I walk over to the front window. “Rhododendron, maybe. Is it out here by—” When I look outside, though, I jump back from the window with a “Whoops!”
“Not a rhododendron?” Elliot asks.
All my nerves snap alert. “There’s someone watching your house.”
“What?” Elliot walks over to the window, but I pull him back.
“With binoculars!” I hiss. “In a car across the street.”
“Oh, crap.” Elliot creeps over to the side window, peering through the slit in the curtains. “There’s definitely someone staring at my house,” he confirms. “I bet you it’s paparazzi.”
I shake my head. “This isn’t good.”
“We never open the front curtains. Maybe the person will get bored and leave.” He looks to me. “There’s an easy way out the back alley. It takes you a block over, so you’ll be able to exit without being spotted.”
I nod, glad to hear it, but it hardly eases my concerns.
“Damn it,” Elliot says. “Everything felt like it was finally going in the right direction, but my mistake at the rally must have stirred extra attention. I’ve got a full day of illustration work ahead, and now I’m going to be distracted by this.”
I think for a moment. “My place is private. I can enter through the rear garage, and my condo isn’t visible from ground level. Would you like to come over?”
“For the day?”
“Or longer, I guess.” I push my hand through my hair. “I’ll be at the office, of course, so you could have the condo to yourself. And I have plenty of leftovers. I’d be happy to offer you some support while you’re working so hard.”
Elliot drapes his hands over my shoulders. “That does sound nice. And very generous of you, Hank.”
I nod, confident in the plan and eager to get away from the paparazzi outside. “Good. You’ll come to my place.”
Elliot brushes a kiss over my lips. “I’ll pack a bag.”
