Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance

Home > Other > Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance > Page 19
Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance Page 19

by Natasha Boyd


  “I’m just trying to help.”

  “Don’t, okay?” It came out harsher than I’d meant it. “I’m sorry, I—”

  “It’s embarrassing,” she hissed. “I don’t know what to say to people when they ask.”

  I blinked, my voice hardening. “Well, you tell them Ravenel Tate is a misogynistic asshole, and your darling daughter couldn’t work there anymore.”

  My mother gasped. “Josie—”

  “I’m kidding,” I said, annoyance in my tone. “Not about what he is, but that you should say that.” My throat closed up on the last few words. It wasn’t that I was homesick necessarily.

  “That’s not funny, young lady.”

  I blew out a breath and squeezed my eyes closed against the slight pricking. It was not homesickness, it was simply that I suddenly felt very far from home. Xavier Pascale’s coldness had me feeling adrift. And like I’d mentioned to Xavier about his father, there was something about talking to my mom that made me feel twelve years old again. We reverted to old patterns. It was partly comforting. It also drove me nuts.

  I rolled my eyes. “No. You’re right. It’s not. Because it’s true. Anyway, why do you have to discuss me?”

  “Because you’re my daughter, and I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished.” Her tone suggested an unfinished thought.

  “But?”

  “But I don’t understand why you had to run away. That’s not what we do, Josephine. You didn’t see me running away from Charleston when your father died. Nor when all that unpleasantness with Nicolas happened.”

  I snorted at her word choice. Unpleasantness?

  “No,” she went on. “We stay. We look people in the eye, and we hold our heads up high.”

  I tore at tiny piece of dry skin next to my nail. Was that what I’d done? Run away when things got tough?

  “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you haven’t even mentioned your boss.”

  I licked my lips. “What about him?”

  “Josephine.”

  “Mother,” I shot back.

  She let out a sigh. “I’ve seen pictures of him, you know?”

  “I’m—it’s going to be okay.” I dismissed her mention of him. “It’s fine to think of this as an extended vacation, all right? That’s what it is. I’m not throwing in my degree to become a professional nanny.”

  “Okay. I just miss you.” Her voice wobbled.

  I squeezed my eyes closed. “I miss you, too. Hey. Can you wrap your arms around yourself and squeeze? That’s me hugging you. Everything’s going to be all right. Listen, I have to go. I love you.”

  We said goodbye and hung up. I stared at the phone. I didn’t need to go anywhere, but talking to my mom hadn’t made me feel better at all.

  An hour later, Andrea texted me that I would eat early with the crew and Dauphine would eat alone with Monsieur Pascale. I couldn’t help the horrid feeling in my belly that I’d done something terribly wrong. But what?

  The next day, it happened again for both lunch and dinner. Feeling mildly betrayed, I was torn between relief and disappointment. They played board games on the upper deck and went swimming, and he barely glanced in my direction. When I woke in the night and crept up to the top deck, I was equal parts relieved and disappointed not to find him there. Every morning, I felt crabbier and more tired.

  Xavier had business on shore and he was back and forth. On one of the days, it was my day off, so I hitched a ride with him and Evan to shore while Dauphine stayed with Andrea. We were in a small town near Marseille, and as much as I’d looked forward to moments like this, I felt overwhelmed wandering around all day by myself in a strange town. The museum I’d read about online was closed and nowhere had good Wi-Fi, so I couldn’t even check in with home or check my email to see if I’d heard back from any of the jobs I’d applied for. I sat awkwardly by myself at a little café and ordered a citron pressé, which wasn’t as good as the one Xavier had ordered me because it came with packets of sugar that didn’t dissolve instead of the simple syrup. The baguette sandwich came with anchovies on it, which permeated the entire experience even though I picked them off. And weirdly, I missed Dauphine and wondered why I hadn’t just invited her along even though it was my day off. Security, I reminded myself. That was why.

  I met up with Xavier and Evan at the quay. Xavier was on the phone, the other hand shoved into the pocket of his tan pants and his linen shirt tails carelessly rumpled. Against the backdrop of the Mediterranean, he still looked like a million dollars. He nodded in my direction.

  “Have a good time?” Evan asked, and I tore my gaze away. Luckily, I was wearing sunglasses.

  I shrugged and followed him toward the tender. “It was all right. There’s not much to do here. But it was nice to stretch my legs and walk more than fifty feet in one direction.”

  He grinned and stepped into the shallow boat, turning to help me in. “I’ll bet.”

  “I was disappointed not to see the museum though. It was closed. I read they have an exhibit of the Huguenot expulsion since Marseille was one of the ports many fled from.”

  “Do you know where your father’s ancestors left from?” Xavier suddenly asked from behind me, clearly having caught up with us and our conversation.

  “Um.” I shifted over on the bench to give him room. “The south, probably Marseille. But I’m not sure.”

  “I apologize. I should have told you there is a Huguenot Memorial on Ile Saint Marguerite.”

  “Where we just were a few days ago?” I asked, dismay lacing my tone. I quickly schooled my features and hoped I hadn’t come off as annoyed. This was not my vacation after all. But I was annoyed. I couldn’t help it. Suddenly I asked myself why I was still working for a man who didn’t even like me half the time. But then I thought of Dauphine. She’d told me she loved me when I was putting her to bed the other night. And I surprised myself my returning the sentiment.

  “What was all that Huguenot stuff about anyway?” asked Evan. “Wasn’t much for history in school.”

  “People being persecuted for being protestant, so hundreds of thousands fled the country,” I supplied as he steered the vessel past the quay and toward our huge floating home.

  “So you’re technically protestant,” Evan mused, eyeing me. “And Xavier here is Catholic. Interesting. Destined to be at odds.”

  I kicked Evan’s shin, acting like I was being playful, while inside I was asking what the hell? “And what are you?” I asked Evan, trying to brush over the weird vibe.

  “Thirsty. Hey, the crew is all going out when we get to St Tropez. You should come with us.”

  I glanced at my employer, who was staring very hard at his phone. “Sure,” I said. “That’d be fun. As long as Dauphine doesn’t need me.”

  “She’ll be seeing her grandmother for a bit,” Xavier responded, letting us know he had, indeed, been listening.

  “Oh,” I responded. Surprised. “How long for?” What was I supposed to do when I wasn’t watching Dauphine?

  “I’m not sure yet. Evan?” He turned his head toward his bodyguard. “When are we due in St. Tropez?”

  “Day after next. Why?”

  He switched to French, and they spoke so rapidly that between that and the sound of the tender motor, I let their conversation go and drifted into feeling the sun and wind on my face. Turning toward the elements, I breathed in deeply.

  I didn’t understand why my mere presence had suddenly made Xavier act so damn uptight. He’d so very thoughtfully bought me sketchbooks and even gave me a book he thought I’d be interested in. But then in the same breath, he’d acted like I was to be avoided at all costs. Days ago at the beach, we’d talked, and I felt as though we were actually starting to become friends, but today he’d leave the room if I walked into it rather than be alone with me. Up on the deck in the middle of the night he’d shared intimate parts of his past. I had too. Then suddenly he’d barked at me to get lost. A pervasive feeling of discomfort plagued me as if I’d mis
stepped, but not sure how to fix it. And I couldn’t forget the touch that night in Dauphine’s room. Maybe it had been by accident, and now he felt awkward about it. Though I was now beginning to think I’d imagined it.

  Having a few hours to myself when we got back, I decided to head down to my cabin.

  I dialed Meredith’s number. I had to talk to someone about what was going on. I felt like I was going crazy.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Meredith answered on the third ring. “Is everything all right?” Her voice was sleep-infused.

  “Yes, yeah,” I responded to Meredith’s sleepy greeting. “Wait, Why? What time is it there?”

  “Let me peel an eyelid open and I’ll tell you.” There was a snuffle. “Ugh. It’s ten.”

  “Can’t believe you’re still sleeping, but sorry I woke you. It’s five in the afternoon here.”

  “It’s Saturday,” she grumbled. “And I got trampled by Moscow Mules last night.”

  “Nothing that a bit of Polish water and tomato juice won’t cure.” I grinned, thinking of Meredith’s drive for the perfect Bloody Mary. “Hope you picked up some more Tabasco. You were out last time I checked.”

  “Yes, goober. Life doesn’t just stop when you’re not here.”

  I laughed. “Oh, I thought I was indispensable. Hey, on the subject, I saw an Instagram post from Skull Creek boathouse in Hilton Head that had a whole spicy deep-fried soft-shell crab perched on a Bloody Mary. You need a road trip. It’s only two hours away.”

  “I’m not driving two hours for a Bloody Mary,” she griped.

  I lay back on the bed and swiveled so I could have my feet up the cabin wall. “I’d drive you two hours for a perfect Bloody Mary. I love you that much.”

  “You would. If you had a driver’s license. Gah. I miss your face.”

  “Me too.”

  “So … how’s it going?” she asked.

  My bottom lip was getting bruised by the amount of time I spent gnawing on it. “It’s fine. Xav—Mister P is on and off the boat, so often it’s just me and Dauphine. And the crew, of course.” I paused with everything I wanted to say weighing down my tongue to silence. “But it’s fine. Good.”

  “What’s the kid like?”

  “She’s … she’s great.”

  “A hellion?”

  “No, actually. Not at all. No more than a normal kid who’s lost a parent and desperately needs attention from her remaining one.”

  “Ah. So, a pretty good fit for you then, huh?”

  I quickly got up and closed my cabin door for the sake of privacy, and then opened the small porthole window in order to be able to breathe. “You could say that.” I wanted to add a caveat that it would be far better if I wasn’t cripplingly attracted to her father.

  “Just keep your head down. And your pants up,” she added as if she’d just heard my thoughts aloud.

  “Hey!” I lay back down on the bed, a smile on my face at being able to catch up with one of my best friends, bantering as if we weren’t thousands of miles away from each other. I wanted to talk to Tabitha too but worried she’d notice the elephant-sized crush in the room.

  “I know, I know. Just, oh my God,” she whined. “I’ve been Googling the shit out of him. Hoping I’ll catch a glimpse of you. Oh, and I think I did. Did you all go to a beach restaurant a few days ago?”

  A shiver of dread snaked through me. “Um, yes. How—”

  “You were snapped in a paparazzi pic. I have no idea what they were saying, and before you freak, they had no idea who you were because your name was nowhere.”

  “Oh my God. Was it just one picture?” I thought about our afternoon swimming.

  “Yeah. I’ll send it to you. Damn that man is a smokestack. How do you not drool all day long?”

  I giggled in spite of myself. “I do. It’s a real problem,” I admitted, then cringed. “Like, Mer, a seriously, serious problem. And I think he pretty much knows it too.”

  “Shit. Really?” She laughed. “You always had a bad poker face.”

  I covered my eyes with my free hand and lowered my voice. “I know. But it’s not just his looks, I am so drawn to him, and he does these nice things for people,” I added lamely when I couldn’t think how to describe the things I knew. “It’s hard to describe.” And he also just acted like an asshole to you, I reminded myself. “But he’s also complicated,” I added.

  There was a short pause. “Tabs is so relieved this worked out,” Meredith said in a tone pregnant with unsaid warnings.

  My belly felt sludgy with guilt, even though I’d done nothing wrong. “Anyway, apart from at the beach club, he’s avoiding me. I think. Or I’m avoiding him. I don’t know. Maybe both. But it’s a feat when you’re on a boat, I’ll tell you.” But then that strange touch in Dauphine’s room. What if it really was accidental? It probably was.

  “I do give you credit, you know I do. But if he’s avoiding you too, then have you entertained the fact the feeling might be mutual? Maybe it’s making him uncomfortable.”

  Despite the fact I was lying down, my insides seemed to drop away. “Ugh,” I moaned and covered my eyes again. “Don’t say that. I’ve never been so … aware of someone in my life. I don’t know how to explain it. And I can’t even think it might be mutual—my insides might implode.” They felt as though they were imploding right now. “If that’s the case, he’d never do anything about it. Which is … good. But, honestly, Mer. I think Evan, that’s his security guy, and Mr. P were talking about me. Maybe that’s why he’s been so distant and hot and cold. He doesn’t trust me or something.”

  “He wouldn’t have you watching his daughter if that was the case.”

  My teeth continued working on my lip. “True.”

  “What did he say exactly?”

  I thought back to the morning before the beach club after yoga when I’d passed the stateroom and heard him and Evan talking in French, convinced I’d heard my name. “I don’t know. I was sure he said my name. It was in French and I was eavesdropping. He said something about impossible. Something, something coo.”

  “Coo?”

  “Yeah. I know. I told you, I couldn’t really tell, but I definitely heard my name.” I thought about that night on the top deck. “And I don’t know a lot of French, but I felt like the gist was he didn’t want me around. He also says stuff in French on purpose, like he knows I won’t understand him.”

  Meredith hummed. “Like what?”

  “If I knew—”

  “You’d know. I get it. Jeez, that’s uncomfortable. But are you okay?” she asked. “Like you’re having a nice time apart from him, right?”

  “I’ve been applying for jobs and haven’t heard back, which is making me panic a bit. I’m missing working. Designing. Using my brain. I know that’s odd to say. I think Dauphine is awesome, but I feel like my brain might turn to mush. How do people lie around in the lap of luxury all day and not get bored and crazy? I’ve started doing online courses. By choice!”

  “Jeez, Josie. First world problems. Haven’t you ever taken a vacation? Pretend it’s a vacation.”

  “I get bored on vacation, you know that. That’s why I’m always wanting to do stuff, go for a hike, go sightsee or whatever.”

  “Grr. I know. And I can think of nothing better than lying around with a good book and nothing else to do. So why don’t you do stuff, then?”

  “I’m stuck on a boat. If I didn’t have cabin fever before, I sure as heck do now.” But an idea began to form in my head. “Actually, maybe that’s the problem. I’m antsy. You’re right though. I think I need to tell him I need to do some field trips with Dauphine.” And ask him what I was doing wrong.

  “Perfect. And I’m always right.”

  I rolled my eyes as if she could see me. “Whatever.” I smiled.

  “And I’ll bet I’m right that the attraction is probably mutual. But relationships between rich privileged billionaires and the girls who work for them … I don’t think they normally
end well. Pretty Woman not included. The power dynamic is whack. Plus his history, you know? It screams baggage. And there’s Tabitha. So be very, very careful, okay?”

  My throat felt tight. “I know. I am.” I forced out a slow breath. “I will. I promise.”

  I didn’t want to hang up, but after a long goodbye, I groaned in frustration and mashed the end button before I rolled my face into my pillow and screamed.

  Xavier sat in a lounge chair with a laptop, two phones, and a tray that held a large glass of iced water. Or vodka. Who knew?

  “Oh.” I stopped. “Hi.”

  He watched me from over the top of a sheaf of papers.

  I guess now was as good a time as any to have that talk with him I’d said I was going to have.

  “Um, do you have a few minutes?” I asked before digging my teeth into my lower lip.

  He set down the papers and removed his sunglasses, and for a second I saw his gaze slide down to my attire. Or lack thereof. Dammit. I felt exposed in my swimsuit and not full of the confidence and bravado I’d armed myself with leaving my cabin. What did I want to discuss exactly?

  “Well?” he asked when my silence grew awkward. His tone had gentled, as if he knew I was struggling.

  “Dauphine,” I said, latching onto a safe topic. “I was thinking she and I should do more field trips. When you go to shore, perhaps she and I can do something in town sometimes.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “We can ask Evan, of course. He would have to accompany you.”

  “C-could you accompany us sometimes? I mean, I think Dauphine would like to do more things with you. But only if it’s safe obviously.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  I wracked my brain that seemed to have lost most of the information I’d been feeding it over the last few weeks. “If we go back to Ile Saint Marguerite, she and I could go and see the Huguenot Memorial you mentioned. And then also, I was reading about this amazing turquoise river. It’s like a gorge or something, the color of the water is milky blue, and you can kayak—”

  “Les Gorges du Verdon?”

 

‹ Prev