Hours had clearly passed more quickly than expected, and she found that more than a little disorienting. Vic was a deft conversationalist, managing to be engaging, open, and most shockingly, relatable. Whatever charm school she’d attended had certainly done a stellar job. Sophia wouldn’t have thought it possible for her to forget where she was and who she was speaking to, but a time or two, she almost did.

The thought must have caused her to frown, but thankfully her hostess misread the root of her expression.

“There are actual barrels of wine in the cellar. If you’d like, I could fetch some.”

“From a barrel in your cellar?” She shook her head, once again hyperaware of her surroundings. “No, thank you.”

“We don’t keep alcohol on this floor during tourist season,” Vic said. “Too many people were too keen to nick a bottle of gin from the duke in the past, but it’d be no trouble to bring some up.”

“No, honestly, I don’t often drink while filming, and we start principal photography tomorrow.” She stated another fact that should’ve occurred to her sooner.

“So, what you’re saying is you’re about to become infinitely busier?”

“That’s an understated way of putting it. Honestly, this night has been lovely, but . . .”

“It’s not likely to happen again,” Vic finished for her. “I understand.”

Sophia bit her lip, not sure she really did. She hadn’t come here intending to enjoy a social evening. Of course, she’d never been blind to Victoria’s interest or her physical appeal, but rich, beautiful women were nothing new in her sphere, at least not over the last few years. The combination of sizzle and sparkle was the stuff Hollywood was built on, but it rarely came with any substance behind the special effects. She hadn’t expected Vic to pose any more of a distraction than any of the others.

“If you need to take your leave now, I understand that as well,” Vic offered.

“Do you?”

“Of course. Far be it from me to keep an artist from her work. I only hope you were able to get enough of a feel for the lighting in this room to satisfy your earlier concerns.”

For a second the words didn’t even make sense, and Sophia had to make a conscious effort not to let it show while she processed the statement.

She snuck a quick glance at the large, elaborate chandelier overhead, then another out the window at the now fully sunken sun. That’s why she’d come and why she’d stayed. Her chest tightened so swiftly she had to draw in an extra breath to expand it again. It was one thing to be pleasantly surprised by someone’s ability to kill time comfortably. It was another to get so distracted she’d forgotten her reason for needing to kill time in the first place.