by Susan Lewis
‘She went off somewhere with David this morning.’
Stirling’s mouth twitched. ‘You don’t reckon there’s something going on there?’ he said gleefully, knowing it’d put that cute little nose of hers out of joint.
‘You have to be joking,’ Marielle responded. ‘She’s definitely not his type.’
‘Mm, she looks all right, what I’ve seen of her.’
Marielle’s head came up. ‘You’ve seen her?’ she said.
‘Sure I’ve seen her. You think I go about with my fucking eyes shut?’
‘Maybe,’ Marielle said a while later as she snaked her fingers over his thigh and slid them into his shorts, ‘David’s in a better position to give me the magazine.’
‘Maybe he is at that,’ Stirling yawned. ‘But it seems to me he wants Penny the Moon to have it. And you, Marielle, better make up your mind which ball park you’re playing on, here, ’cos by the time I’ve finished with Villers he ain’t gonna be in no position to give you a rag to wipe your butt with, never mind one to put on a newsstand. Now, since you seem mighty keen to be giving me a blow job down there, why don’t you get on with it? Perhaps it’ll shut you up for five minutes.’
‘I reckon now is as good a time as any,’ David said as he steered the Saab from the autoroute and headed left up towards Mougins, ‘to tell you what a really great job you’re doing, Pen. You’ve pulled a terrific team together, you’re on top of everything and despite your occasional lapses into hysteria with me, I reckon you handle yourself pretty well.’
‘Well, you don’t have to sound so surprised,’ Penny retorted, ‘and you could have left out the dig. Nevertheless, thank you for the compliment.’
Smiling, he threw her a quick look, then returned his eyes to the road. ‘Are you intending to let Sylvia take a look at the proofs?’ he asked.
‘She hasn’t asked to, but I’ll courier them over if you think I should.’
‘Your decision.’
Penny turned to look out at the villa-studded hillsides, smiling happily to herself as the wind rushing through her hair brought a merciful respite from the cloying heat of the day. She was in a great mood today and not even David had managed to dent it. On the contrary, in fact: he had behaved impeccably all day long. Well, let’s not overdo it, Penny, she scolded herself. He hadn’t been able to resist the odd jibe here and there and he’d made a total prat of himself along with the other men at the printers over some blonde parading past with next to nothing on. Why did men have to do that? Didn’t they realize what gorillas they looked? Still, on the whole, David had been almost bearable, providing she was prepared to overlook the uncomfortable moment at lunch when he’d fixed her with those insufferable eyes of his and asked if, by any chance, she’d been having wickedly lustful dreams about him. Conceited bastard! But for once she hadn’t risen to it. Instead she had told him, quite calmly, that should this unlikely event ever occur she would be sure to check into the nearest psychiatric ward, and if he’d asked the question because he was having them about her, then he could just dream on.
They were only three weeks away from publication now and with things still running along suspiciously well-oiled tracks Penny could see no cause for disaster. Nevertheless, it was only the fact that publicity was now gaining momentum, invitations to the launch were out and the first three issues were more or less ready for the printer that was allaying her fears that she might just be designing the Emperor’s new clothes. That, and the reason behind their visit to the printer today.
They’d gone to discuss a last-minute change to the first issue that involved a complete reworking of the front cover and the replacement of a celebrity interview. It was going to be tight, the printer had told them, but as long as Penny got the substitute interview to him by the end of the week he would go so far as to confidently predict that they might make it. Smiling at his rare attempt at humour Penny had assured him that it wouldn’t be a problem. She could only hope now that it wouldn’t be.
This eleventh-hour exclusive, arranged courtesy of David, of course, was going to provide them with the launch of all launches, for the American actress Pauline Fields, who was flying into Nice to begin her summer vacation on Cap d’Ail the following day, had agreed to be interviewed. It was such an amazing coup that Penny was still reeling from the shock, for it would be the first time that Fields had spoken to anyone from the press since the untimely death of her husband six months ago in a tragic accident that had almost killed their daughter too. Such an exclusive couldn’t fail to put them on the map since Fields’s popularity was second only to her fame.
‘So,’ David said, interrupting Penny’s reverie as they turned into the welcome shade of the winding, leafy lane that climbed to the gates of the villa, ‘you managed to find yourself a boyfriend yet?’
Rolling her eyes, Penny turned to look at him. ‘Why don’t you mind your own business?’ she said with an affable smile.
‘But you are my business,’ he objected.
‘Now, just how did you manage to work that one out?’ she enquired.
‘I’ve got a lot of money invested in you,’ he answered. ‘I reckon that makes you my business.’
‘During working hours maybe; out of working hours, you can just keep your big nose out of things. OK?’
‘OK,’ he shrugged. Then, after a pause: ‘So, have you?’
‘Have I what?’
‘Found yourself a boyfriend?’
‘David, drop dead,’ she said sweetly and reached into her bag for the gate control.
‘You going to invite me in for a drink?’ he asked as they came to a stop at the front door.
‘I wasn’t planning to,’ she answered.
‘Well, plans can always be changed,’ he grinned, throwing open his door and getting out. ‘Maybe we could take a swim first, then I can fill you in on some of Pauline Fields’s background over a glass or two.’
After the long, sticky drive back from Toulon there was nothing Penny would have liked more than to plunge into the refreshing depths of the pool, but there was no way in the world she was going to let David see her in one of her skimpy swimsuits. She’d managed to lose a bit of weight these past few months, but she was still a mighty long way from perfect and she didn’t trust him not to point it out.
‘Actually,’ she said, ‘I don’t want to appear rude, but this evening isn’t convenient.’
David’s eyebrows shot up. ‘So there is someone?’ he said, not seeming to like it too much.
‘Why don’t you just put a sock in it, David?’ she responded. ‘I’ve told you already: my personal life is none of your business.’
‘Is he the reason for the diet?’ he asked.
To her annoyance, Penny felt herself starting to blush. ‘The reason for the diet, as you call it,’ she answered through her teeth, ‘is hard work and not enough time to eat. Now, if you want to take a swim, be my guest. I’ll join you on the terrace in half an hour for one drink. After that I’m afraid I’ll have to throw you out.’
As she wandered off to her bedroom to shower and change Penny was berating herself for turning down this chance to discuss Pauline Fields. It was unprofessional and she knew it. But there was always tomorrow and tonight was the first opportunity she’d had to see Esther Delaney, who’d returned home two days ago – three weeks later than Wally had expected her. Penny had called her from the office late yesterday to invite her over for a drink this evening, which had delighted the old lady almost as much as it had Penny to hear that Wally wasn’t available. So she wasn’t going to pass up what she hoped would be an opportunity to chat about Christian Mureau when it might ultimately lead to a scoop that could prove even greater than the Pauline Fields exclusive. At least, that was what she was telling herself in what she actually knew to be a self-deluding effort to remain professional about this.
A while later, just before going downstairs to join David on the terrace, Penny stepped out on to the balcony of her bedroom to look at the magnific
ent view of the sea. By then she’d all but forgotten that David was still there, so it gave her something of a start to see him beside the pool towelling himself off.
She watched him for a moment, rather liking being in the position of seeing yet not being seen. It seemed to put her at an advantage, something she rarely was with David. That was until he dropped his towel and turned for his clothes. He was, to Penny’s dismay, exposing a body that was so breathtakingly beautiful, so hard and tanned, that Penny simply couldn’t take her eyes away. His long, muscular legs and the coarse, dark hair of his groin almost made her groan aloud. How easy it was to picture him making love, to imagine the endless pleasure a body like that could give. Dear God – she grimaced as she started to turn back inside – this involuntary abstinence of hers was starting to have seriously adverse effects on her judgement.
She had just reached the door when she suddenly stiffened as she heard him call out, ‘Hi, there!’
‘Hi,’ she heard Sammy call back and Penny almost collapsed with relief. The very last thing in the world she wanted was for David to know that she’d been standing there admiring his body. She’d never hear the end of it!
Walking on to the terrace a few minutes later, she felt the beginnings of a blush creep into her cheeks as David looked up. His damnable eyes flooded with laughter, as if he knew she was still carrying the image of his nudity in her mind, and when he complimented her on the way she looked, to her dismay she found herself ludicrously tongue-tied.
‘Don’t mind me,’ Sammy grinned, looking from one to the other. ‘I can tell when I’m not wanted.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Penny snapped, aware that David with his arm hooked across the back of the chair beside him, was highly amused at her discomfort.
‘What it means,’ Sammy said, ‘is that I’m off out. I just came back to shower and change . . .’
‘Where are you going?’ Penny called as Sammy headed into the house. ‘I haven’t seen you for days.’
‘I’ve been staying with Stefan,’ Sammy called back.
‘And who,’ David asked when Sammy had disappeared, ‘is Stefan?’
Penny smiled. ‘The latest love of her life. He’s got this little dinghy that he motors around the harbours selling ice creams to the yachties.’
‘He’s offered me a job, by the way,’ Sammy said, popping her head back round the door.
‘You’ve already got a job,’ Penny reminded her.
‘Yes, but it isn’t full-time, and it’s kind of fun zooming around all those luxury boats. You should try it some time. It might loosen you up a bit.’
Penny looked at David and could have quite happily slapped him.
‘I didn’t say a word,’ he protested, holding up his hands.
‘You don’t have to,’ she said shortly. ‘You managed to find yourself a drink, I see.’
‘Sammy got it for me. So,’ he sighed a moment or two later as he gazed out over the garden, towards the sea, ‘here we are.’
‘What do you mean, here we are?’ she demanded indignantly.
David laughed. ‘Exactly what did you think I meant?’ he asked.
‘Don’t get tricky,’ she said irritably. ‘I’m not in the mood.’
He shook his head as though trying to clear it. ‘Tell me, did I miss something?’ he asked.
Penny frowned.
‘Well, you sure weren’t this antsy before you went upstairs,’ he said. ‘In fact, I was kind of getting to like you . . .’
‘Let’s change the subject,’ she suggested.
‘Fine by me,’ he said, tipping his head back as he put the beer bottle to his mouth. ‘By the way, I hope you don’t mind but I used the phone while you were upstairs.’
‘No, I don’t mind,’ she said, wishing she could shake this sudden bad mood.
‘I called Marielle,’ he went on. ‘She wasn’t there so I left a message. I thought someone had better break the news about Pauline Fields to her and I didn’t imagine you’d have much of a problem with that someone being me.’
‘None whatsoever,’ she answered, knowing that Marielle was going to turn green with envy and black with fury that she wasn’t doing the interview. ‘I wish you luck.’
There was a lengthy pause after that, during which only the cicadas and the calming trickle of the fountain could be heard. It wasn’t a silence Penny was particularly comfortable with, but she couldn’t think of anything to fill it. Unless of course she brought up the subject of Pauline Fields again. But she didn’t want to do that: it would be a long conversation and she was expecting Esther Delaney in fifteen minutes.
She stole a quick look at David, who gave every appearance of being perfectly at ease with the silence. Come to think of it, she’d never seen him anything other than totally relaxed. How wonderful it must be to feel so confident, so at ease with yourself, she thought. But then, looking like him, being as rich as him, and so blessed with charm and all those other detestable qualities he had, who wouldn’t feel pleased with themselves?
‘Tell me, David,’ she said, ‘doesn’t anything ever get to you?’
‘In what way?’ he asked.
She shrugged, already sensing she was going to regret getting into this. ‘Well, don’t you ever get really wound up about something?’ she said.
‘Sure I do,’ he answered. ‘But only things that matter.’
Penny nodded. ‘What sort of things matter?’ she asked, trying to sound offhand.
‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
He regarded her closely for a moment, then said, ‘There are plenty of things that get to me, Penny Moon, you don’t want to worry about that.’
‘I wasn’t worried,’ she told him sharply.
‘Good. So, tell me about your neighbours. Have you met any of them yet?’
‘Only the ones immediately next door. There’s a house just through those trees over there,’ she added, pointing.
‘French?’ he asked.
‘No. English.’
‘What do they do?’
‘They’re in antiques,’ she answered. ‘The oriental kind, I think.’
He nodded as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Must be doing pretty well for them to afford a place out here,’ he remarked.
‘Mmm,’ she said.
Again there was a silence. For some unaccountable reason she really wished she could read what was going on in his mind. The trouble with David was you never knew and, she supposed, that was why she found it so easy to be angry with him.
‘Ah well,’ he said, putting down his empty glass, ‘time I was on my way.’
Penny walked with him to his car. ‘Are you serious about your relationship with Marielle?’ she asked as he got in.
She saw his smile even before he raised his face to look up at her and braced herself for his mocking eyes. But, to her surprise, whatever quip he was about to make never materialized as the usual humour retreated from his eyes and he said, ‘At this moment in time there’s only one woman I’m serious about, and it sure as hell isn’t Marielle. But,’ he added, with a wink, ‘things can always change,’ and starting up the engine, he circled the car around the forecourt and drove off.
Trying to pin Esther Delaney down to the subject of Christian Mureau was proving much harder than Penny had anticipated. The two of them had been sitting on the terrace for almost two hours, the sun had gone down and Esther’s tongue did not, for the moment at least, appear to be loosening with the liberal oiling of alcohol. When she had arrived Penny had had to turn away to smother a smile at the knee-length red silk pleated skirt, black fishnet tights and black silk wrap-around top. Funnier still were the high-heeled shoes, with which the old lady clearly had a balancing problem.
But Penny’s humour had quickly died when she’d found that any attempt she made to bring Mureau into the conversation was met with one of the old lady’s irritatingly staccato little laughs and a flurry of hands about her face and throat. What Penny had managed t
o learn, though, was that wherever Wally was right now he was with Christian and that Esther’s recent trip to the United States had been made alone. That didn’t surprise Penny, however, for Christian Mureau was hardly in a position to cross American shores when he was currently at number five on the FBI’s hit parade. But what Esther Delaney had been doing in the States for the past three weeks was something Penny was no closer to finding out now than she was before Esther arrived.
In fact, under any other circumstances Penny might have admired Esther’s surprising ability to dodge questions she didn’t want to answer. But, as she chuntered on about her time in Malaysia, seeming more and more on edge as each minute passed, as though she knew that Penny wasn’t going to let her off the hook, Penny decided she had let her witter on long enough, and pouring more wine into both their glasses, she took control of the conversation.
‘Did Christian tell you that he left a message on my answerphone the night of the vernissage?’ she asked bluntly.
Esther’s eyes instantly glazed.
‘Did he tell you?’ Penny said firmly.
‘Uh, um, yes, you know, I think he might have,’ Esther answered, taking a gulp of wine.
‘Did he tell you what he said? He said he thought we should meet.’
‘Mmm, yes, mmm,’ Esther responded, looking anywhere but at Penny.
‘Has he changed his mind?’ Penny asked.
‘No! Um, yes. Yes, he changed his mind,’ Esther finished decisively.
She was a very poor liar, Penny thought. ‘Maybe, since I don’t know how to get hold of him myself, you would give him a message for me,’ she said.
‘Oh dear,’ Esther said, appearing more agitated than ever.
‘Surely it won’t hurt to give him a message,’ Penny responded, disguising her irritation with a smile. ‘Maybe you could tell him that I am not looking for a story unless, of course, he wants to give it.’
‘No, no! Doesn’t want to give a story,’ Esther replied, sounding quite definite. ‘Wants to meet you, but not for a story.’
Penny was heartened to hear that and refrained from reminding the old lady that only moments ago she had said he’d changed his mind about wanting to meet her. ‘Then if you give him my assurance that I am not on the lookout for a story, perhaps he will call me again,’ she said. ‘Where is he now?’
