A Promise of Passion

by Maggie Carpenter

  She had no idea the onlookers were hypnotized by what they were seeing. No-one was moving, or speaking, or drinking their coffee, and unseen at the back of the room, Harry Harrison and Alana were standing together, both in awe of the magic they were witnessing.

  “That’s it!” Peter suddenly declared, and handing his camera to his assistant, he hurried across to Vivien and wrapped her in a bear hug.

  “You beautiful, beautiful girl,” he breathed. “You gave me your soul, you beautiful girl.”

  Still lost in the emotion, Vivien sank into the comfort, silently releasing the last of her tears, then slowly pulling back she stared into the photographer’s warm eyes.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “You’ve brought me back. I know how to do this again.”

  “Not me, babe, the guy you were thinking about when you were staring in my camera, he’s the one who brought you back. I just captured it on film. These pictures are going to blow people’s minds. Your eyes, your body language, they ran the gamut of emotions…it was unreal.”

  As the lights were powered off, Jenny approached with a bottle of water. Gratefully accepting it, Vivien looked past the dead lights into the room beyond, and amongst the people milling around she saw Harry and Alana. They were deep in conversation, and as if sensing Vivien’s gaze, Harry turned his head and smiled at her, placing his arm around Alana’s shoulder as he did.

  The same uncomfortable feeling she’d felt at the restaurant the night before trickled through her. Seeing the look on her face Peter followed her gaze, and spying the Harry Harrison in the flesh, he kissed her on the check.

  “I’d better go and schmooze,” he said hastily. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she nodded, “better than okay. Thanks, Peter. You go, you need to.”

  As Peter strode away, and Jenny started talking about how fabulous the shoot had been, Vivien continued to watch Alana draping herself over the billionaire at her side.

  “I think I need to change and get out of here,” she declared. “I’d rather not be here when Alana starts her shoot.”

  “Sure,” Jenny nodded. “Let’s get back into wardrobe.”

  It was only a matter of minutes before Vivien had slipped out of the clothes they’d provided and back into her own, and moving through the curtain, she saw Alana walking towards her.

  “Great stuff,” Alana said as they passed each other.

  “Thanks,” Vivien replied. “Good luck.”

  Continuing on to the staircase, she could feel her heart racing. Something was out of kilter, and it wasn’t about the shoot. She knew it had been fabulous. It was about Harry Harrison and Alana.

  “This is crazy,” she muttered. “What’s the matter with me?”

  “They say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.”

  She froze. It was Harry’s voice, and turning around she found him standing behind her.

  “You’d make a good cat burglar,” she quipped.

  “Not really, I’m more a dog person,” he said in mock seriousness, then broke into a smile. “Sorry if I startled you. I wanted to tell you how great you were just now.”

  “Thank you. The photographer, he knew what to say and how to say it,” she managed, trying to compose herself. “He’s very good.”

  “Yes, he is, he’s excellent. I wouldn’t be using him if he wasn’t.”

  “No, of course you wouldn’t,” she replied, feeling slightly embarrassed.

  She could feel his eyes on her, as if he was looking right through her, and he was emanating the same powerful energy she’d felt when he’d escorted her to the door after her interview. Standing so close to him it was almost palpable.

  “Did you hear the good news?” he asked.

  “You mean, about shooting at your Chateau?”

  “Ah, so you have,” he nodded. “Did Gustav fill you in on what the Chateau is about?”

  “He did, and I also looked it up online this morning. It’s quite something. You’re right, Mr. Harrison. It will be ideal for his clothing line.”

  “Harry,” he frowned. “Please, call me Harry.”

  “Okay, Harry,” she nodded, feeling awkward.

  “I must say, Vivien, after watching you just now, I am very much looking forward to seeing you work again.”

  “Thank you. I’m very flattered that Gustav waited for me to get back.”

  “I can see why he did,” Harry said, staring at her, then reaching out his hand he softly touched her upper arm. “I’ll say goodbye for now. I want to watch Alana and they’ll be starting soon. After what happened last night with the police, I’m keeping an eye on her.”

  “I saw the police arrive,” Vivien said, a frown crossing her face. “I don’t mean to pry, but can I ask what that was about?”

  “Alana has an uncouth fan,” he said, lowering his voice. “I moved her into my penthouse so she’d be safe.”

  “Oh, I see,” she mumbled, strangely unnerved by both the information, and his hand still resting on her arm.

  “She hasn’t heard from him again,” he continued, “but I’ve invited her to join us at the Chateau so she’ll be truly out of harm’s way, at least for a while. All on the up-and-up of course.”

  “None of my business,” she said hastily, feeling even more awkward. “I should be going.”

  “As should I,” he smiled, dropping his hand away, “but before you go, I would like you and Dominic to come over and join Alana and me at my penthouse for dinner tomorrow night. Say around, seven o’clock? I’ll invite Gustav as well, though he might be too busy preparing for the shoot.”

  “Oh, uh, I’ll have to ask Dominic. I don’t know if he has plans.”

  “You’ll let me know. Call my office and tell Madeline.”

  “I will, thank you,” she replied.

  She watched him walk across to the set, and a moment later Alana appeared from behind the curtain. As she met up with Harry, he put his arm around her waist and whispered something in her ear. Bristling, Vivien hurried up the stairs, not even thinking about how she’d get home until she was intercepted by the young woman who had met her when she’d arrived.

  “Your car is waiting,” the girl said with a bubbly, youthful smile. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Finally sitting in the back seat of the limousine, Vivien let out a long, grateful sigh. Soon she would home, and she would find comfort in Dominic’s warm, strong arms, but comfort from what? Was she really feeling jealous of Alana’s growing closeness with Harry Harrison? And if she was, why?

  As Vivien was being driven through the city, Dominic was sitting on a dark brown, leather chesterfield couch, in Walter Fairmont’s study, trying to make sense of what his wealthy friend had just told him.

  “I am not sure I am understanding you correctly,” Dominic said slowly. “You want to pay me double my fee to paint your son and daughter, and it’s double the fee for each of them, but I must start right away, paint them at your country estate, and I must live there for the time that I am painting them.”

  “That’s right, and I’ll pay in cash, so you won’t have to report the income.”

  “I am very confused. Why do you wish to pay me so much?”

  “I need the work done immediately, and I know I’ll be taking you away from your life for a while.”

  “Walter, I am deeply honored by this offer, but I am already obligated to another job. What you are asking is impossible.”

  “I’ll triple it, three times as much for each painting!” Walter exclaimed. “Four times, if I must.”

  “Stop, please, Walter, you must stop. Why is this so important, and why must they be done now?”

  “They just do!” the man exclaimed, then moved quickly to stand by the window and stare out at his majestically landscaped garden.

  Rising to his feet, Dominic walked across the room and stood by his side.

  “Please, Dominic,” Walter solemnly pleaded, continuing to gaze out at his beloved plants. “Please do this for
me.”

  “My friend,” Dominic said warmly, lowering his voice and gently touching Walter’s arm, “you need to tell me what this is about. All of it, and together we will find the answer. It is not about portraits of your children.”

  A heavy silence filled the room, and letting out a deep sigh, Walter finally turned and faced him.

  “You’re right,” Walter murmured, “and to be honest, even if you’d accepted I wouldn’t have gone through it, I couldn’t. It’s not in me. I’m an honorable man, and if I don’t have my honor, what do I have?”

  “Mon Dieu, Walter, please tell me, what is happening?”

  “It’s a bit early, but I need a drink, and then I’ll tell you everything. Let the chips fall…as they say.”

  Dominic watched the troubled businessman walk to the eighteenth century cabinet against the wall, and pour a generous amount of amber liquid from a cut crystal glass decanter.

  “You’d better sit down,” Walter suggested moving back to him, “and prepare yourself. It’s a short story, but it’s not pretty.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Vivien had been home for almost an hour, and with no word from Dominic she was getting worried, so when the landline phone on the side table next to the sofa pierced the air with its loud ringing she raced to answer it.

  “Hello, Dominic?”

  “No, Vivien, it’s Robson.”

  Of all the people in the world that could have been on the other end of the line, her former fiancé, the man who had duped her, and would have assaulted her were it not for Dominic, was the last person she expected. The shock of hearing his voice made her heart stop, and dropping into the couch she gripped the phone.

  “What do you want?” she demanded. “I can’t believe you’re calling me.”

  “I come in peace,” he said softly. “I heard you were in town. Your photograph was in this morning’s paper.”

  “It was? I didn’t see it, but that doesn’t matter. Why are you calling me?” she repeated.

  “I’m not sure if you heard, but I’m getting married this weekend.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “The thing is,” he began, “I, uh…”

  “What is it, Robson?”

  “I have to see you and Dominic, just for five minutes. I’ll understand if you say no, but I promise you, I wish you both only happiness. I swear.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I have something for you, something important. At least, it’s important to me, and perhaps it will be to you as well. If you and Dominic are available tonight, just five minutes, please, Vivien.”

  She didn’t know what to say. He sounded completely sincere, but then, he’d sounded completely sincere the day he’d enticed her to his home, and then attacked her.

  “Vivien,” he pressed, dropping his voice, “I truly mean you no harm, not you, or Dominic. I’ve been seeing a therapist, and I really need to see you.”

  Clutching the phone, she closed her eyes, searching for an answer, and finally decided to agree.

  “Okay,” she sighed. “Where do you want to meet up?”

  “Thank you, Vivien, truly, thank you.”

  She was surprised at the level of appreciation and relief in his voice. Had it been real? Had Robson genuinely changed, or was he up to his old tricks?

  “This is very private,” he continued, “so I was wondering if I could swing by your flat.”

  “Come around six o’clock.”

  “Thank you, again,” he said earnestly. “I’ll see you then.”

  Hoping she hadn’t made a terrible mistake she hung up the phone, then taking a deep breath she decided to make herself a cup of tea. Moving unsteadily into the kitchen she put the kettle on to boil, and as she pulled a cup and saucer from the cupboard she heard the front door open.

  “Dominic,” she called, running out to meet him. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  “And I am happy to see you,” he smiled as she fell into his arms.

  “It’s been such a weird afternoon,” she declared.

  “It has,” he vehemently agreed, “it certainly has!”

  “For you as well?”

  “Oui, for me as well.”

  “I’ve just put the kettle on.”

  “Perfect. We will sit at the kitchen table and talk over tea. A very English thing for an American and a Frenchman,” he remarked with a smile.

  “But it works,” she declared.

  “It does. So, I will take off my jacket, and you will tell me about the test shots.”

  “I have other news first,” she said soberly. “Robson is coming over here at six o’clock. He said he has something important to give us, and he sounded very sincere.”

  “Mon Dieu! Your former fiancé is a crazy man. Have you forgotten what he did to you?”

  “I’ll never forget,” she said gravely, “but I believed him when he said he meant us no harm. He sounded…different.”

  “I will be ready if he tries anything,” Dominic frowned as they headed into the kitchen.

  Vivien made the tea, and set a plate of biscuits on the table, while Dominic listened attentively as she told him about the shoot, including how the photographer had helped her, and that her memories had made the whole thing work.

  “It was all kinds of amazing,” she smiled. “You were in my mind the whole time.”

  “I’m am so happy it went so well for your, ma chérie,” he said warmly.

  “There’s more though,” she said dramatically. “Harry and Alana…it looks as if they’re developing a relationship, or in one already.”

  “They would be the perfect couple,” Dominic remarked. “They are both, what is the word? Tough? No, that’s wrong, but they are the same. They both demand, they both have too much self-love.”

  “You mean, they’re both narcissists?”

  “Oui, narcissists, that’s what they are.”

  “You could be right about that,” Vivien said thoughtfully, placing their teacups on the table. “Are you ready for the capper?”

  “The capper? I am not familiar with this phrase.”

  “Oh, the capper means, the icing on the cake, or an extra thing that happened.”

  “Ah, so what is this, capper?”

  “We’ve been invited to join them for dinner at his penthouse tomorrow night.”

  “Je t'en prie, non!”

  “I don’t know what you just said.”

  “Please, no.”

  “I agree,” she mumbled. “I can always turn him down.”

  “Probably not a good idea to say no to Harry Harrison. Perhaps a compromise?”

  “How could there be a compromise for something like that?”

  “Tell him I have a former engagement for dinner, but we could stop by for cocktails before we go.”

  “You are a genius,” she smiled. “That’s exactly what I’ll do. I honestly don’t know why he invited us?”

  “I think he wishes to show you his luxury home.”

  “Why would he want to do that?”

  “To impress you,” Dominic said leaning across the table.

  “I doubt it. He flew me here in his private jet. If that didn’t impress me, I doubt seeing his home will.”

  “But it did impress you, Vivien,” he remarked, locking her gaze.

  Staring back at him, she took a breath and slowly nodded.

  “Maybe, yes,” she admitted. “I guess it did.”

  His eyes were boring into hers, as if he was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t quite figure out what that something was.

  “It’s your turn,” she said, reaching down and selecting a cookie. “What happened with Walter Fairmont?”

  Dominic shook his head and sighed, then sitting back he picked up his tea he took a long swallow.

  “Was it something serious?” she asked, surprised by the sober look on his face.

  “It is a very complicated situation,” he said grimly. “I have been sworn to secrecy, at l
east for the moment, and it is better you don’t know. It would be a burden, one you shouldn’t have on your shoulders.”

  “A burden for me? How? I don’t even know this man.”

  “You must trust me, ma chérie. I have to tell you some unfortunate news, and when I do, you must trust me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I cannot come to the Chateau with you, not yet.”

  “What? No, that’s not fair,” she protested, her face crinkling.

  “Please, just listen,” he said firmly. “This is très important.”

  “Why does everything have to happen at once?” she grumbled.

  “It is the way of life,” he said solemnly. “Everyone has this, not just us, but now you must pay attention.”

  “Okay, I’m listening,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed though.”

  “I am too, and as I think about this more, I realize I should not come with you to the penthouse. You go and have the drink, and then come home. Harry will not be happy if you don’t show up.”

  “But-“

  “Again I say, trust me,” he said firmly, cutting her off. “This is for the best. While you are there you will tell him I cannot come to the Chateau because I have just received a new commission. You don’t know any details.”

  “All right. I’ll tell him.”

  “No matter what he asks, or how he asks, you don’t know anything.”

  “That’s easy,” she said, gesturing with her hand. “I don’t know anything, but can’t you please tell me what’s going on? I won’t say anything. Not knowing is making me worry.”

  “You don’t need to be, not about me. This problem, it isn’t my problem, but I am going to help my friend.”

  “It won’t put you in danger, will it? Do you promise?”

  “No, I don’t see danger for me, not for me.”

  “That’s a relief at least! I’m supposed to let him know, so I should call his office and tell Madeline.”

  “There another thing you must do when you are there, besides tell him I’m not coming to France with you.”