‘Just the beer.I’m picky who I eat with.’Not really, but he liked this game.
Romy gasped at him in mock horror.Only to grin—and what a sweet grin it was.
‘Sorry to be a buzzkill, but if you want to hop on this ride, you’d better sort out your boss.’
‘He’s not my boss.’
Stone arched an eyebrow.‘Isn’t Julian the one paying the bills?’Julian did pay for this torturous trip with the tourists.
Romy dropped her sturdy bags to land with a soft thud in the dust beside Stone.‘Stay there, Stone.I’ll be right back.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’He angled his head and watched her tight little butt shift in those cargo pants as she marched to the pompous twit calling himself a film producer.
‘I’m going to the hatchery with Stone.’
‘Ooh, good.’Julian rubbed his hands together like some creepy horror movie villain.‘Be sure to capture lots of footage for me.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?I’m paying you to film.’
‘It’s a restricted area.’
‘I know it is.Hello, that’s why we’re here.Find the egg collector and follow the money trail from the—’
‘Swamp to luxury.’Romy dropped her hands on her hips.It was a cute pose for someone who was trying to look intimidating.
‘I get it now.’Stone pointed at the dick.Even though it was none of his business, Stone didn’t want to miss the nitty-gritty side of this reality show.‘It’s why he’s being coy.’
‘Huh?’Over her shoulder, Romy peeked back at Stone.
‘Julian wants to use this film to get the attention of the fashion houses.Don’t you, mate?’The writing was on the pub’s wall.
Romy turned to face Julian.‘What does Stone mean by that?’
Hey, the tosser wanted drama, so now it was all happening, centre stage: lights, camera,action.‘I’ve got to admit, mate, you’ll have that unique angle ofswamp to luxury.’
‘I’m glad someone else can see it.’Julian brushed down his fancy shirt, designer label, of course.It matched the fancy runners that had never seen dirt until today.This guy was all about labels.
‘Can someone please share it with me?I’m the one shooting the film.’
‘You said documentaries cater to a niche market,’ replied Stone, even though he was glaring at the dick with the weedy moustache.‘Julian is after the attention of a very niche market—the big players of the fashion industry.The elites.’
‘How?’Romy asked Julian.
‘Why, we’re showcasing their leather’s journey.Romanticising the wild origins of their high-end leather products.’Julian waved his hands in the air like some drama school dropout.‘I want footage of crocodile wranglers, like Dick Dundee here, wrestling crocodiles, in the fight of their life while collecting eggs.’
Stone crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the twit.‘If you want to see how much of a dick I can be, you keep calling me that, slick, and we’ll see how hard I bite.’
Julian took a wary step back from Stone, while still appealing his case to Romy.‘I want to charm the fashion houses by positioning their use of crocodile leather as an exclusive luxury item with a thrilling backstory.’He pointed at Stone’s crocodile leather boots and belt.
‘For what?’Romy’s frown didn’t sit right with Stone.
Julian took a deep breath as if to begin some drawn-out dreary monologue.‘Look, if a highly coveted crocodile leather designer handbag is being sold for thirty thousand dollars—’
‘Don’t forget the special editions and custom orders, mate,’ butted in Stone.‘Some start with a lowly scratching fee of a hundred k, as a deposit.’
‘How do you know?’
