Fire Nectar by Faleena Hopkins Read Free Book Online Page A

gotten home.  
    Her work spoke to him.   It was more advanced. The fact that he
couldn’t find any interviews or articles about Dani when he searched –
only her photographs in most of the top magazines, increased his respect. A
private person himself, he felt drawn to her, so he contacted her and offered
himself as an intern.   She met him
and gauged him to be honest and good.   She took him onto her team bypassing the intern stage and gave him a
healthy salary, and what had begun as a temporary arrangement was still going
strong seven years later. She treated him with the utmost respect and he
idolized her in silence.  
    Daniella asked, impatiently, “What did she want –
did she tell you? I didn’t listen to the message.”  
    He nodded again, his shaggy hair falling a bit over his
eyes. “She said that Elle loves the idea and wants to know when you can shoot
it.   They want to know if you can do
a spread – or if it’s going to be a one-pager.” He shuffled his weight
and she looked down at his feet because he was wiggling the toes on his right
foot. Dark plaid button up, dark brown skinny jeans, gray Laceless Converse (which
he always wore) and a wallet connected a chain on his thick black belt. Cute,
she thought with a smile.
      “Julian. I
love how you wiggle your toes like that. You know you only ever do it with the
right foot. It’s going to be a one-pager probably.   I may send in some different shots,
close-ups of various body parts or facial aspects. I’m not sure.   I’ll know when I know. Tell them I want
to keep the option open but it’ll probably be a one off.   And thank you.   I hate dealing with my agent. I’ll call
you later to schedule.”
      “Sure. Yeah.
Okay.”   She walked swiftly away from
him and was down the hallway before he finished saying, “I’ll let her know.” As
she opted for the stairs over waiting for the elevator, he watched her. He
watched her until she was gone.   “Night,” he said, to the empty hallway.

 
 
 
    14 June 1812

 
 
    “Perhaps you could bring yourself to accept the Duke’s
offer, child.   He is a man of
considerable repute and circumstance and will no doubt treat you with the
highest consideration.” His hands wrung themselves in a most distracting manner
of which he was wholly unaware.
      “Oh father,
you didn’t!” Daniella cried out.  
    The honourable Lord Henry
Harcourt had time and time again wagered more than was in his accounts. At
first and for awhile , it was just the money. Then he
lost the Phaeton and two horses that pulled it. He’d won it back only to lose
it again in only a fortnight. One night he’d mortgaged their property, the roof
over their heads, in a high stakes all-in card game. His luck was so infamously
bad that some bet against him “on tick” because they thought it would help them
win their losses back. Notes were thrown in. Breaths held. Sweat itself froze
mid air in anticipation.   And then…
he won.
    The fear of losing the house that covered his only
child’s head had been very real in the moment before victory. He’d held his
breath harder than any of them and silently prayed, “If by chance luck should
shine on me Lord, I promise – never again. Never!” When his prayer was
answered, his promise vanished to the very place all his promises went. Another
man would have been shaken into submission and retreated – but another
man would not have bet his own home. For Lord Harcourt - his blood boiled for
the game. It sought a thrill that knew no satisfaction. That night’s
excitement, to his own heart, had been wondrous.
      “Please
father,” she’d pleaded when she’d later heard what had nearly taken place. He
could not refuse her pleas. He’d promised her he wouldn’t play. And he meant
it. The promise held for three short nights.
    In the next games he was up; the air was light and fun
again. Then he lost and lost yet again and before he knew it, they could no
longer