She saw the big-hitting crime author Sean May over by the bar. She’d shot him for the January cover. ‘By which you mean, anyone who’s been in the studio in the past month?’
He nodded. ‘Pretty much, yeah. Isn’t it great?’
She looked at him. ‘First thing tomorrow, I’m firing you.’ It explained the security guards, at least.
He laughed, not remotely perturbed. ‘Party first, fire me later. I think tomorrow you’ll be thanking me. I’ll go and get you both a drink.’
Mila stepped in to her. ‘You won’t fire him, will you?’
‘As if,’ she muttered. ‘He’s the only one who can get hold of my contraband coffee.’ She scanned the room, feeling overwhelmed but also temporarily anonymous in the cherry velvet; no one had ever seen her in a dress before. ‘Is anyone even looking at the photos?’ She frowned.
‘Give them a chance!’ Mila laughed. ‘They’re all too busy checking each other out. I can’t believe you actually know all these celebs.’
‘I don’t. I shoot them, that’s all. It’s work.’
‘Lee! Lee, I’m here. I know it’s me you’re looking for!’ Noah laughed, squeezing through the crowd to get to her, people stepping aside to the let the big man through. He wrapped his arms around her and she felt her back crack; it always happened with his bear hugs. Instantly, she relaxed a little. ‘Well – and to think I thought we were doing you a favour by coming along tonight! I’ve just spent the past fifteen minutes talking to the stone-cold fox over there in the green dress.’ Both Lee and Mila glanced over to see a brunette already deep in flirtatious conversation with a man who had to be a model. ‘She’s been laughing at all my jokes. I reckon I’m in with a chance.’
‘You didn’t tell her your priest and nun story, did you?’ Mila asked.
‘Yes. Why?’
Mila patted his arm sympathetically. ‘Then you’re not in with a chance. No.’
Noah’s face fell. ‘Is Liam with you?’ Lee asked him.
‘Not with me, but he’s here somewhere,’ he said, looking around blankly. It was impossible to see straight through from one side of the gallery to the other; the life-size images were suspended on wires from the ceiling, hanging in pairs like giant mobiles. The point was for the visitor to see the image taken from behind first, then walk around to see the contrast on the front – the show was called ‘Back to Front’, after all – but no one appeared to be doing much other than talking and drinking. ‘I saw him hitting the Moscow Mules with some hottie. Talking of which, why don’t you have drinks?’
‘Don’t worry, Bart’s gone to get some for us,’ Mila said, looking increasingly nervous as people she knew only from flat screens brushed past, scented, glowing, aromatic. Unicorns. They were coming up to Lee and shaking her hand, clasping her shoulders and drawing her in for air kisses. ‘Oh my God, is that Matteo Hofhuis?’ she gasped, gripping Lee’s arm tightly.
‘Lee!’ A digital recorder was suddenly thrust in front of her as Rosa, the Vanity Fair reporter, pushed her way through, an unfortunately short man on her tail holding up a small handheld digital video camera which was going to result in an unflattering camera angle.
Lee watched the red light flash, trying to keep her cool and not think of sniper dots.
‘Daniel’s recording for the online footage,’ Rosa said dismissively, seeing her apprehensive look. ‘Listen, we’d better do this early before you’re wheeled off to chat with the great and the good. I can’t believe the crowd you’ve pulled. My editor thought this was just going to be filler, but I reckon she’ll go to a full page when she sees who’s here.’
‘Uh . . .’ Lee hesitated. There were so many people looking over at her. Did they really have to do the interview here? But it was hard to move.
‘You put your work hat on,’ Mila said, squeezing her arm. ‘Noah and I are going to actually look at the pictures. We’ll catch up with you in a bit.’
Lee felt another twitch of panic as her friends moved away, leaving her in a sea of strangers.
Rosa cleared her throat. ‘So Lee, you must be thrilled with the acclaim that has greeted this exhibition. What should people expect if they come to see it?’
She took a deep breath. This was work. ‘Well, to be shocked, for one thing. Much like the men who drove these women into the refuge, I haven’t