Thrill City by Leigh Redhead Read Free Book Online Page B

shuffled out of the marquee, I turned to Chloe. ‘I’m going to find Nick,’ I said, ‘see if he’s okay and still up for the ride-along on Monday.’
    ‘Cool. Meet you at the signing.’ Chloe didn’t look at me. She was tracking Curtis and Desiree, not letting them out of her sight.
    I finally spotted him half-hidden behind a willow tree on the banks of the Yarra, smoking another cigarette, his injured hand held up to his chest. Liz was talking to him and it looked like she was imploring him to do something, probably go to hospital for stitches, but he shook his head and waved her away. Just as I was about to approach, Isabella appeared from the port-a-loos and swept straight for him. I hung back, peeking out from behind a gum tree, too far away to hear exactly what they were saying.
    First they shouted, then appeared to calm down. Isabella took the cigarette out of Nick’s mouth and had a couple of drags before grinding it out under one dainty Mary-Jane. In no time they were shouting again until suddenly Nick leaned in and kissed her. She pulled away and slapped him, then took his face in both her hands, pushed him against the tree and kissed him back, hard. Writers. I gave up trying to figure them out, went to look for Chloe and found her in the book-signing tent, in front of Rod Thurlow, the line behind her stretching out across the oval. He signed her copy of Lethal Force with a flourish and a smile, but she didn’t move on.
    ‘Now do my boobs!’ She leaned over the table and hung her cleavage in his face like she was a groupie and he was Tommy Lee.
    Rod looked bemused. ‘Whoa. I’m not sure I have enough ink in my pen.’
    ‘Oh, come on, Mr Thurlow.’ She licked her lips and winked. ‘You look like the sort of guy who’s always got enough ink in his pen . . .’
    Looking around I immediately found the reason for the display—Curtis and Desiree, perusing the true crime section, her hand wedged into his back pocket. I’d had just about enough; this wasn’t so much a writers’ festival as an expo for jealous lovers. I went over to them, and Chloe, who had just finished getting her tits autographed, glowered at me like I was Judas Iscariot, before pretending to browse the book stacks.
    ‘You weren’t kidding about the rough break-up,’ I said to Desiree, low enough so Rod wouldn’t hear. ‘That panel was a fucking fiasco. How long since they’ve been divorced?’
    ‘Oh, they haven’t quite untied the knot yet,’ Desiree said smoothly. ‘You have to be separated a year. Isabella wanted to fudge the date on the papers but he wouldn’t have it. Isabella wants to marry Rod on Christmas Day so it’s all a bit . . . fraught.’
    She wasn’t wrong. Isabella came in and sat at the signing table next to Rod. Her cloche hat was on straight and she’d reapplied her lipstick.
    ‘Where have you been, darling?’ he asked. ‘People have been waiting to get their books signed.’
    ‘Sorry, got caught up talking to some of the audience members. They all agreed that Nick behaved appallingly.’
    Suddenly there was a commotion at the entrance to the book-signing tent as a tall blonde swanned in. She had the figure and sweetly pretty features of a Miss Australia contestant and was trailed by a cameraman and a guy with a boom mike.
    ‘Isabella!’ said the blonde.
    ‘Victoria!’ Isabella stood and the two hugged, lightly. ‘What’s with the camera?’
    ‘Oh, it’s for a documentary. A year in the life of best-selling writer Victoria Hitchens.’ Victoria rolled her eyes.
    Rod was giving Victoria a dirty look. Victoria put her arm around Isabella and spoke direct to camera. ‘This is Isabella Bishop, a terrific author and my best friend from high school. I don’t think I could have become a writer without her. She really inspired me.’
    Isabella smiled graciously, if somewhat tightly, towards the camera.
    ‘Oh shoot.’ Victoria looked at her watch. ‘I’m late for my panel. So great to see you