Chapter Three
Michael.” I knew her by the sound of her voice. Picking up the receiver while in the middle of developing film, something never do, I had to concentrate carefully in order not to ruin my work and still talk to her.
“Savannah?”
“Yes, it is. You do remember me?” she replied.
It had only been three weeks since I’d seen her. “How could I forget?”
I imagined her smiling that coy half smile that revealed so little.
“Would you be interested in doing another shoot?” she asked.
“Another? Of course. When?”
“As soon as possible. I have an anxious lover.”
“So he liked the other photographs?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you again,” she said, skirting my question. “When can you do it?”
“I think tomorrow afternoon, but not until after five.” I remembered that I
