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It would be somewhere she felt comfortable in and comforted by. A haven.
They had looked at a dozen houses in various towns in the vicinity of Hollywood, but as soon as they’d driven up to Whitewood House, Freya knew it was the one.
And Mayleaf, as a town, was perfect. It was small, with a handful of shops and eateries, a gas station, a town hall, a high school, one bar and a diner. As clichéd as it was, it reminded Freya of every small town she’d ever seen on any American movie. But it was its sense of community Freya really loved.
It was so close knit and everyone knew each other and the benefits of this far outweighed the downsides as far as she was concerned.
The town had been nothing but welcoming to Nicholas and Freya and they’d even introduced some new town laws banning journalists from entering the Town Circle. This basically meant they couldn’t be pestered when they were in the town centre. It also meant they could participate in town gatherings and activities without being spied on by the press. At present, the town elders were discussing whether or not to increase the boundaries of the Town Circle to incorporate Nicholas and Freya’s house. That would stop the photographers congregating there.
Freya knew some of the decisions had been made because they’d made a considerable donation towards the repair of the town hall roof, but no one treated them any differently in any other respect and they both liked that.
Freya’s new photography business, Exposure, had been established half an hour’s drive away in the affluent city of Carlton. Freya had originally wanted to set up her business in Mayleaf itself, but there weren’t suitable premises. In the end, having discussed it with Nicholas, she decided Carlton was the best option as it was closer to the main road from the airport and would be easier for people to get to.
Since her explicit photographs of Nicholas had been auctioned for charity and news of their engagement was announced, everyone who was anyone in Hollywood wanted Freya to take their picture.
At first, Freya found the prospect of this frightening, but having now shot dozens of A-list celebrities, it was becoming a lot more comfortable. And this morning’s meeting with Sadie Fox was a chance to get into the fashion industry. That could mean big business.
If Freya was truthful, she’d much rather photograph a craggy landscape or the ocean at sunset, but she knew she had a real talent for capturing something different in people when she photographed them.
And she was making the most of this current popularity, taking the business, making the money and giving away the majority of it. It was her plan to benefit as many people as possible with the money. That ethic was the complete opposite to her parents and their ostentatious lifestyles. She liked being the opposite of them.
When Freya arrived at her studio, her assistant, Sasha was waiting at the entrance with a polystyrene cup in one hand and a large pastry in the other.
Sasha was tall, slim, blonde and twenty-five. When Freya interviewed for the position of her assistant, she’d been determined to hire a man, because that was what she’d been used to. She’d also been determined not to hire anyone who was younger, slimmer or more attractive than she was, despite what employment law stipulated. However, Sasha had shown more enthusiasm in photography than the rest of the candidates put together. She was also computer literate and made good tea. There was no competition.
‘Morning, Sasha, well timed as always. Mmm, what flavour is this one?’ Freya asked as she took the pastry and sank her teeth into it.
‘It’s dark chocolate today. Milo at the patisserie is trying out a new recipe and he wanted me to let him know what you think,’ Sasha replied, following Freya through the reception area and into her office.
‘Mmm, well tell him I love him. This is so good. Right, so, appointments for today. Sadie Fox at nine and…’ Freya started, sitting down in her chair.
‘Actually, Sadie Fox called earlier and she’s had to cancel. She apologised and said something about having to fly to Paris urgently this morning,’ Sasha informed.
‘Oh no! Sasha! Why didn’t you call me? I passed up sex with my fiancé for that appointment. Have you seen how attractive my fiancé is?’ Freya exclaimed in horror.
‘Yes, I have,’ Sasha said, nodding.
‘You don’t pass up sex with someone as handsome as that unless it’s really crucial. Damn that woman!’ Freya stated, leaning backwards in her chair and taking another bite of the pastry.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to call your cell because I assumed you’d be driving,’ Sasha spoke.
‘Which is why they invented the hands-free kit. Look, never mind. I’m sure the no-sex thing can be remedied later. So, who else is booked in today?’ Freya asked.
‘Just someone who phoned this morning. Someone called Jonathan Sanders.’
Freya paled immediately, not certain she had heard her assistant correctly. It was a name instantly familiar to her.
‘Sorry, Sasha, run that one by me again. Did you say Jonathan Sanders?’ Freya checked.
‘Yes I did. Is that a problem?’
‘Yes. No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. Was he English?’ Freya asked, putting the pastry down on top of a photography magazine on her desk.
‘Yes. Very well-spoken.’
‘Well-spoken. Perhaps it isn’t who I’m thinking of in that case,’ Freya responded, taking a sip of her tea.
The Jonathan Sanders Freya was thinking of was the boy she’d begun dating when she was just sixteen. He’d been her first love and they’d been serious. Serious enough for Freya to tell him her real name was Jane Lawson-Peck and for her to introduce him to her parents. Days after that meeting, her father paid him to leave her and she hadn’t seen him since. That was over thirteen years ago.
