The Wedding Gift

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Cut! Get ready for the basic skills section."

After the cameras were turned off, Andrew shook the hand of the local chef he was cooking with-whose name he frankly couldn't remember-and moved off to the side of the set. He checked his phone as discretely as he could.

Nothing. No texts, no emails, no phone messages.

Just like the last three times he'd checked.

He put his phone away as Sandy brought over a couple of women in their early twenties who proclaimed themselves his biggest fans and asked if they could get a photo with him. For the first time in a long time, Andrew had to force himself to go through with the whole being-gracious-with-the-fans thing. He stood between the two of them while Sandy took their picture. One of them slipped a piece of paper into his hand and when Andrew looked, he found that it had a phone number written on it.

Sandy escorted the two young women off the set and then returned to speak with Andrew. She arrived just as he was throwing the telephone number away.

"What's up with you today?"

"Leave it alone, Sandy. In fact, why don't you go find something useful to do? Go get me a coffee, or something."

She simply raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, knowing he was behaving like the worst boss on the planet. "I'm just a bit-"

"Pigheaded? Idiotic? Monumentally-"

"I could still fire you, you know."

Sandy rolled her eyes. "So are you going to tell your long-suffering assistant what's wrong, or do I have to guess?"

Andrew smiled at that. It was about the first time he'd smiled all day, except while on camera, but that didn't count.

"It's that chef down at The Rose Chalet, isn't it? The one you're so gooey-eyed over."

"Sandy, I'm a full-grown man. I don't get gooey-eyed."

Another eye roll came his way. "You've been checking your cell phone more often than a teenage girl praying the star quarterback will call her again after their hour together in the backseat of his car."

He hadn't realized that it was that obvious. It was embarrassing. Sandy had hit the nail on the head: he was acting like a jilted teenager.

Why hadn't Julie called? He'd thought things were going great. The night they'd spent together had been amazing, but it was more than that. The morning after-that had been the really surprising part. They'd solidified their connection then. He'd been sure of it.

Yet here they were again with Julie ignoring his messages. It was as bad as it had been after they'd kissed for the first time. Worse, actually. Avoiding him after their kiss had been nerves, a bump in the road.

Whereas this silence felt more like a full-on retreat.

"Why don't you go see her?" Sandy asked. "Talk things through. Isn't that what the magazines always say? Besides, that would be so much better than getting drunk and having a meaningless fling with someone on the rebound."

Sandy was right. Talking things over with Julie had worked before and, besides, he probably needed to go down to The Rose Chalet anyway.

Not that he needed any excuses. Andrew had told Julie the last time they'd seen one another that if she didn't return his calls, he would be coming to get answers.