As they each filled their plate, Mae asked, “So what had you so distracted when I walked in?”
“Distracted?” It took him a moment to recall what she was talking about.
“You had a very serious look on your face.”
“Oh, I was thinking about work.”
“Aren’t you supposed to relax? Isn’t this a vacation?”
He shook his head. “I came here to work.”
Was it his imagination or did Mae’s face visibly drain of color. “Um, what’s your assignment?” And then as though she realized that she might be prying, she said, “Sorry. I don’t mean to be pushy.”
“It’s okay. I’m doing a Christmas special. You know, a sort of Christmas around the world. I already did one in Ireland, Japan and now Austria. Well, that depends on if I ever find my camera crew after this storm.” He glanced out the window. “Hey, the snow is just flurries now.”
“That’s good, because let me tell you, there’s a ton of snow out there.” She sighed. “You know, I’ve worked up such an appetite that I could eat all of this food.”
“Go ahead.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Sure you can. In fact, I can make more.”
“Don’t tempt me. But really, I can’t.”
“Don’t tell me that you’re dieting.”
She shrugged. “Okay. I won’t tell you.”
“What does someone as beautiful as you have to diet for?” He wanted to tell her that she could stand to put on a few pounds, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t want her to take it the wrong way.
“So I fit in my clothes. But I think I can squeeze in a little more after that exercise this morning.” Her gaze met his. “You’re a really good cook.”
He continued to stare into her green eyes. “I’ve had a lot of experience.”
He didn’t bother to add that after his parents divorced, his mother wasn’t around much as she had to bounce between two and sometimes three jobs to make ends meet. And so he did the bulk of the cooking. And then with June, she didn’t know how to cook and so he’d taken on the role as he enjoyed creating delicious meals that were healthy and nutritious.
“If your job on television ever falls through, you could become a chef.”
He smiled at the compliment. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. It might come in handy.”
* * *
Now what was she supposed to do?
Serena stared out the window at the snowy landscape. They still hadn’t plowed open the road and there was no way that she could drive through three feet plus of snow. She would have to have a monster truck with chains on the tires and even then she doubted that she’d make it out of the driveway.
With a heavy sigh, she accepted that there was nothing she could do for now. Instead of wasting her energy worrying about Jackson’s presence, she needed to concentrate on writing a screenplay.
This was her chance to make a name for herself that had nothing to do with her looks or the legacy her two famous parents had left her. And time was running out because sooner than she’d like, she had to return to Hollywood to begin filming her next movie. The contract had been inked months ago and to back out at this late date would tarnish her name in the industry, not to mention the penalties she’d be subjected to for failure to perform.
But most of all, she took pride in standing by her word. When she said she’d do something, she did it. So not only would she do the movie, but she would also get this screenplay written over the holiday break—before she went back and faced the public scandal of her life.
She wanted to find a place on the second floor to write—away from Jackson. But she was still worried about him. His injury was serious, and he was overdoing things. Try as she might to keep him in bed, he never stayed more than five minutes at a time.
There was a desk with a lamp in the corner of the great room and that was where Serena took a seat with her laptop. This was one of those five-minute periods where Jackson was in the bedroom with his foot up. Gizmo was lying on a padd
ed bench next to the window, watching the snow blow around in between snoozes. Now was her chance to get some work done.