John nodded. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He still hadn’t told her about the deal with her ex-husband. But why talk about Tom Melton when he didn’t have to? John had let go of his prior indignation about her taking a job from her ex. Ideals were one thing, but paying rent was another. He would find a good time to tell her about the option while they were in Rome.

Anna pulled her cap lower before closing her laptop. “Uh, thanks for not saying anything about the alley and everything.”

“Who do you think I am?”

“What?” She glanced over at him.

“Did you really think—” He rolled his tongue in his cheek. “Did you really think I was going to make fun of you and use it to undermine your authority?”

“I just—”

“I don’t kiss and tell.” She has to believe that, right? If she didn’t, then she hadn’t been paying attention. He should have let it go by now. But watching her direct this movie had only made him like her more. She was one of the best directors he had worked with.

“Well, I appreciate it.” Anna gave a half-hearted laugh. “The next three and a half weeks are going to be difficult enough without, uh, additional complications.”

Unbidden, those complications came to mind—thoughts of hanging out with her again, drinking beer, talking about movies, and something more. He wanted to get her hair out from under that cap, and he wanted more of her hands gripping his skin and her breathy moans in his ear. He took a deep breath.

“Well, you weren’t interested in anything else, so...” John cursed. He had told himself over and over again he wouldn’t mention it. There was no reason to have a conversation about why she didn’t want to go out with him. The differences in their circumstances were obvious enough.

“I wasn’t sure you actually wanted to...” Anna made a vague gesture toward herself.

“Go out with an attractive woman who likes to drink beer and doesn’t have terrible taste in movies—”

“Gee, thanks.”

“—who’s going to make this a halfway decent movie about a six-hundred-year-old vampire and his girlfriend? It’s not complicated.”

“I’m thirty-five, divorced, and I live out of a suitcase. I mean, I couldn’t pay for two beers.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you out if I didn’t like you. Who does that? I’m a pretty straightforward guy. You didn’t figure that out?”

Anna smothered a smile. “I got a general impression.”