The Love Island Bookshop Kate Frost (best ereader for pdf and epub .TXT) 📖

vaguely familiar, with striking cheekbones and little make-up, someone Freya felt she should know. She was also British but had an accent that was hard to place, much like Zander’s and Aaron’s. Freya thought that she was probably well travelled.

‘Freya, this is Annie Blake-Anderson, she’ll be photographing you today. She used to work for Vogue and has photographed some of the biggest names in fashion; you’ll be in good hands.’

On hearing her name, Freya realised why she looked familiar. The nerves she’d felt at the mention of a photo shoot that morning was nothing compared to how she was feeling now. Her palms started sweating and she was beginning to wish she’d skipped lunch.

‘Gorgeous.’ Annie lifted Freya’s chin and studied her. ‘Well, you’re going to make my job a lot easier today. Have you ever modelled?’

‘Um, no, never. I mean nothing beyond having my photo taken for work or at an event.’

‘Freya worked as an editor for Bloom & Cole back in the UK,’ Zander said, leaning on the edge of the counter.

‘Oh, I know Esther; we go way back. Not much cause for photo shoots there I suppose, although I’ve photographed Mia Jacobsen – she’s with Bloom & Cole, no?’

‘Yes, she’s one of their main clients. I didn’t work directly with her. My list was quite new, you know, up and coming authors.’

‘She writes killer crime thrillers – excuse the pun.’ Annie smiled as she stood back and studied Freya. ‘Right, I think we’ll start off in here then move to the beach.’

At least it was cool in the bookshop with the air conditioning on. She wasn’t against taking selfies, she had plenty of them on her social media, but she was in control of which ones she published and which filter to use. She told herself there was no way that Zander would have any images gracing the Loabi Fushi website that weren’t perfect. As she perched on the stool behind the counter with a copy of Alex Garland’s The Beach in her hand, she took a deep breath. Annie started clicking away, angling a lamp and a reflective sheet to get the best light and every so often giving Freya notes to ‘lift your chin’, ‘look slightly down’, ‘open your lips a touch’. Freya did as she was told, relaxing into the shoot as Annie moved her to a stool in front of the open window. She rested her chin on her hands and gazed out at the view with a tower of books curated by Zander piled next to her, while Annie snapped the shot from outside.

Zander was mostly a silent bystander, but Freya noticed Annie checking in with him before each shot. By late afternoon they took the shoot outside. The golden sun was a little lower in the sky and cast a soft, magical light across the beach.

The trees and the bookshop were the backdrop to begin with and Freya actually enjoyed herself. Annie manoeuvred Freya beneath a palm tree and got her to lean against it, the sole of one foot resting against the rough trunk, The Great Gatsby clasped to her chest. She gazed up into the leafy fronds above. It was an uncomfortable position to hold for too long, but the pose felt like something out of a fashion shoot and she imagined how it must look, with the bright white sand, the earthy tones of the tree trunks and the glimpse of the bookshop behind.

A waiter arrived with a tray of fruity mocktails, and they stopped for a break to enjoy them in the shade of the seating area. Annie showed Zander the images she’d taken. Freya nursed her drink and watched Zander’s reaction, the nods and an occasional narrowing of his eyes.

‘Show Freya that one.’

Annie turned the camera round. She couldn’t see it in too much detail but she got the sense of the shot. She was shocked by how little she recognised herself. She looked like a model leaning against a tree clasping a book; it took her completely by surprise.

‘I think we’ve found our winner there.’ Zander nodded as Freya met his eyes.

‘I think so too. We’ll look through them properly once I’ve uploaded them. But now,’ Annie said, finishing her drink and standing up. ‘Let’s have some fun.’

They ventured down the beach, to where the warm water of the lagoon kissed the shore. It was still hot – it was always hot – but the intense heat had dissipated and the slightest breeze drifted in. Freya wriggled her toes in the sand. The grains were so soft they ran over her skin like silk. On Annie’s request, she padded down the beach to the shallows. Maybe it was because she’d had time to relax into the shoot or because Annie was skilled at putting her at ease and getting the best from her subjects, but Freya enjoyed being uninhibited with Annie and almost forgot that Zander was watching. The water was as warm as a hot tub and clear enough to reveal tiny almost invisible fish darting away. A black-tipped reef shark swam past. The water shimmered, the house reef hidden beneath it waiting to be discovered. It was hard not to envy the guests who got to enjoy all the island had to offer on a daily basis. But their time was limited, while she had nine months to live and breathe island life. And work of course, although the idea of recommending and selling books on a Maldivian island hardly felt like work, nor did a photo shoot with a world-famous photographer while the handsome resort owner looked on.

Freya strolled in the shallows and Annie called out instructions every so often, to look sideways, to look wistful, to turn and face the ocean with her hands in the air. The bottom of her maxi skirt was wet and deliciously cool against her legs. She hitched it up as she walked from the warm water on to the soft dry sand.

Zander was leaning against the