‘How is he?’
‘Doing well. I think he’s actually enjoying the cooler weather in Scotland.’
‘He might change his mind in winter.’
‘He might.’ Sophie bit her lip. ‘You were actually the reason he rang me.’
‘Oh…?’
‘Mmm. Do you remember the guy at Zara’s wedding? Raven Vale?’
Luc made an unflattering sound. ‘Hard to forget.’
‘His article came out inVogue Weddingslast week. Have you seen it?’
‘No. Do I need to?’
Sophie shrugged. ‘Not really. His photos are okay. His writing is too flowery for my taste but Zara will be delighted at his descriptions of her. The staff at the Château d’Orval should be a lot happier now and he’s dropped credits to everyone else, as they do – my business, Florence the florist, the caterers, limousine service. He also mentioned that you’d covered for the usual photographer that we use. The “enigmaticPhénix”, he called you.’
Luc raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that a problem?’
‘Not for me. But Greg said he got a call from Mr Vale, just before the article went live. He was trying to find out how to contact you.’
Luc’s expression confirmed her suspicion that being contacted by Raven was very low on any list of things he wanted to happen. She could sympathise with that. The thought of being targeted by a journalist who already knew more about her than she was comfortable with sent a chill down her spine. She suspected Raven’s interest in Luc was personal and had nothing to do with her but that didn’t stop a powerful urge to try and make sure the contactdidn’thappen. Where on earth had what felt like a need to protect Luc Moreau come from, after so many years of hating him?
Sophie knew the answer to that. It was what Tom would have felt even without any evidence that Luc might be under threat.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Greg didn’t give him any information. He didn’t even let on that he had any idea what your real name is. He just thought you should know that Raven’s on the hunt and he sounded like he wasn’t going to give up in a hurry.’
‘It’s no big deal,’ Luc said. ‘It’s not like it’s some huge secret. It was just part of the game, I guess. People love a bit of mystery. And it wouldn’t have helped my mainstream business if it was common knowledge. I mean, who’d want to hire a food photographer who likes throwing rubbish around or burning things?’ He shrugged. ‘I’ll give Greg a call and thank him for at least slowing down the hunt, but if Raven Vale does turn up on my doorstep, I’ll deal with him.’
Was this a rejection of protection he didn’t realise Sophie might be willing to provide? She knew she should get on with what Luc had actually come here for. She knew that it could be considered a step in the wrong direction to ask personal questions but… she was curious. ‘How does Greg know you well enough to be able to ask for big favours with no prior warning?’
‘I met him at a photography show in Birmingham. He recognised that my camera bag was a vintage Leica case and we got talking. Turned out we had a passion for the cameras and for home developing. We’ve kept in touch ever since. I like him.’
‘Me too. He’s been like a dad to me, especially since my own father died.’
There was a beat of silence.
‘I’m sorry to hear that about your dad,’ Luc said quietly. ‘Didn’t he bring you up by himself? Hannah told me that your mother had died when you were very young.’
Sophie nodded but averted her gaze. She didn’t want to talk about her mother. She leaned forward and opened the Manila file lying on the coffee table as a signal that any topics of personal conversation had been dismissed.
‘Donc… this is all confidential,’ she told Luc. ‘I’ll have to ask you to sign anNDAbefore we go much further and they’ve made it clear there’s not to be any trademark Phoenix-style photography. Leaking of any details to social media or the internet is banned but I think you’ll be very happy with what they’re going to pay you as the sole photographer.’ She looked up as she extracted the printedNDAfrom the folder. ‘You’ll also be pleased to know that any magazine coverage is out of the question, too, so Raven Vale won’t be turning up.’
It was obvious that Luc was stunned by the fee offered.
He blew out a breath. ‘That’ll be half the dry rot dealt with in one hit,’ he said, so quietly it sounded like he was talking to himself.
But it was Sophie’s turn to blink. ‘Dry rot?’
‘I’ve bought an old house in London,’ Luc muttered. ‘There are some major renovations needed. This will be a timely windfall. The reason I’m going back to London is to meet with some contractors tomorrow to discuss their quotes.’
‘Must be a big house,’ Sophie said, ‘if it’s going to be that much just to fixhalfthe dry rot.’
Luc nodded. He was scanning the definition of the confidential information the legal contract was covering in the non-disclosure agreement. ‘Huge,’ he murmured.
‘Whereabouts in London?’
