Love Beat by Flora Dain Read Free Book Online

me?”
    “Jake, for goodness’ sake.” Seriously alarmed, I smile kindly at Sonja. “Don’t mind him. He improves with lunch. Have you worked for Mr. Fitzlean long?”
    Sonja tears her eyes off Jake for a second, bewildered. “I… About a year.”
    I give her a friendly grin. “Never a dull minute?”
    She smiles shyly and the ice thaws a fraction. She turns again to Jake, braver now. “We’re arranging some classes to amuse the guests, Mr. Simmons. Mr. Fitzlean wondered if you’d give some master classes on photography. He’s a great admirer of your work.”
    Jake stares sullenly at his plate. “No.”
    Sonja’s cheeks turn the palest shell pink. For once she looks completely lost and remarkably pretty. I melt.
    Under the table I kick his foot. “For crying out loud, Jake, you’ve seen what he’s like. She’ll probably lose her job. Just say yes.”
    Jake glances up impatiently. “Sorry, Sonja. Yes, then. And it’s Jake. Please.” He eyes her morosely while she beams back at him.
    As she turns away, she gives me a grateful nod. “And you’re due at the salon in five minutes, Miss Vale. Ask for anything. It’s all on the house.”
    Jake glances at me and sighs heavily. “We’ll do the shots when you’re through. Text me, would you? We’ll meet on the terrace.”
    Across the table Mel and Ben are deep in conversation, already drawing up their plan of attack on the A-listers and their agents, Ben on the golf course and Mel in the spa. I leave them to it and head for the salon.
     
    * * * *
     
    “Wow.” Jake’s pacing the terrace when I finally emerge, sleek and relaxed. Nera’s right about the styling. It’s surprisingly good.
    My hair’s lightly reshaped and a tender, loving manicure has settled my nerves. What helped even more was the friendly female chatter all around me.
    Now I feel good. And hey, even Jake’s noticed. From him, this is praise indeed. I smile a thank you and we set off at a brisk walk toward the woods.
    Walking quickly soon undoes all the salon’s patient work. Soon my hair’s a mess from twigs and branches brushing past me and I’m growing uneasy. The woods are creepy. There are sinister rustles in the undergrowth, and I keep seeing black shapes among the trees.
    At one point I jerk to a halt and Jake swears as his camera bag bumps into me from behind.
    “What are you doing? Keep walking, Tunis. This stuff’s heavy.”
    “But… I thought I saw somebody.”
    He gasps theatrically and lowers his voice to a stage whisper. “Maybe it’s… the Panther . Grr .”
    He lunges at me, teeth bared, hands clawing the air around my face. “ He’s coming to get you… ”
    “Stop it. That’s not funny.” I try to smile but I’ve broken out in a cold sweat.
    He snorts. “Shapes? Just ignore them. Fitzlean’s people are everywhere. The place is crawling with security. You mean you haven’t noticed? We’re Alcatraz central.”
    After that he goes quiet, but I’m even edgier. The farther we go, the more I sense his air of suppressed excitement.
    Why?
    Soon the path grows steeper and I start to hear a dull, roaring noise. It’s getting steadily louder. A generator of some kind?
    I stop to get my breath. “How much farther?”
    “Nearly there. It’s a terrific spot. You’ll see.”
    At last he sets down his bag, takes out his bulky camera and starts to screw on a lens.
    Now I see I’m truly honored. He’s brought an early handheld camera, his beloved Éclair Cameflex, the French classic.
    He holds it up proudly. “Look at that. What a beaut. You’d never guess it dates from the forties. If it was good enough for Orson Welles it’s good enough for me.”
    I roll my eyes. Boys and toys. If Mel were here she’d tell him to shut up. I’m too soft on him.
    Instead, I give him a wry smile. “So where’s this view?” The noise is loud now, a dull roar. I see only trees.
    “Right here.” He steers me firmly down a short flight of wooden steps, through a wall of