Encore! (Tudor Saga Book 1) (2 page)

Read Encore! (Tudor Saga Book 1) Online

Authors: Jamie Salisbury

BOOK: Encore! (Tudor Saga Book 1)
4.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"That'd be me," I cockily replied. "Mary Stuart at your service. And you would be?"

"Daniel. Daniel Kennedy." His brown eyes bore through me, but somehow didn't make me uncomfortable. "Forgive me for staring, but you look familiar."

"I was just about to say the same thing. Why don't you tell me what I can do for you and perhaps it'll come to one of us." Yeah I could think of a few things I'd like to do with this man and none of it had to do with taking his picture either.

"I saw some of your work at a gallery and thought you do amazing work. I'm looking for someone to shoot new images for me, and I think you may be that person."

His voice was soft. The cadence in the manner in which he spoke entranced me. He had a hint of an underlying accent, which I'd always found sexy. His voice, his mannerisms...

"Could I get you something to drink, Daniel? A coffee or some tea? I even have water if you'd like. We can sit down and you can tell me exactly what you're looking for." I pointed to a small floral sofa and chair in a corner of the studio.

"Water would be fine."

"I'll be right back. Feel free to look around."

I turned and walked towards the back room where we kept the refrigerator. I opened the door and pulled out two waters and returned to the gallery. Suck it up! He has no idea it was you he's seen at the clubs. Just act as though you're both trying to figure out where you know each other from.

Daniel, mister tall, dark and definitely handsome, not to mention trouble, was standing in front of a grouping of photos I had taken of an elderly duchess on her eightieth birthday. Hearing my footsteps, he turned and proceeded towards the sofa.

I paused in front of him and handed him the bottle of cold water before proceeding to the sofa where I sat across from him. "Tell me something about yourself Daniel. What you do for a living, that sort of thing." I lied.

As I waited for his reply I couldn't help but make note of the heavy silver rings he wore. I instantly recognized one as a skull. He certainly didn't look the part of a Goth. He was dressed nicely enough in a pair of form fitting black jeans, some sort of graphic t-shirt underneath a dark grey pin stripe jacket. He popped the cap off the bottle and took a long swig before closing it again and setting the bottle on the floor.

"I am a violinist…" he began before I jumped in and broke his train of thought.

"Julliard!" I exclaimed. "That's where I know you from." I hated playing these games with him, but for now it was necessary.

He stared intently at me for a moment. "You went to Julliard? Small world isn't it? What instrument do you play?"

"Violin, piano too."

"Hmmm…do you perform still? Because I know I've seen you somewhere since school. There's something familiar…"

"Rarely, at least publicly. I sometimes play for one of the smaller orchestras, but it's only when they call me."

It suddenly dawned on me exactly who he was. Yes, I knew who he was while playing at the clubs as Archangel. He was known worldwide. But our Julliard days were vague. We'd had classes at Julliard, even hung around some. Not that I'd expect him to remember. He was, and still is, on an entirely different plane from all other performers.

"At least one of us has made good on that expensive education."

"It was a unique experience," he replied, cocking his head to one side. "If you are the Mary I'm remembering, you played quite well. I always felt you had trouble letting your passion out, as though something was holding you back."

"You picked up on that? Well, as you can see, this," I pointed to the walls, "has consumed me quite by accident, and this is what pays the bills."

"Something you're obviously very good at."

"Thank you. Would you like to tell me what you're after in these new images you want? I am thinking dramatic…"

So we spent the next hour or two discussing his upcoming CD and tour along with his visions of what he wanted his images to project. I furiously jotted down ideas, mine and his, in my notebook as he spoke. Daniel was quite focused in every aspect of his career, though he confided in me that the music was his favorite part, and the most important.

He looked down at the expensive watch on his wrist and then at me. "I must be going. I have another appointment. Thank you for your time Mary."

"I enjoyed it, Daniel. Let me give you my card and when you're ready, call me and we'll work something out. I know I can work around whatever you have going on." I handed him one of my business cards. He peered at it intently before passing it back to me.

"Would you mind putting your cell phone number on the back? That will make it easier for me to get in touch with you."

I jotted my cell number down on the back of my card and handed it back to him. I peered up at him and noticed his eyes. They appeared almost full of mischief.

"If you'd do me the same courtesy I could perhaps send you some ideas later."

"Yes of course." I reached over and picked up my small notebook and jotted his number down on a page of its own, with his name scrawled beneath it. "I'd like that. What I'd like even more is if we could perhaps have dinner some time. I would love to catch up with you."

"I'd like that too, Daniel." Smack! What the heck are you doing? You give the man your personal number and agree to meet? Well we do sort of know each other. Besides business can always be the excuse. "I look forward to it."

"Very good then, I'll be in touch. Unfortunately, right now I must go. I have a meeting with an old maestro about a recording session and some of them frown at being kept waiting."

"Yes they do, especially by the younger generation."

He smiled. I was hooked. He had the most sincere, captivating smile - and with those sable brown eyes. Damn! He was gone, out the door. I caught something in the air as he passed by me and through the front door. Heaven.

 

****

 

Later that evening, sitting, alone in my flat, in front of my lap top, I sipped on a glass of Cabernet as I sifted through old images. Daniel Kennedy's music was playing softly in the background. I needed to get to know the man if I was going to photograph him, or even give him any suggestions. Since his music was his life, his soul, so to speak, what better way.

My cell phone rudely bleeped on the table next to my lap top. Picking it up I recognized the name. Eloise. Now Eloise and I had been friends for a few years, but she was still a party girl, living off her rich daddy. She sometimes didn't understand that one must put work ahead of fun.

"Hi Elle! What's up?"

"I'm about to go to that new club. Want to join Ned and me?"

"I'd love to, but I have a new client and I need to find more images of how I'd like to photograph him to send him. You know, to entice him?"

"Mary, you are such a bore, you know it? You know what they say about all work and no play?"

Another call was coming through. Daniel. "Look Elle, you guys be careful. I need to go, client on the other line."

"Okay, but if you change your mind…"

"Love you E. Be safe."

I hit the button and connected with Daniel. Immediately I lowered the volume of his CD.

"Mary, I hate to bother you this late, but I thought perhaps it would help if you heard something off my new CD. It's not finished, but perhaps it would give you an idea of the music. Perhaps inspire you?"

"That would be fantastic Daniel. And you're right it would give me some inspiration."

"Good, I'm sending it to your email."

"I'll be on the lookout."

"Should be there now."

"Great. I'm going through a few old images of mine. I'll listen to it while I do. Once I find some ideas I'll email them to you."

"Or send them to my phone."

"I can do that." Why was this conversation so awkward? It wasn't earlier. Perhaps there is something else going on here.

"I'll leave you to your work then."

"Okay. Say, why don't you give me a ring back once you've had a chance to look at what I send you? We'll schedule another appointment. By then I'll have some concrete ideas for a photo shoot."

"I shall Mary, and I look forward to discussing ideas with you. I unfortunately, have a couple of concert obligations the end of this week, so we'll plan for next week."

"Not a problem, whatever works for you. I'm easy." Oh no, you did not just say that!  Can I just go slither back under my rock? What is it about this guy?

I heard him chuckle on the other end. Evidently it didn't go past him like I'd hoped. "Have a nice evening, Mary. We'll talk real soon."

"Good night, Daniel."

I popped over to my email account. Sure enough, there was Daniel's file. I got everything ready in order to listen. As the music began, I stood up from my small desk and walked into the kitchen in search of my bottle of wine. Damn he was good. But I remembered him always being a plane or two above the rest of his fellow students. He was one of those once in a lifetime ultra gifted talents and it appeared to me that he understood that and took his music quite seriously.

The evening quickly passed as I listened to Daniel's new compilation of music. I furiously scribbled notes onto paper of ideas that had begun to flow. Ideas beyond just still photos. I composed an email full of ideas and a few images and sent it. Finally I texted him with what I had just done.

A response followed minutes later.
I'm quite impressed Ms. Mary Stuart! Can't wait to discuss these fresh ideas you present. Look forward to discussing with you in person. Go to bed. It's quite late!

I had to smile, I was good at what I did, Daniel's text once again proved it. He was right. I'd had enough wine, no dinner and it was very late. I shut down my computer, satisfied with what I'd accomplished. Heading back into the kitchen I grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge along with two Nurofen from the bottle on the counter. Turning off the light as I left, I sleepily made my way down the hall towards my bedroom.

Dreams of Daniel Kennedy teased me throughout the night. His shy, mischievous smile, his easy demeanor, that handsome face of his and that body that seemed to go on forever. The alarm on my iPhone brought me back to reality. I am so screwed.

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

What was I doing? I had spent the past two days preparing for my meeting with Daniel. Images representing what I envisioned he would want for his new CD were neatly placed in a file on my computer, including notes and ideas for a video shoot for one of the tracks. Over the past several months, I’d begun dabbling in video production, so it wasn't like it was foreign to me. I looked at it as another facet of image creation—an addition to the fledgling empire I was building.

Daniel was a potential client—a very handsome, talented, celebrity client. There was that word again. Celebrity. Was I risking my anonymity by taking him on as a client? I didn't think so; and if he did bring me notoriety, so what? No one could ever accuse me of clinging to my brothers’ coattails for success.

Fussing again with the set up, I found another stool and pulled it up to the table. Perfect. Now we could both sit, as equals, while I showed him my presentation. Why was I so nervous about this man?

He only knows you from Julliard, that's all. Archangel is still safe from the world.

The door opened and I was saved from any further thoughts or second guessing. Looking up, I noted he was dressed quite similarly to the way he had been the last time he’d been here.

"Good morning, Daniel. I see the rain didn't detract."

"Good morning to you, Mary. No, its London, one has to adapt or be doomed to a life indoors." He folded the umbrella he'd come in with, placing it in the corner, behind the door. He strolled over to where I was standing.

"Are you ready to get started?" he asked excitedly.

"I'm ready. Would you care for a cup of tea? Something to warm you up from the damp?" I offered.

He chuckled softly. Just like the cadence of his speech, soft. "I would love a cup."

"I'll be right back. Make yourself at home." I gestured to the computer and where the two stools were placed, side by side.

When I came back, he was lost in thought. His chin, sporting several days’ stubble, was resting on one of his hands, his dark eyes staring out the window. I handed him the mug of hot tea and took the seat next to him.

"Did I lose you all ready?" I teased, bringing the computer screen to life.

"No, not at all. I was trying to clear my head so I would be completely open to your presentation."

"Okay, then. Are you ready?"

"Yes, by all means, let's get started. Somehow I imagine you're going to blow me away with your innovative ideas, Mary."

If he had been any other man I would have questioned his motives, intentions, or whatever, right then and there; but I could pick up no innuendos from Daniel. No games. He seemed sincere and a breath of fresh air.

I began by showing him some studio images I had done in black and white. They were quite dramatic, which was the only word I could think to describe what I’d picked up from his new music. Dramatic.

"I would like to shoot some here in the studio and turn them into black and whites. You would still be able to have color, should you have need of them sometime in the future. But I think the black and white is far more dramatic and haunting—which is perfect for this CD." He carefully watched me the entire time as I explained my idea. He was obviously interested. "I'd also like to do some more candid shots. Outdoors…"

"Or at one of my concerts? Isn't that what you were thinking?"

"Yes, a concert setting would be wonderful. Or outdoors, maybe in a field?"

"I like it. I love all your ideas, Mary-- especially the formal studio one. You're right; it would be very dramatic and appealing."

"Thank you. Could I also share an idea I have for a possible video shoot for one of the tracks?"

"Yes, of course. I would love to hear it. I wasn't aware you could handle the video aspect, as well. Tell me what you have in mind."

Other books

Strip the Willow by John Aberdein
The Mahogany Ship (Sam Reilly Book 2) by Christopher Cartwright
Bear Claw Bodyguard by Jessica Andersen
Cronopaisaje by Gregory Benford
Drifter by William C. Dietz
Songbird by Maya Banks
Diamond Duo by Marcia Gruver
The 37th Hour by Jodi Compton
The Second Coming by Walker Percy