Crash Course Derek Fee (interesting books to read txt) 📖

I haven’t exactly been lucky in the man department and that with Graham Barrett I hit the bottom of the barrel.”

“Ow, but he must have hurt.”

The smile vanished from her face. “Too damn right it hurt but not in the way you think. Take it from me, no woman needs a Graham Barrett in their life. The subject of Barrett is closed.”

“Who was the Arab?” Kane said changing the subject.

“Sheikh Safardi, he’s one of Barrett’s many backers. Graham can get blood from a stone as far as money is concerned. Safardi seems to get a kick out of sponsoring him.”

Kane glanced at the balcony and saw that both Barrett and Safardi were still staring at him and Morweena. When he turned back, he saw that the crowd was parting before him, much as the Red Sea had parted before Moses.

“And this is the star of the show,” Morweena said, a smile breaking out on her face.

A man holding a television camera with a large ESPN embossed on its side backed through the crowd while beside him another fellow held a boom microphone. The object of their interest was a fortyish, six-footer in jeans and white sweatshirt, with a baseball cap perched on the top of his long brown curls. A beautiful red-headed girl carrying a clipboard and a couple of beefy individuals who looked the definition of bodyguards completed the entourage.

Tom and Doc arrived at Morweena’s side.

“Who or what is that?” Tom asked.

“Doug Jackson,” Morweena said as though no further explanation was necessary.

Jackson was smiling and nodding at various personalities in the crowd.

“And who is Doug Jackson?” Tom asked. “The only time I’ve witnessed such gobsmacked consternation was when Leeds United won the league.”

“You’re kidding? You really don’t know who Doug Jackson is?” Morweena’s face was lit by a smile.

Tom shook his head.

“Surely even in the wilds of Leeds, everybody has heard of Doug Jackson.”

“I don’t get to watch much television. Except for the football.”

“Well, Doug is only one of the most famous TV and film personalities around today and one look at him tells you why. He’s a dish.”

Kane could see that Morweena’s opinion was shared by pretty much every other female in the room.

“Doug plays a tough-guy policeman in a series called ‘Vegas Cops’. All fast cars and even faster women. He’s done more to put the sport of powerboat racing on the map than anyone else. Most of the spectators for Sunday’s race will be there to catch a glimpse of him. And he’s not just a pretty face. He won the World Championship two years ago.”

Kane couldn’t believe this was the same tough Morweena. All he could see before him was gushing hero worship.

“Morweena, great to see you.” Jackson made a beeline for their little group and threw his arms around her. “How come that damn stupid manager of mine can’t get you onto my team? I’ve told him you’re my number one priority.

“Oh, Doug,” Morweena gushed, extricating herself from Jackson’s bear hug. “I don’t think you’ve met Tom Bell, he’s our team sponsor.”

“Good to meet you, Tom.” Jackson grabbed the Yorkshireman’s hand in a warm handshake. “I hope you’ve become a convert.”

“This is Mark Kane, our driver, and Doc Watson, one of our mechanics.”

Jackson shook both men warmly by the hand. The actor’s smile was infectious and Kane took an instant liking to him. Wilfred Micklejohn could quite easily be a wimp from the West End of London but a man with a name like Doug Jackson could only be a hunk.

Jackson looked closely at Kane. “I have two Las Vegas cops that drill me and you have the same hard look in your eyes. You and I should crack a beer together. I have this feeling that you’ll be the man to beat this year?”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Kane said and Jackson burst out laughing.

“I’ll knock some fun out of you, Mark,” Jackson said. One of the handlers approached and whispered in the actor’s ear. Doug Jackson was beginning to spend too much time in the company of the ‘little people’.

A quick flash of anger passed across Jackson’s face but was instantly banished by his practised smile. “I gotta split right now,” Jackson said indicating the video camera. “The director thinks I should be outlined against the lights of Naples. Catch you at the practice runs tomorrow. You take care of that little girl, Mark. She’s real special.”

They all watched as Jackson walked to the balcony where the television crew had set up. As promised, Jackson was placed against the backdrop of the glittering lights of Naples and a microphone was pointed at his mouth.

“Life in a goldfish bowl,” Morweena said taking in the scene.

“There are lots of people who’d change places with him,” Kane said.

She smiled her dazzling smile. “If you envy Doug Jackson, you’ll have to join a very long queue.”

“Who said that I envied him? I pity the poor bloke. All the money in the world wouldn’t pay me to have people watching my every move. Surrounded by a group of hangers-on who are waiting to disappear as soon as things begin to go sour. Have you ever seen a shark?”

“Of course I have.”.

“Then you probably know that it’s surrounded by a shoal of parasitic fish called suckerfish. They live by cleaning scraps of food from the shark’s teeth. Even though they swim around in the shark’s mouth he never eats one. They need each other. No, right now all I envy about Doug Jackson is the fact that he’s already won the World Championship. I don’t know the guy but I think that your friend Jackson might envy the likes of you and me sometimes.”

Her brow furrowed as she stared at him. “Loner, martial arts expert, natural powerboat driver, and now part-time homespun philosopher. You’re a strange fish, Mark Kane. It’s weird but we’ve been working closely together for the past few weeks and I still haven’t got a handle on who you really are.