Lessons of a Lowcountry Summer (18 page)

Head lowered, Brandon asked, “How about tonight?”

Noelle walked over and stood next to Christian. “Please, Miss Hope.”

She stared at the three teens, trying not to laugh. There was desperation in Noelle's voice, and Brandon was hard-pressed to meet her gaze. “Does Theo know I'm invited for dinner?”

Sighing, Christian stared out over her head. “We may as well tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He looked sheepish. “We're trying to get you and our brother together.”

Hope's lips twitched in amusement. “Does he know this?” All three nodded. “Why do you think Theo needs your help?”

Noelle's eyes were misty. “All he does is write. And I know he likes you, because he told me he did.”

“He's getting old and he's going to need someone to take care of him.” It was Christian's turn to offer his rationale.

She wanted to tell them that Theo wasn't old. And even when he did get old he still would not have a problem attracting women. The Anderson children inviting her to dinner without Theo's knowledge validated his claim that his brothers and sister did have boundary issues.

“How do you think Theo would react if he knew you guys were here hatching a plot to set him up with me?”

Brandon stared at his brother, then his sister. “I'm certain he wouldn't like it.”

Hope decided it was better not to tell them that she and Theo had plans to see each other the following evening. “I won't tell if you won't. But, on the other hand, if your brother likes me, then I'm certain he will ask me out.”

Noelle gave her a skeptical look. “Are you sure?”

Hope smiled at her. “Very sure.”

“My brother is really cool.”

“I'm sure he is.”

“Does that mean you like him?”

“Yes, I like him.” Christian and Brandon, grinning from ear to ear, exchanged high fives.

“Does that mean you're coming for dinner, Miss Hope?”

“Not tonight, Noelle.”

“When?”

Hope tugged gently on the girl's braided hair. “Perhaps we can all get together Sunday afternoon. If it doesn't rain, then I'll cook outdoors.”

Her answer seemed to satisfy the trio. She stood on the porch watching them as they made their way down to the beach. Within minutes they became smaller and smaller until they disappeared.

She did not envy Theo. Not only were his charges willful but they were also determined to get him a girlfriend. And she knew they would be formidable opponents if they decided a woman wasn't worthy of their brother.

Well, she wasn't too worried about the Anderson siblings, because her association with Theo would not extend beyond the summer. She had come to McKinnon to write and heal, not become involved with a man.

 

 

H
ope stepped out
onto the porch. Turning to her right, she saw Theo sitting on the rocker, hands dangling over the curved arms. There was something about the way the diffused light shadowed his face that reminded her of a scene from a classic Orson Welles film. The sound of the screen door hitting the frame caught his attention and brought him to his feet.

She smiled. “How long have you been waiting?”

Theo slipped his hands into the pockets of his black linen slacks. He hadn't realized it before, but he loved the sound of Hope's voice. It was low, husky, and sensual.

“I got here a little after six.”

“Why didn't you ring the bell?”

“I didn't want to rush you. Sitting here and staring at the ocean is wonderful for the soul. I believe Longfellow said it best: ‘My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me.' ”

Smiling, Hope closed the distance between them. “You and my sister would get along famously. She loves poetry.”

Theo removed his hands from his pockets and began snapping his fingers. “I used to spend so many hours hanging out in Bay Area coffeehouses listening to poetry readings that I finally got a job in one.”

“There once was a little coffeehouse along Factor's Walk that hosted poetry readings.”

“What happened to it?”

“It closed down, then reopened as a club for a predominantly college crowd. The weekend entertainment usually features up-and-coming bands.”

Theo shook his head. “Too loud.”

She gave him a saucy look. “I've heard it said that ‘if it's too loud, then you're too old.' ”

He glared at her under lowered lids. “You got old jokes, too.”

“No. I'm probably right behind you.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-eight.”

Hope shivered despite the summer heat, her gaze moving slowly over Theo's clean-shaven profile. They shared a smile as he led her to his vehicle. Hiking up the hem of her dress, she stepped up into the SUV after he opened the door for her. She was seated and belted-in when he slipped behind the wheel beside her.

Theo started up the Lexus and drove toward the ferry landing for the 6:55 sailing.

 

Theo slipped
into his suit jacket after he'd maneuvered into the parking lot at Elizabeth and Thirty-seventh. The restaurant was housed in a bleached-beige Palladian–style mansion. He waited for the maitre d' to seat Hope before he sat opposite her.

“I've heard the food is excellent.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Have you eaten here before?”

“No. But my agent recommends it highly. Jeff may exaggerate about a lot of things, but I have to give him credit when it comes to his dining recommendations. So far, he's never been wrong.”

Staring at Theo through lowered lids, Hope said, “I'm certain he's pleased having you as his client.”

“We are a good team.” His statement lacked modesty.

“How long has he represented you?”

“He's my first and only agent.”

The sommelier handed Theo the wine list, and he and Hope selected a blush to complement entrées of pecan-crusted chicken and cinnamon-spiced shrimp. They raised their glasses in a toast.

Hope touched her glass to Theo's. “To McKinnon Island.”

“McKinnon Island,” he repeated.

She took a sip of the chilled wine. It was excellent. She put down the glass. “You should've won an Oscar for your last script.”

Theo lifted a broad shoulder under his jacket. “It doesn't matter much whether I do or don't win. Just being nominated is reward enough.”

“How many scripts do you write a year?”

“It varies.” He took another sip of wine. “I've done as many as six. One year I completed only one.”

“All originals?”

“No. Some of them are adapted from novels or short stories. The two Academy Award nominations were original screenplays.”

“Can you tell me about your television project?”

Theo reached across the space of the table and held her hands. “Can I trust you not to disclose what I'm going to tell you?”

She leaned forward. “Yes.”

The word slipped off her lips just as a bright flash of light blinded her. She blinked, attempting to clear her vision. Theo had released her fingers and was on his feet. She glimpsed the back of a short man as he scurried away.

Hope glanced up to find Theo frowning down at her. “Who was that?” she asked.

He shook his head and sat down. “I don't know.”

Their waiter came over to the table. “I'm sorry, Mr. Howell, Miss.”

Theo waved him away. “It's all right.” The man backed away from the table. Theo directed his attention to Hope, noting her expression. She wasn't pleased. “Did being photographed upset you?”

She closed her eyes for several seconds. “I'm more annoyed than upset. People usually ask permission before they take my picture.” She had made it a practice to keep her private life private. No one knew she had been dating Kendall except family members and close friends.

“Do you give consent?”

Sighing, she nodded. “Usually I do.”

“How has your life changed since you've become a celebrity?”

“I don't see myself as a celebrity.”

“How do you see yourself?”

“More as a public figure.” She gave Theo a long, penetrating stare. “You're the celebrity.”

He lowered his head and smiled, the gesture reminding her of Brandon. “No, I'm not. The difference between you and I is where we live. The paparazzi are as thick in L.A. as a swarm of hornets. They make their name and money from taking photographs of the suspecting and unsuspecting. At first it bothered me, then I learned to ignore them, because the tabloids are going to print what they want. Smut and gossip sell.”

“You're saying that you don't care if someone photographs you?”

“It's not that I don't care. I've chosen a career that at times is high profile, and I've learned to accept all of the advantages and disadvantages that go along with it. As long as they don't invade my privacy or slander me, I could care less.”

“Two years ago there were photos of you in
People, Entertainment Weekly,
and film footage of you on E! Entertainment Television. What she did not say was that each time he'd been photographed it had been with a different woman.

“Pre-Oscar hype,” he said disdainfully.

The waiter set their entrées on the table. She concentrated on eating her chicken and wilted spinach. She watched Theo watching her each time she glanced up. Whenever their gazes met, both shared a secret smile.

Theo put down his water goblet and dabbed his mouth with the cloth napkin. “Have you thought about going into television?”

Hope touched the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “No.”

“How about radio?”

“I've been offered a spot at an Atlanta-based talk radio station.”

Theo leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which one?”

“WLKV.”

“I know the program manager.”

“Derrick Landry?”

He nodded. “I met Derrick about ten years ago. He was in television at that time. He wanted me to do scripts for daytime soaps, but I turned him down because I preferred screenplays.” Lowering his arms, Theo leaned over the table. “Would you like me to put in a good word for you?”

Hope pulled her lower lip between her teeth, wondering how much she should tell Theo about her medical dilemma. She then decided to be truthful. “That won't be necessary because, I have the job.”

He straightened. “When do you start?”

“I'm not certain.”

“You have the position, yet you don't know when you're going to start?”

“I have a medical problem I have to resolve before I relocate to Atlanta.” Her gaze shifted and met his. “I have endometriosis.”

He frowned. “What's that?”

She explained the symptoms of the disease.

“Don't you… isn't there an alternative to you having a hysterectomy?”

Hope would've laughed at his expression if the subject matter hadn't been so serious. It was a combination of shock and confusion. “Yes.”

“What is it?”

A smiled played at the corners of her mouth. “Have a baby.”

He silently mouthed the three words. “You mean get pregnant?”

“I believe that's the same as having a baby, Theo.”

Theo decided to ignore her flippant retort. “When were you first diagnosed?”

“About seven weeks ago. I'm scheduled to return to the doctor early October. He has to reevaluate me and determine if I'll have to undergo a procedure to remove the lesions.”

“This procedure would not be a hysterectomy?”

“No.”

“Do you want children, Hope?”

The flickering light from a candle on the table threw shadows over her face. She glanced down. “Yes, I do.”

“Why haven't you had a child?”

Sighing softly, she said, “There are a few reasons. I'm not married and I haven't met the man I'd want to father my children.”

“Are you saying that you'd
have
to be married before you'd consider bearing a child?”

She gave him a level look. “I'm saying that I'd
prefer
to be married before I have a child. If not married, then at least engaged.”

Theo shook his head. “I can't believe some man hasn't made you his wife.”

“What's not to believe? I could say the same thing about you,” Hope countered. “Why isn't there a Mrs. Theodore Howell?”

“There's no Mrs. Howell because all the women I date are girls. Los Angeles is filled with twenty-, thirty-, and sometimes forty-something-year-old
girls.”

“Perhaps you should consider relocating.”

“Where would I go?”

“New York, Atlanta, Chicago, Denver. You'd have lots of options.”

Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Big Apple Diva, 'Lanta Hottie, Chi-town Sweetie, and Mile High Honey. You really think I'd find the love of my life in one of these cities?”

“Only if you are really looking for a wife, Theo.”

He shook his head. “The truth is that I'm not looking because I don't need a wife, nor do I want children.”

“Why not, Big Poppa? Are you having too much fun to settle down?”

“I
had
fun.” He winked at her. “This Big Poppa has sworn off
girls
for the next five years to take care of my brothers and sister.”

Hope laughed. “Will you be able to survive your sacrifice?”

“You don't think I can do it, do you?”

She sobered. There was something in Theo's eyes that dared her to challenge his declaration that he would devote the next five years of his life to his siblings. “I don't know you well enough to judge whether you can or can't.”

Reaching into his jacket's breast pocket, Theo withdrew a pen. He picked up the paper napkin next to his wineglass. “Are you online?”

“Yes. Why?”

He handed her the napkin and pen. “Write down your e-mail address. I'll e-mail you the day Noelle enters college to let you know if I succeed.”

Hope shook her head. “You're kidding.”

“Write, Hope,” he urged softly.

She wrote her e-mail address on the napkin, then handed it and the pen to Theo. He stared at what she had written before he folded the square of paper and secreted it in his pocket. He printed his e-mail address on another napkin and slid it across the table. Hope put it in her purse.

The waiter returned with dessert menus, and they both ordered sorbet. Their conversation shifted to less personal topics. Two hours after they'd entered the restaurant, they left, knowing a little bit more about the other.

The ferryboat ride back to McKinnon Island was accomplished in silence as they leaned against the rail, watching streaks of red and orange fade against the encroaching navy blue sky. The silence was not broken until Theo stood with Hope on her porch, holding hands.