“It’s about my home not being a movie set.”

“They wouldn’t need your entire home.” Charlotte searched her brain for more ammunition. “You’d be able to stay in residence. Jack sent me a script breakdown. They’d need the kitchen, the great room, one of the libraries and a couple of bedrooms. Oh, and the grounds of course. They’d need the grounds. Maybe your back deck for one scene.”

“And that’s all?” Alec drawled, his sarcastic tone playing havoc with her confidence.

“I’m fairly sure that’s all.” She kept her voice even.

“They wouldn’t need access to my private study? Or my bathroom?” he continued, voice going up. “Or maybe they’d like to take a peek inside-”

“You could designate some areas off-limits,” she rushed in. “And you could even stay at one of your other houses during filming.”

His eyes darkened, and he brandished the spatula like a weapon. “And give a pack of Hollywood hooligans free rein over my home?”

“It’s not like they’re some biker gang.” Sure, some stars had a reputation for bad behavior, but the Hudson Pictures producers were very professional. And Raine was a friend. Charlotte wouldn’t fill her house with a bunch of wild partiers.

“I never said they were.”

“Then what is it?”

“Do you have any idea how hard I have to fight for privacy?”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t-” She stopped herself.

“Yes?” he prompted, cocking his dark head to one side.

“Nothing.” She shook her head. This was turning into enough of a disaster without her insulting him.

“I must insist,” he said, seeming to grow even taller.

“We could cover any privacy concerns in the contract.” She attempted to distract him. “You’d really have nothing to worry-”

“I’ll decide what I worry about. Now what were you about to say?”

She gazed into his probing eyes. “I forgot.”