Silverbridge Read Free Page A

him arrested for stalking, but my lawyer tells me that I am a public figure, and the press has a right to do its job.”
    “Good heavens,” he said.
    “This miserable excuse for a human being is parked outside my hotel just waiting to pounce. I don’t want you to be the other pouncee.”
    “There must be a back way out of your hotel,” he said.
    Her lips curved in acknowledgment of a hit. “There are several exits, in fact. I prefer the kitchen one myself. As far as I know, that miserable bloodhound, Counes, hasn’t found it yet.”
    “Great. Then shall we say that I’ll meet you at ten o’clock Saturday morning outside the kitchen of your hotel?”
    Tracy felt a spurt of excitement. “Okay.”
    “Uh-oh, Sidney returns,” Jon said. “I had better get into my costume before he throws a tantrum.” She l aughed, and waved, and turned away.

 
     
     
     
    2
     
     
    T racy had a very enjoyable time on Saturday with Jon. They managed to avoid the loathsome Counes and were relatively undisturbed by the tourists at the Tower. They capped the day with an excellent dinner at one of London’s best restaurants and ended it with a visit to a nightclub.
    Tracy did not find a single flaw in Jon that was egregious enough to complain to Gail about.
    On Sunday afternoon, the movie company left for Wiltshire. Tracy was feeling sleepy from a late night and dozed for most of the trip. It was almost six by the time the car pulled up to the front of a half-timbered building that was styled like a large cottage. The front yard was brilliant with massed pink tulips, and, as Tracy ascended the stone steps, a carved panel next to the front door proclaimed THE W ILTSHIRE ARMS.
    The manager himself escorted her to her suite, which was decorated with what looked like genuine antiques.
    “It’s lovely,” Tracy said politely. “What a charming hotel.”
    The manager, who had a round, babyish face and ho rn -rimmed glasses, beamed like a delighted two-year-old. “It’s not large, so we can offer personal service to all our guests. Please call me, Miss Collins, if you need anything at all.”
    Tracy said that she would, and he left as two young men in uniform came in with her luggage. As they took the bags into the bedroom, she went to look at the cards on the magnificent floral arrangements that dotted the sitting room. The flowers were from her producer, Jim Ventura; her director, Dave Michaels; the hotel management; and Jon. She was reading the card attached to the last floral arrangement when the phone rang.
    Gail answered, then put her hand over the receiver, and said, “It’s Jon Melbourne. Do you want to speak to him?”
    “Yes, of course.” Tracy went to take the phone from her secretary. “Hi, Jon. How are you?”
    “Comfortable. This is a nice hotel.”
    “It seems to be.”
    “I understand that its dining room serves the be st food in the area. Would you c are to join me for dinner tonight? Once we get started filming, we’ll be eating off the catering truck I’m afraid.”
    Tracy smiled. “From the looks of the shooting schedule, I’m sure we will. I’d like to have dinner with you. In an hour?”
    “An hour it is. See you in the restaurant.”
    “Great.” Tracy hung up and turned to her secretary. “Jon just invited me to have dinner with him.”
    Gail’s large brown eyes shone. “Now this is promising. He must have passed the first test.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” Tracy replied edgily. “I don’t have ‘tests.’ ”
    “Oh yeah? Then how come all the men you know seem to flunk them?”
    Tracy’s shoulders slumped fractionally and, all of a sudden, she looked very weary. “I don’t know, Gail.” She hooked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I just don’t know.”
    Gail said something under her breath in Spanish, then came to put an arm around her employer. “Don’t mind me, I’m only teasing. My problem is I don’t know when to stop. Have fun with Jon. I’d have dinner with him just