“I’m okay. I’m stronger than I look.” She flashed him a cocky grin then turned.

He leant back on the wall, the way he had been when waiting for her, and watched her walk down the corridor away from him. She had such a sassy roll to her hips and her hair hung low, swinging left to right with each pace.

She turned the corner towards reception, and he let out a sigh. It was time to go back to Grant and finish the editing. They were on the final, final stages and he hoped to get it wrapped up and delivered to the board by the end of the day, tomorrow lunchtime at the latest.

All the more reason to celebrate with Megan tonight. It had been a long, gruelling project.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he tugged it out. The screen flashed up with the name Rue Skimmer—his boss back in LA.

“Hey, Rue, how are things?”

“James, good to catch you, never know what damn time it is over there.”

“It’s midday. You must be up early.”

“Yeah, Diane’s got me on some crazy-assed health kick which means a power smoothie at the crack of dawn. Hopefully it won’t last long but I’ve learnt it’s easier to go along with it and let these fads run their course than try to resist.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It’s not. But it does mean I can make a few calls.” He paused. “How’s it going over there in London? Poor Choices nearly wrapped?”

“Yep, should have it to you within hours.”

“You pleased with it?”

“Yes, it’s got to the heart of the matter for sure. Some powerful interviews and images.”

“Great, that’s why we pay you.”

James thought he heard him drinking. No doubt his power smoothie.

“And so,” Rue went on, “you and Grant are coming straight back to LA, right?”

“Well…” Thoughts of Megan went through James’ mind. If he hadn’t met her he’d likely be on the first plane out of London, needing sun, sea and the LA vibe, but now…now things were different. He wanted, no, needed to be with her. Wherever in the world Megan Rose was, was where he wanted to be, for now at least.

“Good, book on the first plane back. I need you to stand in for Leon Walder as of Monday, he’s gone AWOL.”

“Leon Walder?” James rubbed his forehead. Leon Walder directed low-brow documentaries and used Hollywood stars and starlets to present them. The last one being about boob-job botches and featuring ditzy blonde one-hit wonder, Daisy Gardner. James had watched it, but only because it had been on when he’d been catching up on some paperwork and he’d wanted to know what all the fuss was about Leon’s series—he still didn’t know.