Encore! (Tudor Saga Book 1) Read online

  "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 futu
re. 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."

  I explained in great detail the particular track and my vision. By the time I finished passionately explaining what I wanted to create, he was grinning hugely. He obviously liked it.

  "I love it! Would you be willing to meet with my record label and management team to explain your concept? I want to do this and, of course, I want you on board. It is your idea, so I want you to supervise every aspect of the making of this video. Will you have time to do it?"

  "I'll find the time, Daniel. Just get things set up with your people and I will make myself available."

  "So, what do we do now? I definitely want you to do my new images. Do you need me to sign a contract or anything?"

  I giggled. Obviously when he made up his mind, he was locked and loaded and ready to go. "Here you go,” I said, handing him photocopied form. “Why don't you get back with me with possible dates that will work for you and we'll go from there?"

  "What about your other clients?"

  "I'll work them around you. I know you're quite busy. See, Daniel, I was listening the other day. Oh, and bring your violin. I most definitely want some shots with the two of you."

  "Good. I'll have dates to you by the end of the day and, hopefully, an appointment to meet with my staff on the video production. Thank you, Mary; I have a feeling this is going to be phenomenal."

  Suddenly, he got out of his chair and shook my hand, like any good businessman. And we were done. He was leaving, just another satisfied client excited about what I could do for them.

  He was making his way to the front door when he abruptly stopped and slowly turned around.

  "Mary? Would you like to go get some lunch?"

  Staring at him in disbelief, I stuttered out my answer. "Yes, I would love to."

  ****

  A short time later, we were seated in a quiet, nearby restaurant enjoying roast beef sandwiches and salads. Nothing over the top, just simple–the way Daniel seemed to prefer his private time.

  "Is everything okay?" he inquired, placing his sandwich back on the plate. "I thought this would be a nice way to talk and get reacquainted.” He flicked a grin in my direction before picking up his fork and taking a jab at his salad. God, even his hands were sensual. Then again, he was a musician, they should be. But that's not where my thoughts were. Playing violin was not the image coming to mind when I saw his long delicate fingers and hands. All of a sudden, I felt a cold chill race through my body.

  "Everything is wonderful. I'm glad you came up with this idea. So tell me, what do you remember about me from all those years ago?"

  Here we go! I'm sure he'll be polite. That's the way I remember him. I wouldn't expect otherwise. Problem is, I can't remember what I might have mentioned to him back then about my past. But hey, we were young and he probably doesn't remember. I was just another face in his hot, rising career.

  "More than you think," he replied, slyly. "You were a sure-of-yourself, talented violinist, who could also play piano. That I remember. You wanted to make your mark, yet somehow I always believed you were keeping something hidden. Just like now."

  Oh, I had to give him credit for being smooth. Though I'm not sure if he was flirting or not. Daniel Kennedy could be very hard to read at times. I wonder if he did it on purpose.

  "Have I left anything out, Mary?"

  "No," I replied, picking up half of my sandwich. "You pretty much hit the nail on the head, as they say. Which surprises me."

  "How so?"

  "How would you remember something so detailed about someone you have had no contact with in years? I find it fascinating."

  "Do you now? With people who had an impact on me or meant something to me, I remember odd things like that. Now what was it you were keeping hidden?"

  I took a quick bite off my sandwich and placed it back on the plate, so I wouldn’t have to answer him right away. No, he wasn't going to trick me that easily. I glanced across the table at him. Those sable brown eyes were, once again, dancing with mischief. I stared back at him intently, and with a new sense of admiration.

  "I can assure you I have no idea what you're talking about. And anyway, if I did have a secret, why would I share it with you now?"

  "Touche! Fair enough." He shook his head, that half grin still on his face, as he picked up his glass of water. "That's what intrigued me about you then, and what still does, today."

  "So, tell me Daniel, how do you spend your down-time? Assuming, of course, you have any. I imagine you have a woman stashed in every corner of the globe."

  A deep chuckle emerged from his throat as he placed his glass back on the table. "Sorry to disappoint, but I don't. I don't even have a girlfriend or significant other. My music takes up ninety-nine percent of my life, and that leaves me with just one percent for me, personally. Groupies, yes, but I don't mess with them. I'm flattered, sure, but that's all part of the professional world. And you?"

  Ah, give the man credit, again. "Nothing so exciting. And no boyfriend or significant other. Seems like the timing has always been off or something."

  "Or something? Tell me about your family. Where did you grow up? Any siblings? I’d like to know more about you. I'm sure you've read everything about me or I told you back at school. You're obviously American…"

  "British-American. My father was British and my mother's American. So, I've been back and forth all my life." Not the total truth, but not quite a lie, either. "And you? I detect a faint accent."

  "Ah, yes. My father is French and my mother is American. I was raised in France. I spend a lot of time in London because I prefer it to Paris, and my management and promoters are here.

  "Interesting," I replied. I couldn't help but smile at this devilishly handsome man. "What part of France? I'm not seeing Paris as home. Something more exotic– the south of France, perhaps?"

  "Oui, Mademoiselle. I was raised in the south of France. Provence? I'm sure you've heard of it. Quite popular with the tourists." He flashed a smile. "You didn't answer my question about siblings? Are you an only child?"

  "Brothers and one sister." It wasn't a lie and it was simple. From the smug look on Daniel's face, I wondered if he was toying with me. Maybe he knew more than he was letting on.

  "Was that so hard?"

  "No, not at all. So, tell me Mister Violin Virtuoso, how long before your new tour gets underway?"

  "Six weeks. That does give you enough time, doesn't it? To get everything done and back to me?"

  "More than enough. All we have to do is get everything scheduled, like we discussed at my studio."

  "Excellent. Unfortunately, as much as I have enjoyed this time getting reacquainted with you, I must get back to work, myself."

  "Oh, yes, I’ve got a lot to catch up on." I replied as I stood from my chair, gathering my purse.

  He took care of the bill and a few minutes later we were standing outside. Fool! You neglected to bring an umbrella. Awkward!

  Smooth as silk however, Daniel came to the rescue. "Here, let me walk you back to your door. I would feel awful if you got sick from walking in the rain after such a delightful time together."

  "Thank you. I did enjoy this, Daniel."

  Pausing at the doorway, I fumbled for my keys and unlocked the door, opening it slightly. "Tha
nks, again, and I'll be waiting to hear from you about shoot times."

  "I'll be in touch by the end of the day. How's that?"

  "Perfect."

  "Oh, one last thing. Do you get out to the club scene here much?"

  "The only time I go is if my friends drag me to some hot new place. Why?"

  "There's a mysterious performer I've seen a few times. She wears a mask to keep her face hidden. She plays violin in her act. For some reason, I figured you might have been to see her because she, too, is a violinist." He was staring directly at me as though he were trying to read my mind. "Archangel. Ever heard of her?"

  I slowly sucked in a deep breath. He can't know! There's no way. Careful with how you answer him. "Vaguely. I believe my friend, Elle, has mentioned something about her. She said there is a violin performer who is quite sporadic in her performances. Just shows up at clubs. Am I thinking of the same person?"

  The corners of his mouth curled up in a luscious smile. "Yes, that's her."

  We stood there for a second before he took the lead. He leaned in towards me and taking my hand, he kissed the back of it. Then he looked up and winked at me. "Have a wonderful afternoon, Ms. Stuart; which, by the way, we must have a talk about your name. But I will leave that for another time."

  I opened the door, started in, and turned. "You’d better hurry. I don’t imagine record label moguls like being kept waiting, even if you are one of their brightest stars."

  I shook my head and proceeded into the studio. Daniel Kennedy couldn't possibly know. Did he remember something in my playing all those years ago that reminded him of Archangel? Or was mention of it just mere coincidence?

  ****

  "Come on girlfriend! What is so damn important with your work that it keeps you from having any fun?" Eloise asked, as she threw herself down on one of the overstuffed chairs in my living room. "Who is he? And don't tell me it isn't a “he”. I know better than that." She smiled at me smugly, waiting for a reply.