nothing in common with her father.
He glanced across the room to where Jack was talking with his cousin Max. David and Jack both had dark hair and blue eyes. But there was nothing definitively similar about their appearances, either.
“We might need a few extra shooting days,” David put in. “I have Cece working on script revisions.”
“No problem,” said Alec. As long as Charlotte stuck around with them, the film crew could stay here as long as they liked.
Charlotte had missed breakfast. Exhausted from lack of sleep in Rome, London and Paris, and battling butterflies in her stomach at the proximity of all those Hudsons, she’d buried her face under the covers and dozed until nearly ten.
The house was quiet as she wandered into the kitchen, the noise from the film set filtered by the thick stone walls. Cece was in the breakfast nook, script pages spread out in front of her, with her two-year-old son, Theo, playing trains on the floor. Cece had recently revealed the fact that Theo was Jack’s son, making him Charlotte’s nephew.
For some reason, Cece and Theo weren’t nearly as intimidating as the rest of the clan. Maybe it was because they were new to the family.
“Good morning,” Charlotte offered, pouring herself a cup of coffee from the big island counter.
“Morning,” Cece returned with a smile, her brown hair flowing softly around her delicate face, coffee-toned eyes warm and welcoming.
Charlotte immediately relaxed, her stomach calming down for the first time in hours. “Am I disturbing you?”
Cece shook her head. “David’s being a jerk this morning. He can damn well wait for the new pages.”
Then she seemed to remember who Charlotte was. Her face flushed slightly. “Oops. Sorry.”
“For insulting the man who abandoned me and made my mother’s life a living hell?” Charlotte plunked down on the bench seat across from Cece. “Wow. Don’t know where that came from.”
“It was well earned. I hope it was cathartic.”
“I take it you and Jack have discussed our
“Jack and I have discussed quite a lot of things in the past couple of months.”
Charlotte was hit with an unwelcome pang of jealousy. She squelched it. “I’m glad you found each other,” she said in all honesty. “And I’m sorry I missed the wedding.”
“It was very short notice,” Cece allowed.
“We were in China,” Charlotte explained. “I couldn’t leave the ambassador.”
“Jack told me.” Her attention suddenly shifted. “Not in your mouth, sweetheart.”
Charlotte glanced down at Theo. His cherubic little face was scrunched up in a grin as he gnawed on a section of wooden train track.
“He’s adorable,” she told Cece.
“He looks just like his father,” said Cece, and Charlotte’s eyes suddenly burned.
She quickly blinked, raising her coffee for a sip to cover up. “Are you thinking about brothers or sisters?”
Cece smiled. “You bet. We’re a little behind on timing, but we’re planning to make it up in effort.”
Charlotte laughed. Jack’s children, growing up in a stable, loving home. It was a wonderful turn of events.
Two figures passed by the window outside. It was Max and his assistant, Dana Fallon.
“They’re moving around back today. Shots in the garden, I think,” said Cece.
Max shouted a question across the lawn to the assistant director. The man answered with hand gestures.
Dana started to say something, but Max strode away.
Charlotte caught an unguarded look of longing on Dana’s face.
“Oh, dear,” she whispered under her breath, cradling her warm, stoneware cup.
“I know,” said Cece. “She’s got it bad for Max.”
“Does he know?”
Cece shook her head. “The man is oblivious to everything but work. And she’s such a great girl.”
