Surrender to Destiny

 
SURRENDER TO DESTINY

By

Maggi Andersen

© copyright by Maggi Andersen, June 2011
Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, June 2011
ISBN 978-1-60394-503-5
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Chapter One

PARIS 2008

The black limousine pulled away from the wrought-iron, gated entranceway of Astrid LeClair's apartment building. It swept down the Avenue Foch, past elegant, period residences adorned with sculptures. As the car traveled past playgrounds filled with squealing children and their vigilant nannies, Astrid recalled her heated conversation with Philippe that morning. Her stomach churned.

The chestnut trees along the avenue paraded their new spring green. In the park, Parisian women looked like spring flowers themselves in the latest fashions. Through the car's tinted windows, Astrid was able to watch the world without the world watching her. It had become a novelty. As a star on the rise, she caused a sensation wherever she went in Europe. Her face graced the magazine stands and details of her life featured in the tabloids. She had been with billionaire businessman, Philippe Fabre for five years, since he pursued her relentlessly. No scandal or gossip had touched her since to feed the paparazzo's interest, but the media still hounded her, snapping her as she shopped in the local market. It was life in a gold fish bowl. Philippe pointed out she would be protected by his wealth if she married him and gave up her career to become a mother.

This morning Philippe had raised the question again and when she'd refused to be pushed, he'd exploded. At forty-seven, he was still an attractive man. Most women would think her crazy. She didn't understand it herself. She only knew she wanted something more than he could offer, something that had nothing to do with money. She decided that when her contractual obligations with this movie were finished, she would move into her own apartment. She had never lived alone. The thought of being free made her shiver with excitement and uncertainty.

The car approached the Bois de Boulogne. Astrid tapped on the pane of glass between her and the chauffeur. "We have plenty of time before the plane, Christian, please drive through the park."

They swept into the park, passing joggers and cyclists. The fact that this beautiful woodland turned into a red-light district at night attracted her, she wasn't sure why. She liked to envisage herself among the prostitutes waiting for a client to approach her. With a small intake of breath, she imagined the excitement of a passionate, clandestine sexual liaison. A starry night. The man's face in shadow, his voice deepened by passion. The bright lights of Paris twinkling through the branches, the feeling of rough bark against her spine. His hard body. The urgency of his hands and the force of his kisses.

"Should we head to the airport now, Miss LeClair?"

His grey eyes studied her in the mirror. She crossed her legs and leaned back with a sigh. "Yes, thank you, Christian."

* * * *

LONDON 2008

At the Pinewood Film Studios in Iver Heath, Buckinghamshire, Dylan Shaw climbed out of the mini-moke that had brought him from sound stage two to the building that housed his 'super star' suite. His home during the days and late into the nights for the next two months of his contract comprised of a living area, bedroom, bathroom and separate kitchen.

He felt slightly less apprehensive now the first interior scene of Painted Lady was in the can. He planned to see the rushes before he left for Ireland. Susie, a young gofer, emerged from his dressing room, giving him a cheeky smile and flicking back her hair. "Black coffee and a chicken sandwich as requested, Mr. Shaw, or should I say Blair?"

He grinned, eyeing her cute derriere encased in jeans as she passed. "Dylan will do nicely, thank you, Susie." He threw himself down on the couch. Picking up a slab of soft, white bread an inch thick, filled with chicken and mayo, he took a bite. Astrid Leclair had arrived from Paris. He'd caught his leading lady's press conference on late night television. Although not Italian, she had always been the first choice to play Gina. Their first scene together was set for next Tuesday. Tomorrow, he and some of the cast and crew headed off to Dublin for a few days shooting, and he hoped to find time for a lightning visit with his family.

Dylan threw the half-eaten sandwich back onto the plate. He took a sip of coffee and pulled a face. Weak and Tepid. He went to the kitchen to fire-up the cappuccino machine, he'd brought with him. Taking a cup and saucer from the cupboard, he thought about Astrid. He'd never met her, but rumors about her last movie made him uneasy. Her boyfriend, Philippe Fabre had a controlling interest in that picture and was seen to be difficult to work with. Thank God, he wasn't involved here, for this picture had been difficult from the get-go; the script rejected more than once, and the director clashing with the producer. After the director left in disgust, the scrabble to replace him produced another Dylan didn't much like. It seemed scenes were to be written on the run. He shrugged. Well, it worked for Casablanca.

He took a sip of coffee, perfect. After several sips he felt the kick of much needed adrenaline a good cup could be relied on to produce. Stretching out his legs he leaned back and savored the brew. To top things off, he and Jessica had gone their separate ways after a year together. It wasn't a smooth break-up. They'd both retreated with battle scars.

It was an unseasonably hot day and the air conditioner struggled to cope. Before he went over his lines, Dylan searched for music on his laptop and as Timbaland belted out Give it to me, he opened his door in search of a breeze. Astrid's name appeared on the door over the hall. He went back to check his call sheet. She would begin filming here tomorrow while he was away. They wouldn't meet until their first rehearsal scene together. Another thing that augured badly for the film, he always liked to strike up a rapport with his co-star before this. His agent told him he was to be considered for a very high profile series scheduled to begin the year after next. Scouts were out, and would check on his performance in this one.