A Touch of Winter (A Short Story) Read Online Free PDF Page B

grab anything else when fleeing the hotel. Her T- shirt was stuck to her body. And Josh expected her to interview a Hollywood heartthrob, a guy more famous for his hell- raising and womanising than his acting?
    When she opened her eyes again, Scarface was staring at her.
    ‘I’m on it.’ Abbie dropped the handset into the receiver and, picking up her rucksack, she ran.
    The men were surprised by her sudden flight. She heard a chair scraping noisily against the tiles and a bottle crashing to the floor. Pushing her way through the waiting passengers, she fled across the lobby, ignoring the shouts of the men racing behind her. Abbie only slowed when she spotted the armed security personnel. Toncontín also served as a military airport and she didn’t want to be arrested or shot by mistake.
    A quick glance over her shoulder told her that Scarface hadn’t been so lucky. The men had been stopped. Maybe she might get out of this after all. She hurried along the main hall. Most of the desks were closed and the man at the charter desk was pulling down the shutters.
    ‘My name is Abbie Marshall. You should have had a call about this. I’m getting a ride on the Standard Studios jet.’
    He glanced at his watch and gave her an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry Ms Marshall, but you’re too late. The jet is ready for departure.’
    Abbie looked over her shoulder. Scarface and his buddy had been released. ‘Please, I have to get out of here tonight.’
    As the man sized her up Abbie gave him a look that she hoped conveyed the right mix of desperation and sympathy for his difficult job. Her life depended on changing his mind.
    He made a snap decision. ‘ OK , but we’ll have to run.’ He ushered her behind the desk and through a small door at the back. She followed him along a maze of concrete corridors, through an emergency door and out into the night. The thick, humid air hit her face like a furnace.
    ‘Hurry.’ He grabbed her arm and dragged her along the tarmac until she thought her lungs would burst. Up ahead, she could see the sleek white outline of a wa iting jet. Two figures in high- viz waistcoats were pulling the portable steps away.
    ‘No! Wait!’ Abbie said. Waving her arms and yelling, she raced for the plane. The ground crew finally heard her and paused, leaving the steps in place for another few precious seconds.
    She launched herself up the steps and through the door at the top, landing on her hands and knees. She stayed there, panting, trying to catch her breath before she had to deal with her fellow passengers.
    ‘Are you OK ?’ asked a tall man, who helped her to her feet and gave her a reassuring smile.
    Still trying to control her racing heartbeat and loud breathing, Abbie smiled back. ‘I am now.’ He was cute, with brown hair and blue eyes, and an Irish accent to die for.
    An older man, already strapped into his seat, frowned at her. ‘Were we expecting you?’ he asked, glancing at his watch. His expensive suit didn’t quite conceal the beginnings of a potbelly or thinning hair, and his air of self- importance set her teeth on edge.
    She stood up and dusted herself down. ‘I believe you were. I’m Abbie Marshall, New York Independent . I’m here to interview Jack Winter.’ She tried to make it sound as if that was the only reason she was on the plane.
    ‘No so fast, Ms Marshall. I’m Mr Winter’s agent. Everything should be cleared through me.’ He pulled out his smartphone.
    ‘This is Zeke Bryan,’ the younger man said.
    ‘Mr Bryan.’ She nodded politely, but made no effort to shake his hand. ‘ New York Independent . I believe an interview was agreed with us some time ago. Part of Mr Winter’s contract with Standard Studios.’
    The agent looked in two minds but before he could say anything else, the younger man flashed her a smile and said, ‘Oh, give it a rest, Zeke, it’s not as if we can’t use some female company on the flight.’
    The agent sat back in his seat scowling,