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realised with a start that he’d forgotten the business side of this while he’d been mulling over adding his signature to the page. All he’d thought about was her and not about the benefit this was going to offer his career.
    Satisfied that the wedding date was correct, six months from now, Charlotte flicked back to the signing page. She frowned and looked up at him without straightening. He cringed as he discovered he now had a view straight down her shirt! He quickly looked away as she smirked, and he had the overwhelming feeling that she’d done it on purpose.
    “They haven’t written your name properly on the contract,” she said. “Didn’t you notice?”
    “What? Where?” he leaned down to look at the paperwork, studiously keeping his eyes on the paper and not looking again at her gaping shirt.
    “Right here,” she tapped her finger against his name, which looked perfectly fine to him. “It should say ‘Fuckwit.’”

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Charlotte packed the last of her things into her tiny suitcase and glanced around to make sure she had everything. This room had been her home for the last eight months and she was a little sad to be leaving it. She knew this was the first step to her big break, though, and she smiled as she thought about coming here ten or twenty years from now and showing a camera crew where she’d lived before she was famous.
    She handed the key to Courtney and gave her a big hug. “You won’t forget us when you’re famous, will you?”
    “Of course not. We’ll all be famous together, anyway, so there’s nothing to worry about!”
    “Maybe… but you’re moving in with a superstar and we’re staying here. Are you sure you won’t tell us who it is?”
    “I don’t want to jinx it. It could all be over in a couple of weeks and I might be on the doorstep, begging for the couch to sleep on. I promise, when I’m ready, we’ll talk about it.”
    “Okay. Just don’t keep us waiting too long. We’re excited for you!”
    “You guys have been great friends. I’m so lucky I met you when I first got here.”
    A horn tooted in the street and she said, “That’ll be for me. See you soon, okay?”
    They nodded as she let herself out of the apartment and headed to the street. She couldn’t see a taxi anywhere and was about to go inside when the driver of a limousine parked at the curb walked over to her. “Charlotte Shipton?”
    “That’s me.”
    “I’m to take you to the airport.”
    “Uh… there must be some mistake. I’m just to get a lift to… someone’s house,” she finished lamely. They should have announced this before she moved in with Jack, but he was worried about the throng of media she would suddenly attract; he’d insisted, as part of the contract, that she move in first.
    “Yes, he thought you might be confused, but I assure you I am taking you to Mr Fawkner.”
    When she heard his name, Charlotte let out the breath she’d been holding and relaxed a little. She allowed the driver to take her suitcase and slid into the limo when he held the door open for her. The backseat had that new car smell, and she rubbed her hands appreciatively across the white leather.
    The window rolled down between her and the driver, “Help yourself to a drink, if you’d like.”
    “Thank you.” She hadn’t yet had to confess to anyone in Hollywood that she didn’t drink. For now, she was trying to keep it that way, as lame as it seemed to keep such a silly secret. She stretched in her seat and looked out the window as she wondered where she was going by plane.
    Jack had told her nothing when he’d arranged for her to move, except that she should be ready for a car to collect her. He’d had no other contact with her at all, and she had worried even more about what she’d signed up for. Surely he didn’t want to spend three years being awkward around someone he was pretending to love? They were going to have to have a discussion about this very early. She hoped they