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Book: Playing for Love (Summer Beach Vets 1) - Escape Down Under by H.Y. Hanna
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Authors: H.Y. Hanna
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hit the big time. Not that he acts like some hot shot. You’d never guess the crazy money he’s making from the show, from the way he acts. He’s a really decent, modest guy.”
“Who’s probably still got paparazzi following him everywhere.” Sara shuddered. She wondered why she hadn’t seen any photographers at dinner last night. Come to think of it, Kylie hadn’t treated Craig all that deferentially, Sara admitted. Still, that didn’t mean anything. The feisty waitress would probably treat the President of the United States with the same irreverence!
“Actually, the paparazzi aren’t that welcome in Summer Beach,” said Ellie. “Craig might get photographed a lot if he goes down to Sydney, but up here, the people are pretty protective of their own and the paps have learnt to leave him alone.”
“Paps?”
“Paparazzi.” Ellie chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m turning Australian. They shorten everything here. You know—footy for football, barbie for barbecue.”
“Bickie for biscuit,” said Sara, remembering.
“You see? You’re turning native already.” Ellie smiled. “By the—”
The phone rang in the living room. Sara turned panicked eyes on Ellie.
“That might be Craig. He said he was going to call me today.” She twisted her hands. “Can… can you answer it? Tell him I’m out. I… I don’t want to talk to him. Oh, but ask him how that puppy is!”
Ellie gave her a look, but she went into the living room to answer the phone. Sara could hear the murmur of conversation. Five minutes later, Ellie came back.
“It was Craig. The puppy seems to be doing okay. I told him you’re busy. He left a number, said he was hoping to take you out for drinks this evening. He asked you to call him back if you’re free.” Ellie raised her eyebrows.
Sara shook her head violently. “I can’t.”
Ellie sighed. “It’s your call, Sara. But I hope you’re not making a terrible mistake. Craig isn’t Jeff. Don’t let the crap of one lousy man stop you from finding happiness with another.”
CHAPTER 10
Craig put the phone down and frowned. Something wasn’t right. Ellie had been pleasant and vague but he just didn’t buy it. Sara was busy? Busy doing what? Why did he get the feeling that she just didn’t want to talk to him?
He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one side of his living room and looked out. One of the best things about this modern, converted beach house perched at the top of the cliffs was the view out over the sea. With its four bedrooms, en-suite bathrooms, separate formal lounge and family living room, spacious dining room, sound-proofed study, and gleaming entertainer’s kitchen—not to mention the wraparound terrace that was bathed in all-day sunshine—this house was one of the premium properties on the east coast. When he had bought it, some had thought that it was the award-winning architectural design or elegant décor of the rooms or even the heated swimming pool that had swayed him. But it was none of those things—it was the view from the top of the cliffs. Craig would have paid the same sum just to live in a beach shack with that view. After a long day at work or filming, he always felt soothed when he returned home and looked out of his windows.
Not now, though. For once the view was giving him no comfort. Instead, he stared blindly at the horizon as he relived last night, trying to think of anything he had said that might have offended or upset Sara. He could come up with nothing—unless she had been upset with him for having to leave early. His mouth tightened. He had dated women like that before—women who had thrown a tantrum over his dedication to his work and career—and he had little patience with them. But Sara had seemed genuine when she had insisted that he should leave first. Somehow he didn’t think she was the type to kick up a fuss because their romantic dinner had been interrupted by an emergency.
So
“Who’s probably still got paparazzi following him everywhere.” Sara shuddered. She wondered why she hadn’t seen any photographers at dinner last night. Come to think of it, Kylie hadn’t treated Craig all that deferentially, Sara admitted. Still, that didn’t mean anything. The feisty waitress would probably treat the President of the United States with the same irreverence!
“Actually, the paparazzi aren’t that welcome in Summer Beach,” said Ellie. “Craig might get photographed a lot if he goes down to Sydney, but up here, the people are pretty protective of their own and the paps have learnt to leave him alone.”
“Paps?”
“Paparazzi.” Ellie chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m turning Australian. They shorten everything here. You know—footy for football, barbie for barbecue.”
“Bickie for biscuit,” said Sara, remembering.
“You see? You’re turning native already.” Ellie smiled. “By the—”
The phone rang in the living room. Sara turned panicked eyes on Ellie.
“That might be Craig. He said he was going to call me today.” She twisted her hands. “Can… can you answer it? Tell him I’m out. I… I don’t want to talk to him. Oh, but ask him how that puppy is!”
Ellie gave her a look, but she went into the living room to answer the phone. Sara could hear the murmur of conversation. Five minutes later, Ellie came back.
“It was Craig. The puppy seems to be doing okay. I told him you’re busy. He left a number, said he was hoping to take you out for drinks this evening. He asked you to call him back if you’re free.” Ellie raised her eyebrows.
Sara shook her head violently. “I can’t.”
Ellie sighed. “It’s your call, Sara. But I hope you’re not making a terrible mistake. Craig isn’t Jeff. Don’t let the crap of one lousy man stop you from finding happiness with another.”
CHAPTER 10
Craig put the phone down and frowned. Something wasn’t right. Ellie had been pleasant and vague but he just didn’t buy it. Sara was busy? Busy doing what? Why did he get the feeling that she just didn’t want to talk to him?
He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one side of his living room and looked out. One of the best things about this modern, converted beach house perched at the top of the cliffs was the view out over the sea. With its four bedrooms, en-suite bathrooms, separate formal lounge and family living room, spacious dining room, sound-proofed study, and gleaming entertainer’s kitchen—not to mention the wraparound terrace that was bathed in all-day sunshine—this house was one of the premium properties on the east coast. When he had bought it, some had thought that it was the award-winning architectural design or elegant décor of the rooms or even the heated swimming pool that had swayed him. But it was none of those things—it was the view from the top of the cliffs. Craig would have paid the same sum just to live in a beach shack with that view. After a long day at work or filming, he always felt soothed when he returned home and looked out of his windows.
Not now, though. For once the view was giving him no comfort. Instead, he stared blindly at the horizon as he relived last night, trying to think of anything he had said that might have offended or upset Sara. He could come up with nothing—unless she had been upset with him for having to leave early. His mouth tightened. He had dated women like that before—women who had thrown a tantrum over his dedication to his work and career—and he had little patience with them. But Sara had seemed genuine when she had insisted that he should leave first. Somehow he didn’t think she was the type to kick up a fuss because their romantic dinner had been interrupted by an emergency.
So
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