Chapter Thirteen
Elle
When Seth and I—andFlynn, who’d shadowed me to the beach and back—got back to the house, we discovered that we’d picked up a stalker. A photographer with a giant telephoto lens, camped out in the trees just beyond Woo’s property line. He’d made himself comfy on the other side of the low stone wall that surrounded the back yard. As if we wouldn’t notice him there in theshadows.
Flynn spotted him rightaway.
“Fucking paparazzi,” Joanie muttered, tromping out onto the patio to meet us, where she’d set out our breakfast. Not that the paparazzo was photographing Joanie; Joanie wasn’t famous. But I could see how feeling like you were being stalked could ruin your meal,regardless.
“You want me to evict?” Flynn asked me. Clearly, he was chomping at the bit to bounce the photographer out on his ass. Probably bored out of his tree and jonesing for a littleexcitement.
I didn’t exactly enjoy being stalked on my vacation, but I’d learned long ago not to take it personally. Not to let it ruin my meal, much less myday.
“Not yet,” I said. Joanie had taken great pains to make crepes, something she’d been working on mastering, and I was determined to enjoy them with my mimosa and the LA Times online. “I’ll give him something. Then maybe he’ll scurryaway.”
I had no love for the paparazzi, but I knew how to play the game. It would be best if we just let him get a few shots of us. Doing absolutely nothing. Maybe after we’d finished eating, I’d paint my nails and Seth could trim hisbeard.
He wanted to invade our personal time? I could waste his like nobody’s fuckingbusiness.
After that, I’d let Flynn go tell him to fuck off. Flynn could be verypersuasive.
But Seth hadn’t followed us onto the patio; he’d paused at the gate into the yard, and I turned to watch as he strolled back out toward the tree line—straight on over to the photographer. He had his hands in his pockets, and I watched him chat with the man for a few minutes. Once, he looked back atme.
Then he strolled into the yard and over tome.
“What was that about?” I askedhim.
He stood in front of me, shielding me from the photographer with hisbody.
“I made a deal with him,” he said. “Told him we’ll give him five minutes to take photos of us on the beach, and then he’ll leave us alone for the rest of the time we’rehere.”
“Sounds like a good deal,” I said. “Forhim.”
“It’s a good deal for all of us,” Seth said. “That’s Bob Brazer. He pretty much owns this island among the paparazzi. He’ll let the others know they can’t shoot us either. No one will bother usagain.”
“Youknowhim?”
“Met him a few times over the years. Decentguy.”
I snorted in disbelief. I couldn’t say I recognized Bob Whatever; I never really looked at their faces. Just saw their camera lenses ogling me, and I usually kept my distance as much as I could. I didn’t care to form relationships with them like some celebrities did. To me, they were all cockroaches. Bottom-feeders. At least, the ones who spied on me from the bushes while I was on vacation sure as hellwere.
“I doubt that,” Isaid.
“Or I can tell him the deal’s off,” Seth said, “and we can leave him toFlynn.”
I glanced at Flynn. Clearly, he preferred thatplan.
“But he might come back,” Seth added. “Or someone else might come along. Now that they know we’rehere…”
“No,” I said, glancing from Seth to the photographer. “If you take this guy’s word… I’ll trustit.”
Seth nodded. “Okay.”
“AfterI finish mybreakfast.”
* * *
Almost an hour later,I emerged from the house to find Seth and the photographer talking at the edge of the yard. I was glad to see they were standing outside the stone wall; I didn’t want that guy on Woo’s property. At least he’d changed his camera lens. Since we were actually letting him shoot us, he’d removed the stalker lens and replaced it with a slightly less-intrusiveone.
