SUNLOUNGER 2: Beach Read Bliss (Sunlounger Stories)

by Belinda Jones

  I am engulfed in beauty and loss, awe and sadness, all at the same time.

  A rainbow leading to the Eiffel Tower – Jules must be here, I think. She must be watching this gorgeous scene unfold.

  God, I miss her. And my parents. I miss them all so much.

  A few minutes later, the rainbow vanishes into the sky and the rain lets up, now only a light drizzle.

  I reach into my purse for the journal; I want to hold it close to my heart as I make my way to the most iconic Parisian monument, which Jules never had the chance to see.

  But when my search for the journal comes up empty, panic takes over.

  In my romp around Paris, I have lost the last physical link I have to my sister.

  I think back through my day, realizing it could’ve fallen out anywhere: in the crêperie in Montmartre, in the dressing room at Darjeeling, in the metro or even on the street. I am tempted to turn around and retrace my steps, but time is not on my side. I have to fly back to New York late tonight, and I still have two more things to accomplish: French kissing a Frenchman atop la Tour Eiffel and dancing with him underneath the full moon in le Jardin des Tuileries.

  As I haven’t garnered a single Frenchman prospect since Alex this morning, it’s realistic that the kiss and the dance may not happen, but I power ahead all the same.

  For Jules, for the dreams we had as young girls, I have to at least try.

  I try to ignore the familiar feeling of loneliness that eats away at my insides as I take the elevator up to the top of the tower, but by the time I reach my destination, I feel about as lost and forlorn as a girl could ever feel in the most romantic city in the world.

  Making my way over to the window, I squeeze in between groups of Japanese and Australian tourists – just little old me, a mere dot on the top of a tower, peeking down at the world, wondering what my place in it all is supposed to be.

  It is this feeling – this hellish, desperate feeling of being so totally alone – that I have worked so hard to avoid feeling all these years. This is why I have chosen to devote my life to Miranda, a slave-driver in stilettos, rather than focusing on my own life – to never feel this way.

  I think back to what Mary said earlier – that the decisions which will make us the happiest are often the hardest ones to make.

  I want to quit my job.

  I want to leave New York.

  I want to live my own life, a life that resembles me.

  As I lean my forehead against the cool glass and gaze down at the twinkling lights of Paris, I’m not yet sure what it will mean to live my own life, but I figure that having the intention must at least count for something.

  ‘Olivia.’

  Before I can register the fact that a man has just called out my name on the top of the Eiffel Tower, his hand is on my shoulder, his whisper in my ear.

  ‘You forgot something.’

  I swivel around to find Alex – his light brown hair soaked from the rain, a smoldering grin on his sweet face – holding my journal.

  I reach for it, but he stops me. ‘Wait, there is something I must do first.’

  And then, this unbelievably sexy boulanger from Montmartre leans down and brushes his lips over mine. I am momentarily stunned, wondering if I’m imagining the whole thing. But when he uses his free hand to pull me tighter into his chest, then kisses me even deeper, sending a wave of passion down to my core, I know that I am definitely not dreaming.

  Alex runs his hand up my arm, my neck, and finally finds a resting place on my cheek before our lips part.

  ‘You read my list,’ I say with a grin.

  He kisses my forehead and runs his hand through my damp hair. ‘Are you angry?’

  ‘Do I look angry?’ I tease.

  ‘No, you look like you want me to kiss you again.’

  Before he goes in for a second round, I place a hand on his chest. ‘But what about Joséphine?’

  ‘Oh, that is why you didn’t want my help this morning. Ma belle Olivia, Joséphine is my sister.’

  I feel my cheeks blushing in embarrassment, but it’s dark enough up here in the clouds that I’m sure Alex doesn’t notice. And when he grabs me and kisses me again, I can tell he doesn’t care, not one bit.

  *

  An hour later, the storm clouds have moved on to their next destination, and Alex and I are standing side by side beneath a glowing full moon in the middle of the Tuileries Gardens.

  ‘So, only one more thing on the list…’ He extends a hand. ‘Will you dance with me, Olivia?’

  ‘I would love to.’ I take Alex’s outstretched hand without hesitation and let him wrap me up in his arms.

  As our dance begins, a soft hum escapes his lips. After a few notes, I recognize the tune as ‘I Love Paris in the Springtime.’

  I have only spent one spring day in this lovely city, but already I know that this is the perfect song. Being in Paris has given me hope – hope that I can move forward with life, with my own life, despite my past choices, despite the immense loss I have experienced.

  Of course the charming Frenchman twirling me around the Tuileries doesn’t hurt either…

  Alex finishes his tune and rests his forehead against mine as we sway underneath the moonlight. ‘Your sister, Jules…she’s not with us anymore, is she?’

  I shake my head, swallowing the knot in my throat. ‘No, we lost her when she was only sixteen. Coming to Paris together was our dream.’

  ‘So you came for her, to make your dream come true.’

  ‘Yes…it took me long enough.’

  Alex pulls his face away just far enough so I can see the sincere look in his deep blue eyes. ‘I think you came to Paris at the perfect moment.’

  This makes me smile. ‘I suppose you’re right.’

  ‘If you didn’t step out of that taxi right when you did, I may have never crossed paths with this beautiful American angel. And if you didn’t leave your journal in Jacques’ crêperie, I wouldn’t have had the chance to kiss you atop the Tour Eiffel tonight.’ Alex leans down, laying one more passionate kiss on my eager lips.

  ‘You see, perfect,’ he says, after he has sufficiently taken my breath away. ‘Now, about that pain au chocolat… I still think you have not tasted the best pain au chocolat in the city.’

  I raise a brow at him, knowing exactly where he is going with this. ‘Oh, is that right?’

  ‘Yes…if you’ll come with me, back to my boulangerie, I would like to make you one. A warm, buttery chocolate croissant fresh out of the oven – you couldn’t possibly say no.’

  ‘But, Alex, my flight leaves in a couple of hours…’

  Alex ignores my protest, dipping me back and running a string of kisses up my neck. He stops when he reaches my ear. ‘A midnight pain au chocolat sounds so much better than a long flight back to New York, does it not?’

  ‘Oh, it really, really does…but—’ Just as I am about to make an excuse for why I cannot stay in Paris with Alex, my phone rings.

  As Miranda’s name flashes across the screen, I think of Jules, of the list we made all those years ago, of the dreams we shared, and of all of the opportunities that were taken from her at such a young age.

  Tonight, I know that I owe it to her, but even more so, to myself, to choose life.

  So, I let go of Alex’s hand, jog over to the pond, and toss my ringing phone and all of the responsibilities that come with it right into the water.

  Alex is beaming when I turn to face him. ‘I take that as a yes?’

  Laughing, I find myself in his arms once more, dreaming of the possibilities.

  ‘Yes.’

  About the Author

  Juliette Sobanet earned a B.A. from Georgetown University and an M.A. from New York University in France, living and studying in both Lyon and Paris. She worked as a French professor before turning a new page in her career, penning romantic women's fiction with a French twist. She is the author of six Paris-based romances, including the bestselling Sleeping with Paris. Her up
coming Confessions of a City Girl series will release in 2014. Today she lives in San Diego, where she devotes her time to writing, eating chocolate and dreaming about her next trip to France.

  Website: www.juliettesobanet.com

  Twitter: www.twitter.com/JulietteSobanet

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorJulietteSobanet

  Visit www.sunloungerstories.com to discover more about the authors and their story destinations.

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  Soaring Hearts

  ***

  Katie Stephens

  DESTINATION: Santorini

  ‘For the last time, I don’t know why she picked me. She just did, OK, and if any of you are that desperate to go then please, feel free. I can think of better ways to spend a week than taking Granddad’s ashes to some Greek island that until a month ago I had never heard of.’ Alice glared at her three sisters, exhausted from going over the same topic for the millionth time.

  All she knew was that Gran had called her a month ago and asked her – well, rather told her – to go with her to Santorini to scatter Granddad’s ashes. According to Gran, Santorini had always been special to them and she wanted Granddad’s final resting place to be there. Alice thought it strange that she had never heard her grandparents talk about Santorini but then, she supposed, she didn’t really remember hearing them speak fondly of many things. Granddad, who had died back in February, hadn’t exactly been the jolly, fun Granddad that you read about in story books; he had been pretty grumpy – unless of course he was down the bowls club. They had been married for fifty-four years and the family had all been really worried about how Gran would cope without him, but thankfully she was surprising them all and dealing with her loss admirably.

  ‘I reckon it’s because you’re the only one who isn’t married,’ claimed Lucy, somewhat triumphantly. Jo and Karen nodded in smug agreement.

  ‘Oh come on, we might not have had the ceremony but Greg and I are as good as married,’ defended Alice. She and Greg had been together three years and had lived together for the past two.

  ‘You certainly act like a married couple, I’m surprised he’s letting you go,’ added Karen with a snigger. ‘I mean, when was the last time you did anything on your own, Al? “Joined at the hip” is what Dad calls it.’ The three siblings laughed and Alice didn’t have the energy to rise to their baiting.

  ‘Look, I don’t know why she chose me but I’m going. She probably just wants the company and thinks I’m the best one to spend a week with.’ It didn’t really have the same bite as Karen’s comment, but it made her feel a little better.

  So a week later Alice and Gran boarded the plane. Alice was flicking through the guide book; it certainly looked beautiful.

  ‘Oh you won’t be needing that,’ grinned Gran. ‘I know exactly what we will be doing and where we will be going.’

  ‘Had you and Granddad been to Santorini a lot then?’

  Gran suddenly looked a little sheepish.

  ‘No, he’d never take me there,’ she replied sadly. ‘I always dreamed of it ever since I saw Judith Chalmers there on “Wish You Were Here” in 1978.’ She drifted off into her own thoughts and remained quiet for the rest of the flight. Alice didn’t want to intrude on this so opened her book and spent the next few hours learning all about the wonders of Santorini.

  After a quick stop at Athens airport where they changed for their connecting flight, the pair made their way through to the warmth of the arrivals lounge of Santorini airport.

  Alice took charge. As much as Gran had said that she knew all about where they were going, and Alice was sure that with over thirty years of reading guide books on the place Gran felt she knew everything, the actual practicalities of getting to the hotel would need a bit more attention.

  ‘Right, it says that the taxi rank is this way,’ said Alice, pointing to the main doors over to the right.

  ‘Taxi?’ queried Gran. ‘We don’t need a taxi, I’ve arranged for Stephanos to pick us up. Oh look,’ she continued, waving frantically, ‘there he is!’

  A mature, olive-skinned, very attractive man was walking towards them waving at them and smiling from ear to ear.

  ‘Martha, my dear, it is so good to see you,’ he said to Gran and greeted her with a big hug. Friendly sort round here, thought Alice.

  ‘Stephanos, I’d like you to meet Alice, she’s my youngest granddaughter,’ Gran said turning to Alice.

  ‘Ah, the nurse,’ said Stephanos. ‘Alice, it is a pleasure to meet you.’

  Alice looked at Gran, her eyebrow raised, begging for an explanation. How did the taxi driver know she was a nurse? Gran was obviously not willing to provide any answers as she ignored this look and carried on chatting to Stephanos like they were old friends.

  As Stephanos loaded their cases into the boot of his car Alice grabbed her opportunity.

  ‘Gran, how exactly do you know Stephanos?’

  ‘Oh, he owns the hotel. I’ll explain all that later.’

  Though confused by the whole situation, Alice was quickly distracted by the beautiful scenery. They headed away from the airport and soon were on a stunning coastal road. Villages of gleaming white box houses clung to the cliff side and positively shone in the sunlight. The azure blue sea with barely a wave to be seen was littered with brightly coloured fishing boats.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ said Gran from the front seat.

  ‘It certainly is. I can see why you always wanted to come here. Is it living up to your expectations?’

  ‘Oh, that and more,’ she replied with a cheeky giggle.

  At the hotel Gran was greeted by the staff with the same fondness as Stephanos had. They were shown to their rooms and Gran grinned as Alice opened the door to hers.

  ‘Go on,’ Gran encouraged, ‘in you go. My room is next door.’ But Gran didn’t go to her room, instead she followed Alice in.

  ‘Open the curtains,’ instructed Gran. Alice obeyed and the view that met her really did take her breath away. A beautiful curved bay, with grey rather than golden sand, lay before her being lapped gently by crystal clear waters. Some children were playing in the water while their parents relaxed on sunbeds beneath green and white striped parasols.

  ‘Oh Gran, it is wonderful.’

  ‘Well, get your costume on and we can head down to the beach. See you in five minutes.’

  Gran lead Alice straight to a pair of empty sunbeds and they sat in the shade of the parasol. Alice loved the heat, such a change from England but the parasol did offer some much appreciated shade that was certainly needed this early on in the trip.

  ‘Gran,’ Alice started.

  ‘I know,’ replied Gran. ‘You’ve got some questions haven’t you?’

  ‘Well, it does seem a bit strange. You said you’ve never been here and yet everyone seems to know you.’

  ‘Well, that’s not quite right,’ said Gran, ‘what I actually said is that Granddad had never brought me here.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ replied Alice. Her grandparents rarely did anything apart. Granddad had his bowls and Gran had her bridge but, other than when Gran would go to Torquay for her bridge holidays with her friend Joan, they were always together. ‘So if Granddad never brought you here…’ she paused trying to think of how else Gran would know all these people. ‘Did you come here before you were married?’ As she said it she realised how mad this sounded. Gran had married when she was twenty-one and it wasn’t like she was of the backpacking generation, and her family hadn’t been of the income bracket to afford foreign holidays. Then inspiration struck. ‘Or did Stephanos and his family once live in England? Did they run the Greek Table restaurant down on Market Street?’

  Gran laughed. ‘No, my dear, dear girl. No, as I said, I had always dreamed of coming here but you know what your Granddad was like. A holiday for him was three days in Bournemouth for the bowls festival. Now, please don’t be cross with me.
’

  ‘Why would I be cross, Gran?’

  ‘Well, you know when Joan and I used to go to Torquay?’

  ‘Yes, for your bridge holidays.’

  ‘Well, we never went to Torquay. We always came here. For the past thirty years we come here at least once, sometimes twice a year.’

  ‘And Granddad didn’t mind?’ asked Alice, amazed.

  ‘Granddad never knew,’ confessed Gran.

  Alice was stunned. ‘But,’ she started but she didn’t know which of the million questions that were buzzing around her head to ask first. Gran looked sheepish, like a little child who had been found out.

  ‘I was going to tell him, but you know what he was like, he would never allow me to travel abroad. He didn’t even know I had a passport. Joan looked after it for me.’

  Alice still didn’t know what to say.

  ‘You see, as much as I loved your Granddad, well, it wasn’t a happy marriage. We married in haste, and I definitely repented at leisure. It was more of an arrangement than a marriage. He was in charge of everything, he provided financially and I had to provide everything else. Sometimes I felt like his servant. He was very controlling.’

  This last statement shocked Alice.

  ‘He controlled you?’ she whispered.

  ‘Well, he tried to. He gave me housekeeping but that was about it. I had to scrimp and save if I wanted to get anything for myself. I had to battle with him to let me get that job in the shop, and when he eventually realised it would give him more time to play bowls he let me take it. I told him I was earning half what I actually was. The extra money paid for my treats. Like trips to here.’ She gestured her hand around as if presenting the view to Alice.

  ‘Why didn’t you leave him if you were so unhappy?’

  ‘What would I have done? I didn’t have anything. He looked after all the money and he certainly wouldn’t have entertained the thought of me leaving, let alone giving me any money in the process.’