‘I guess so.’

He hesitated. ‘Your husband I recognized right away from the telly. Even in these sticks we get some of your important basketball games – especially the Boston Celtics. But, ma’am, you also look a might familiar. You used to be on magazine covers or something, right?’

‘Used to be,’ Laura responded, amazed at both how widespread certain publications were and how far the average person’s memory stretched. Four years had passed since Laura had been on any magazine covers, with the exception of last November’s Business Weekly.

‘I knew I’d seen you before. But don’t worry, ma’am. I won’t let on. No way I’m going to allow anyone to disturb you and Mr Baskin.’

‘Thank you.’

A horn honked. ‘That’ll be your taxi. Have a good one.’

‘I’ll try.’ She left the lobby, greeted the driver, and sat in the backseat. The air-conditioning was at full blast, making the car almost too cold, but against the outside sun, it was a most welcome change.

Laura settled back and watched the tropical foliage merge into a wall of green as the taxi sped toward town. Every once in a while a small building would pop out of the natural habitat but for the first ten minutes of the ride, they were only a few hidden bungalows, a post office and a grocery store. She gripped the briefcase that contained the catalogues of all the latest Svengali products. Her right leg bounced up and down restlessly.

Laura began modeling when she was only seventeen. Her Cosmo debut was followed by Mademoiselle and Glamour covers in the same month, and then Sports Illustrated’ s annual swimsuit issue made her name somewhat household. The cover photo was taken during a sunset on Australia’s Gold Coast about 500 miles from Palm’s Cove. In the photograph, Laura was wading knee-deep in the water, her eyes staring into the camera as she pulled back her wet hair. She wore a black, strapless one-piece that molded to her curves, her shoulders bare. It ended up being the best-selling issue Sports Illustrated ever had.