She wished she knew how to answer that but she didn’t so she pushed on while he was seemingly amenable to her presence.
‘So that’s a yes then?’
There was another beat or two of intense regard before he threw back his head and laughed. ‘Only you,’ he said, rolling his head to the side as his laughter settled, ‘would turn a compliment into something completely different.’
His eyes settled on hers and even hooded in shadows, the intensity of their Roger Prendergast blueness pierced right through to her brain.
‘It would mean so much to them,’ she pressed. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know that you made a bunch of little old ladies happy?’
If Paige thought she had him, she was wrong. Oliver Prendergast decided to play hard ball instead. ‘I’ll trade you.’
She frowned. She didn’t like the sound of that but if it got her what she wanted then… ‘Okay. I’m listening.’
‘If I do this, you only practice that damn violin when I’m on the beach.’
Paige stifled a smile. Every time he winced during her practice sessions it felt like another little paper cut for Bella. ‘But I’m getting better. Pavarotti likes it so much, he jumps straight on his wheel when he hears it. It’s like he has his own personal workout orchestra.’
Oliver snorted. ‘I hate to be the one to break this to you but he gets on the wheel as soon as you start up that bloody racket so he can drown you out.’
She suspected Oliver was right which should have been annoying but instead the fact that he knew the hamster so well was just charming as all giddy up. ‘Okay fine. Deal.’
Paige stuck out her hand and he took it but she was not prepared for the surge of heat that trekked up her arm as they shook. Nor was he if the way he looked at their joined hands was any indication.
What was even happening now?
Withdrawing her hand, she said briskly, ‘On one condition.’
‘Nope. It is unconditional. Do not pass go. No correspondence will be entered into.’
‘Hey, you started the haggling, not me.’
‘I think the term you’re after is negotiations.’
He sounded so stuffy when he said it but his very British accuracy appealed to the baby lawyer in her which once again strengthened her resolve to keep making life uncomfortable for Oliver because, damn it, she’d have made an excellent lawyer.
‘They would love for you to bring along the BAFTA.’ She glanced up at the row of awards that, even in the darkened environment, dominated the room in all their cold, gleaming glory. ‘And the Oscar. Kinda like show and tell.’
Oliver gaped at her like she’d asked him to do the talk naked. ‘That Oscar is insured for a million quid!’
It was Paige’s turn to gape as she turned her eyes on the golden statue standing erect as an army colonel and possibly as arrogant as one too.Wow.‘Okay, that’s a lot.’
‘It’s anOscar.A best actor Oscar. One of the most coveted awards in the world. And rare. There’s only been 103 recipients to date.’
Paige had assumed the gleaming hardware above was reasonably valuable but that figure set her back on her feet.
‘Other than a monthly feather dusting from the cleaner, it hasn’t been touched since it was set up there next to the others over a decade ago.’
Frowning, Paige dragged her gaze off it to Oliver. ‘What? Your father didn’t get it down and look at it every now and then? Show his buddies? Surely you’ve done the same?’
‘Of course not, I’ve never touched it. I’ve never touched any of them.’
He’dnevertouched any of them?
‘They’re there to be looked at. To be admired.’
Look but don’t touch. It sounded very much like Oliver’s relationship with his father from what she’d gleaned from the recordings. Oliver could look but he couldn’t touch. Roger Prendergast could be loved and admired – in fact he both craved and demanded it – but only at a distance.
‘Haven’t you ever wanted to?’ Paige knew if her father had a gold Oscar to his name, everyone in the family would have pictures holding it. Hell, she and her siblings would have each taken it to school for show and tell, at his insistence. It would no doubt have come home with hundreds of sticky finger prints dulling its shine and he’d have just given it a quick polish – probably with the tail of whatever shirt he was wearing – and popped it back on the shelf in his shed or maybe in the loo.
