Ivy Series Teacher Student Romance - Boxed Set: Romance Boxed Sets for Kindle Unlimited (Ivy Series - Teacher Student Romance Book 7)

by Suzy K Quinn

  Oh my god.

  I stare at the swirly words, eyes wide with disbelief.

  The movie I made with Nadia, Rapunzel, has been nominated for three Silver Lotus Flowers.

  Wow.

  After I’m certain that I’m not hallucinating, I turn my attention to the letter.

  It’s from Nadia.

  She writes:

  Sophia,

  Can you believe those nominations for Rapunzel? Pretty cool, huh? I’ve booked you and Marc onto my table at the Riviera Film Festival, so we can all watch the awards together. Now – onto even bigger and better things.

  Read this script and promise me you’ll play Violet.

  I wrote her for you. Please say yes!

  Nadia goes on to explain that she’ll be shooting a new movie at sea, and she’s hired a luxurious cruise ship for filming purposes. It will be docked at Saint-Tropez – very near the film festival. Then she talks about the other potential actors in the movie.

  She signs off by saying,

  When we finish filming, we’ll sail to the film festival and pick up our awards. Perfect, right?

  Wow.

  I put the invitation and letter to one side, and slide the script free of the box, feeling its weight in my hands.

  There’s something magical about a new script. A whole new world.

  My eyes scan the first page.

  Cruise

  Written by Nadia Malbeck.

  Nadia wrote this whole script?

  My lively, Spanish director comes to mind, in her leather trousers and bright-red lipstick. I can’t imagine her sitting still for long enough to write a whole script. But apparently she has done.

  Smiling, I think back to the film we shot together.

  My very first movie.

  I couldn’t have asked for a better director.

  Settling back into the sofa, I begin turning pages. It doesn’t take long before I’m totally engrossed.

  Oh shit.

  I’m in big trouble.

  I LOVE this script.

  21

  An hour later, I’m barely aware of Marc coming into the lounge.

  He kisses me on the head, and I hurriedly flip the script closed.

  ‘You were engrossed,’ Marc says. ‘What are you reading?’

  I manage a guilty smile. ‘Oh, just … a movie script.’

  Marc frowns. ‘What movie script?’

  I look down at my knees. ‘The one in the silver box.’

  He turns away from me. ‘Where’s Ivy?’

  ‘Sleeping.’

  Marc strides to the stairs. ‘I’ll go check on her.’

  When Marc returns, he picks up the empty silver box from the coffee table. ‘So you opened Pandora’s box?’

  ‘Is Ivy okay?’ I ask.

  ‘She’s still asleep.’ Marc crosses his arms. ‘It must be a good script. You barely heard me come in.’

  ‘It is,’ I say, taking a distracted sip of hot chocolate and realising it’s gone cold. ‘Really, really good. Excellent, actually.’

  ‘I don’t see why you’d want to torture yourself.’ Marc perches on the edge of the sofa.

  ‘I … I might not be torturing myself. Marc, I want to act again.’

  ‘Sophia, we’ve already discussed that.’

  ‘No. We haven’t. You think I should study more. But I don’t agree. This movie will be astonishing.’

  ‘Look.’ Marc fixes blue eyes on me. ‘I know you haven’t been happy at home—’

  I shake my head. ‘I have been happy. Happier than anything. I love being with Ivy.’

  ‘Okay. That was the wrong word. You haven’t been fulfilled. I realise that. And I know how much you love acting. You were born to it. But taking a role right now … it’s not the right time. You’re not ready.’

  I push the script onto the coffee table. ‘That’s a little dramatic.’

  ‘But true.’ Marc picks up the script, frowning down at it.

  ‘Marc, I’m just blown away by the script,’ I insist. ‘The emotion. I can’t miss out on something like this.’

  Marc turns pages. ‘Nadia always makes good movies.’

  ‘But she’s never written one before. And do you know what? She wrote the lead female just for me.’

  ‘Did she indeed?’ He doesn’t look up.

  ‘Yes.’ I put my hot chocolate on the coffee table. ‘It’s going to be shot partly on a cruise ship at sea. Away from the paparazzi. Could you think of anything more perfect?’

  Marc taps the script in his hands. ‘It’s too soon, Sophia. You’re not ready.’

  ‘Oh god Marc, I’m a mother. You don’t get more grown up than that.’

  Marc sighs and rubs his forehead. ‘What’s the movie about, anyway?’

  ‘A young girl and a dangerous man. Actually, dangerous teacher, to be more precise. The girl falls for her dance instructor.’

  Marc raises an eyebrow. ‘Nadia has been paying attention.’

  ‘I want to do it, Marc.’

  ‘You’re rushing into things again,’ says Marc.

  ‘No,’ I insist. ‘I have to make my own choices.’

  Marc shakes his head. ‘Not when it concerns my daughter. I have an equal say, and I say no.’

  ‘I’m her mother. If I thought there was anything unsafe about this—’

  ‘Sophia, you haven’t thought it through.’ Marc glances down at the script again, flicking pages and frowning. ‘This is too much of a challenge. The characters are interesting. I’ll give you that. But the lead man is … I mean, look at these lines. You’re not ready to play opposite such a strong character. You’ll be eaten alive. Swallowed up.’

  God. How patronising. I sit up straighter. ‘I think I can do it.’

  ‘No Sophia. You’re trying to run before you can walk. And it’s not the right time. You’ve just had a baby.’

  I pick up Nadia’s letter, waving it at him. ‘If Nadia thinks I can do it, what’s the problem?’

  Marc takes the silver, folded card, frowning as he scans it. ‘Nadia doesn’t know you like I do. What’s this? Your Riviera Film Festival invitation?’

  ‘Yes.’ I wiggle along the sofa so I’m sitting next to him, scanning the invitation too.

  ‘Isn’t the film festival enough for you? Look – Rapunzel has been nominated for three different awards. You’ll have your time in the limelight.’

  ‘This isn’t about the limelight, Marc. This is about following my passion.’

  ‘I thought motherhood was your passion.’

  ‘It’s not enough,’ I blurt out. ‘I need more, Marc.’

  ‘Sophia, you rushed into movies and musicals before you were ready. And you ended up in hospital.’ He kisses my head. ‘I’ll take you to the film festival. Okay?’

  ‘You know, this movie shoots right down the road from the film festival.’ I snatch up Nadia’s letter and point to a paragraph. ‘So when we finish filming in Saint-Tropez, we’ll go to the award ceremony afterwards.’

  ‘When you finish filming? Sophia—’

  ‘Marc, listen. You know I haven’t been … content. You were the one who said we needed a nanny. And here I am, ready to follow your advice.’

  ‘So you could have a break. Not jump into an unsuitable movie. You’ll be out of your depth—’

  ‘It’s not unsuitable. Nadia wrote the part for me. Ivy is happy with a nanny. And … I’m happy when I’m acting.’

  I can’t meet his eye. Part of me is ashamed about how I feel. I am happy being a mother. But I need more.

  ‘Marc, listen.’ I take his hand. ‘I can handle this.’

  ‘So you say. But I still have concerns.’ Marc takes Nadia’s letter, looking it over. ‘Christ. Leo Falkirk is in this one, too? He’d better not be playing the male lead.’

  ‘No.’

  Marc scans further down the letter. ‘Benjamin Van Rosen is in the running? Sophia – I’ve met that man. He’s a womaniser and an ego-maniac.’

  ‘Marc.’ I drop
his hand. ‘I want to take the part.’

  ‘No Sophia.’ Marc folds the letter into a neat little rectangle. ‘I absolutely forbid it.’

  I laugh. ‘I don’t care if you forbid it. I’m doing it anyway.’

  ‘Fine.’ Marc drops the letter and invitation on the coffee table and stands, crossing his arms. ‘Have it your own way. But you will not leave the country with our daughter.’

  I stand too. ‘How do you intend to stop me? She’s my child too.’

  ‘Christ.’ Marc runs a hand through his hair. ‘I’m not happy about this Sophia. Not happy at all. It’s time you grew up.’

  He stalks upstairs.

  ‘I’m already grown up,’ I shout after him.

  But all I hear is the slam of the study door.

  22

  I spend the next week phoning nanny agencies, scouring online advertisements and interviewing potential carers at our home.

  This is expressively against Marc’s wishes, of course, so I don’t tell him.

  We’ve barely said two words to each other since the door-slamming argument, and Marc leaves early in the mornings and comes back late at night.

  The trouble is, I hate every nanny I meet.

  It doesn’t help that they wear stiff, starchy black uniforms and speak with plums in their mouths.

  After I’ve interviewed twenty women with hard, grey hair and permanent frown lines, I begin to think that maybe Marc is right. This is a bad idea. If I can’t find anyone like Seraphina, I should call the whole thing off.

  ‘They’re all so formal, Jen,’ I complain, phone clamped to my ear as I run a pen down the ‘help offered’ column. ‘I just want a normal person. You know?’

  I’m in Marc’s study, going through his business newspapers while Ivy sleeps on my lap.

  ‘But you liked the nanny you had in Switzerland,’ Jen points out. ‘Why not just hire her again?’

  ‘She doesn’t work full time.’ I twiddle the pen around my fingers.

  ‘So where did she come from?’ Jen barks. ‘Maybe her agency has someone similar.’

  I think about that. ‘Denise recommended her.’

  ‘Bingo,’ Jen replies. ‘Phone Denise and ask if she knows anyone else. It’s worth a shot, right?’

  ‘One final shot,’ I say. ‘But if she can’t come up with anyone, then this movie isn’t meant to be.’

  I lay Ivy on a picnic blanket in the garden under the shade of a fruit tree, then find Denise’s number in my phone contacts.

  Ring, ring. Ring, ring.

  The air is warm with early summer aromas – cut grass, sweet buttercups and honeysuckle.

  She’s not going to answer.

  But then she does. On the tenth ring.

  ‘Sophia?’ Denise says, in her kind, crinkly voice.

  ‘Denise!’ I’m so happy she picked up. ‘It’s so good to hear your voice.’

  ‘Are you okay, my love?’ Denise’s voice is full of concern.

  ‘Um … yes.’ I watch leaves sway in the trees. ‘In some ways. Not so good in others.’

  ‘Marc’s been like a bear with a sore bum this week,’ Denise chuckles. ‘Would that have anything to do with the “not so good”?’

  ‘Yes,’ I admit, my eyes absentmindedly skimming over nanny adverts. ‘I’ve been offered a part in Nadia Malbeck’s new movie. But Marc thinks I’m rushing into things. That I should study more before I take on any acting new projects.’

  ‘Marc’s protective instinct can be a little overzealous at times,’ says Denise.

  ‘You think that’s what it is?’ I make a circle around an advert for ‘London Nannies’, and then realise I’ve already called them and scribble it out.

  ‘Almost certainly,’ Denise continues. ‘He doesn’t like letting you out of his sight. And now, of course, he has Ivy to protect too. He’s being silly. You can tell him I said so.’

  I look down at Ivy, lying on the picnic blanket beside me.

  ‘I’ve already decided to do the movie,’ I admit. ‘With or without his approval.’

  ‘Good for you,’ Denise hoots.

  ‘The trouble is, I can’t find a nanny.’ My eyes find the newspaper again, and all the scribbled-out numbers. ‘I’ve been interviewing all week, but there’s no one I like. I’m losing hope.’

  ‘Childcare can be tough,’ says Denise.

  ‘Do you know anyone who could help?’ I tap my pen on the newspaper.

  ‘Mm.’ Denise hesitates. ‘There is someone who might suit you perfectly, as a matter of fact. I’ll tell you what. Let me take you to the British Museum tomorrow. I’ll see if my “someone” can meet us there.’

  23

  The British Museum café is bright with sunshine and overlooks a room of stone columns. I love it instantly. It’s old London meets new, and reminds me of Marc.

  Denise is already seated when Ivy and I arrive. As usual, she’s flowing in colourful layers, her soft, white skin creased with smiles.

  There’s a three-tiered cake stand on the table, three china cups and a steaming teapot.

  A black-suited lady sits opposite Denise.

  I slow my step.

  Oh no. Is this the potential nanny?

  The woman looks just as stiff and stuck-up as every other woman I’ve met this week.

  I feel my hands tighten on the stroller handles.

  ‘Guess what?’ I whisper to a sleeping Ivy. ‘Looks like I won’t be doing this movie after all.’

  I park Ivy by the table and give Denise a hug. Then I turn to the suited lady.

  ‘Hi,’ I say politely. ‘I’m Sophia.’

  The woman gives me a tight smile, and offers her cold hand for shaking.

  There is no way I want this woman as our nanny, I decide. How could Denise think she could be right for me?

  ‘Sophia!’ Denise gushes. ‘Sit, sit. You must share these cakes with me, or I’ll eat the whole lot.’

  To my surprise, the black-suited lady stands and arranges her handbag on her shoulder. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to your luncheon,’ she announces. ‘If you do see Jonathan, give him my regards.’

  And off she goes, striding through the tearoom.

  I stare after her in surprise.

  ‘Where’s she going?’ I ask.

  ‘Who?’ Denise looks around.

  ‘The nanny.’

  ‘Oh, you mean Helen?’ Denise gives a little chuckle. ‘God – she’s not a nanny. I couldn’t imagine her with children. She’s one of those compulsive hand washers – can’t stand dirt. No, no, she’s an old acquaintance from my opera days. You didn’t think I’d suggest someone like Helen for Ivy, did you?’

  ‘Sort of,’ I admit. ‘Sorry. It’s been a long week.’

  Denise laughs. ‘My “someone” had a class to finish, but she’ll be here soon.’

  ‘She’s a student?’ I take a seat.

  ‘Yes.’ Denise cuts open a scone, loading it with jam and clotted cream. ‘But her studies finish this month. Perfect, don’t you think?’ She squints across the room. ‘Ah! Speak of the devil.’

  I turn, and nearly fall off my chair when I see who is weaving around tables towards us.

  24

  Red hair. Green-rimmed glasses. A huge grin.

  ‘Tanya?’ I blink at Denise. ‘I don’t get it. What’s going on?’

  Denise smiles. ‘Tanya is the potential nanny I was talking about.’

  Tanya strolls towards us, a huge brown-leather bag over her shoulder. She’s wearing pedal-pusher jeans, red boots, a striped t-shirt and a black suit jacket. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s breathless as she reaches our table.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ says Tanya, throwing her bag over a Perspex chair. ‘You can blame Denise for that. She forgot I had a class at ten.’ Tanya pretends to strangle Denise.

  Denise laughs. ‘Blame my age. I used to be organised.’

  ‘How are you doing, Soph?’ Tanya puts her arms around me.

  ‘It’s so good to see you!’ I hug her arms. �
��But one of you is going to have to fill me in. I’m horribly confused.’

  Tanya drops into a chair and fans herself with a napkin. ‘Whoa! I’m sweating. Is my makeup everywhere?’

  ‘You’re wearing makeup?’ I ask.

  ‘Had to dress up, didn’t I?’ Tanya pulls out a little compact and checks her eyes. ‘For the big interview.’

  ‘But …’ I shake my head. ‘Tanya, you’re an actress. Not a nanny.’

  ‘Actually, I’m sort of neither.’ Tanya snaps the compact mirror closed. ‘And both. I worked in nurseries before Ivy College. I’ve got diplomas, first aid and all of that. And then there’s my brothers and sisters. I know my way around a dirty nappy, put it that way.’

  ‘But … why would you even want to be Ivy’s nanny?’ I ask. ‘You’re an amazing actress.’

  ‘Well first off, we’re not all magic like you, Sophia.’ Tanya drops the compact back into her bag. ‘Some of us will always need a day job. And second, Denise has told me all about this cruise-ship movie thing. Nadia Malbeck? Leo Falkirk? On a Mediterranean cruise? What actress wouldn’t want to see that movie being made? Talk about work experience. Those cakes look amazing.’

  She grabs a pink macaroon and takes a big bite. ‘And taste amazing. Yum!’

  ‘I love you being around Ivy …’ I begin.

  ‘Uh oh,’ says Tanya. ‘I’m sensing a “but” coming.’

  ‘But I’m not sure it would be good for you. I mean, you’re still an actress. Do you really want to spend the summer babysitting?’

  Tanya puts a mini pecan tart on her plate, then picks up the teapot and fills our cups with steaming, caramel-coloured liquid. ‘On a luxury cruise ship with some of my all-time favourite actors? YES!’

  ‘But after that …’ I take a sip of hot tea.

  ‘Listen, I love acting.’ Tanya puts the teapot down. ‘But I never saw it as the only thing I’d do with my life. My plan was always to open a nursery one day.’

  I hold my cup in both hands, letting the tea warm my fingers. ‘But are you sure—’

  ‘Yes.’ Tanya cuts up her tart. ‘I’d tell you if I wasn’t. Really Soph. Can you imagine me signing up for something I didn’t really want to do?’