Into the Wild Read Free Page B

America. Her next booking was three weeks away—the bells-and-whistles church wedding of Kylie McGraw and Jack Reynolds. Although Kylie was a fairly new friend, she was a good friend and a kind soul. Aside from the professional obligation, River felt personally compelled to afford Kylie and Jack ample time to hire a different photographer. In addition, she’d have to give Ella some sort of explanation for her hasty departure without telling her about the contents of the journal.
    Typing Cheap Airfares into her search engine with one hand and dialing her assistant with the other, River decided to stick to the generic truth. “Ella? Heads up. You’ll have to handle the studio for the next couple of weeks.”
    â€œAre you having a meltdown?”
    â€œNo. I’m flying to South America to get my life back.”

CHAPTER TWO
    Cajamarca, Peru, South America
Altitude 8,900 feet
    â€œW HAT DO YOU MEAN they canceled the shoot?”
    â€œAn executive decision.” Spenser McGraw thumbed his cell to vibrate and placed it beside his empty beer bottle as Gordo Fish, his friend and professional sidekick, dropped into an opposing chair. The popular café buzzed with good cheer, offsetting the men’s grim expressions.
    They’d flown from the Scottish Highlands to South America to film an episode for the popular cable show, Into the Wild. Spenser was the talent. Gordo was the one-man camera/audio crew. Now instead of exploring “The Legend of El Dorado,” instead of searching for a lost city of freaking gold, they’d been ordered to cool their heels in Cajamarca until the show’s new producer and a board of equally young turks hammered out the details of a new adrenaline-charged adventure. Spenser met his friend’s baffled stare. “They want to introduce an element of danger into the show.”
    Gordo frowned. “You’re kidding.”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œSomething tells me Necktie Nate is behind this.”
    The nickname they’d given to Nathan Crup, their new Armani-suited producer. “Probably.”
    â€œHas that asshole watched even one episode from the past five seasons?” Gordo complained. “We’ve battled extreme elements and hostile people. Survived mud-slides, cave-ins, avalanches and assorted injuries.”
    â€œNone of them life threatening.”
    â€œLike hell. What about the time I got food poisoning in Cairo?”
    Spenser found it amusing that a man who’d endured extreme temperatures, snakebites and altitude sickness would label the time he’d hugged the porcelain goddess in a ritzy hotel room as a near-death experience. “You weren’t even close to dying.”
    â€œI ended up in the hospital.”
    â€œBecause you called an ambulance.”
    â€œWhat I didn’t puke up shot out the other end. For three frickin’ hours. I’m telling you…” Gordo trailed off when he noticed the young woman standing next to them. “Sorry.” He squinted at her name tag. “Yara.”
    Earlier, the sultry waitress had lingered at Spenser’s table, flirting outrageously, as most women did, until he’d received the phone call from Los Angeles. Now she was back, and though she spared Gordo a glance, her focus was on Spenser. He winked, encouraging the infatuation. Yara’s pretty face and voluptuous curves were a welcome distraction from Necktie’s disappointing mandate.
    Gordo cleared his throat. “Why, yes, I would like to order something. Thank you for asking, Yara.”
    Spenser smiled at the woman, then spoke in Spanish. “He’ll have what I’m having.”
    â€œWhat are you having?” Gordo asked in English.
    â€œBeer and tamales.”
    â€œForget the tamales.”
    â€œThey’re locally famous,” Spenser teased, knowing Gordo was still fixed on the Cairo incident and the “locally famous” molokhiyya.
    â€œJust a beer,