Chapter
Eight
“Are you ready to talk now?” Hope slid into the wrought iron chair across from Angelica and set the basket of food in front of her.
Angelica stared down at the food and sighed heavily. “Are you assuming my not eating is because of you?”
“In part.” Hope eyed her carefully, waiting for Angelica to pick up something to eat from the basket. Hope had ordered what she knew Angelica would like, avoiding the foods she was allergic to, but she wanted to make sure that she was actually going to consume food during this excursion. “Ange… you really need to eat something.”
“I know. It’s just so…unappetizing.” Angelica looked absolutely disgusted.
“Because it’s a sandwich?”
“Because it’s food,” Angelica answered, a small wrinkle in her nose.
It was honestly adorable, not that Hope would say that out loud, and definitely not now. Angelica needed to come to her own conclusions about what was happening between them. Hope pulled her own basket closer and pulled a chip out of it, letting it crunch when she bit into it.
“And yes, you were right.” Angelica sighed heavily again, but she did pick up the sandwich and take a bite of it. “We do need to talk.”
Sweet satisfaction hit Hope square in the chest. She smiled to herself as she took a bite of her own sandwich. She’d been pushing for this for weeks now, and Angelica had finally come around to seeing her point of view.
“Josef would like more tension and drama throughout filming. We need to find a way to create that.”
Hope’s heart fell. Okay, so what Angelica had actually meant was to talk about work, not them. Hope took another bite of her sandwich, taking a page from Angelica’s book and saying nothing.
“Renovations can cause drama, especially if they don’t go well, and we need to find a solution to better connect the hotel to the restaurant.” Angelica sipped her water, refusing to look up and meet Hope’s eyes.
Did she know that she was talking about something that they really didn’t need to discuss?
Hope popped another chip between her lips.
“We could open the wall.”
“Why aren’t you eating, Ange?”
Angelica halted. She looked directly into Hope’s gaze and then back down, her pale cheeks reddening.
“And don’t for one second try to convince me that this is a new habit since we started filming.” Hope ate another chip. “Honesty, remember?”
“I don’t know,” Angelica whispered. She pushed the basket of food away from her, stared at it for a few more seconds, and then pulled it back to her. She pulled out the cheese from the sandwich and picked at it slowly.
“You don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?”
“I don’t know,” Angelica repeated, looking Hope dead in the eye. “I’ve never known.”
“What do you mean never?”
Angelica leaned back in her chair and flicked her gaze from Hope’s eyes to her lips. “I’d rather talk about work.”
“I’m sure you would.” Hope took another bite of her sandwich. “I’d rather you eat.”
Angelica’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she did lean forward and take another bite. “When I’m stressed, I stop eating. I have for as long as I can remember.”
“And what’s stressing you out now? Because filming in Maine is nothing compared to Seattle.”
Angelica laughed lightly. “True.”
“Is it working with me?” Hope paused, looking Angelica over carefully. She wanted to see how she was going to react, how she was going to take that information in. And Hope wasn’t surprised when Angelica immediately tensed and held her breath.
