Soon we were done, and he stepped out and handed me a towel.
I grabbed my bag to get a sundress when I saw my phone had a dozen messages. I picked it up while Quentin dressed to meet his friends and quickly typed out, Sabrina, I’m in Monte Carlo.
Then I quickly sent a picture I’d taken from when we checked in, and she typed back, Gorgeous.
Oh, she had no idea. I sucked on my bottom lip and decided I couldn’t contain the happiness inside me. Not half as gorgeous as the French guy I met.
I put on a white sundress I’d bought for my honeymoon. My phone beeped when I zipped up.
Quentin stepped onto the balcony, and for a moment I didn’t follow. Sabrina was a research director in Allegheny, so she spent tons of time on facts and figures, like me.
Thank goodness. We all hated Marlon.
I laughed at the message. My shoulders were like a weight lifted off me in that moment. Seriously? I wish she’d said that to me last week. You’re just saying that because we’re best friends.
That and it’s the truth.
I typed back quickly, So it’s okay to follow my heart with my sexy French man?
It’s about fucking time. You need a real man. No more jerks like your last.
Thank you
I waited and read Sabrina’s last message, Have fun, and we’ll see you at the airport next week.
I never wanted this week to end. Right now, I was on top of the world, and it wasn’t just because my body was warm and still sparking from the shower.
I turned off my phone and brushed out my hair. Satisfied that I was decent, I went out onto the balcony where Quentin put out a cigarette, the first one I’d seen him puff. “What were you doing?”
“Texting my best friend, Sabrina.”
“What did you tell her?” he asked and followed me inside, closing the door behind him.
I ignored the knot in my chest. We were only a week-long relationship. I had made too many mistakes for more than that. “That I was in Monte Carlo with this sexy wanker I met in Paris.”
His face blushed, but he handed me my sandals and checked his hair. A minute later we were out the door.
My cotton dress seemed dressed up in some corners of the hotel where people were in bikinis and too simple in other corners where a group all wore fancy dresses like they were off to a prom or a wedding.
I held onto Quentin’s arm, and he guided me into a ballroom with sparkling crystal chandeliers and a panoramic view of the Mediterranean as the sun set.
The blue waters were full of light, too, but he walked me to a table near one of the windows and held my chair as another man stood.
“Simon,” Quentin address the man. “This is Kara.”
The men shook hands, and he then shook my hand and then said, “Quentin, this is my wife Bridget.”
He shook the other woman’s hand, and I did the same. We took our seats a minute later, and then Quentin asked, “Where are your children?”
I instantly relaxed. Quentin had said she was American, but she seemed like my oldest sister in her demeaner as Bridget said, “With their grandparents. It’s just adults tonight.”
Quentin dropped his napkin in his chair as he stood and waved at a nicely dressed couple. “Here comes Nigel and Calliope.”
A second later two more people joined us, and we shook hands with a super fit woman and her husband.
“Quentin,” Calliope said, “so glad you’re free of Cecilia. Nice to meet you…”
I swallowed. That wasn’t nice to speak of the dead. I must have misheard. “Kara.”
She smiled. “Where are you from?”
“Pittsburgh,” I said. “I’m in Europe, on vacation.”
The waiter brought some black appetizer I’d never seen. Bridget cleared her throat. “And how did you two meet?”
“By the Eiffel Tower actually,” I said and saw how the men were eating. I slipped my spoon into the jelly-like substance and bit.
Instantly, the taste of fish hit, and movies rushed in my mind. This was caviar. I tried not to cough like in Pretty Woman and swallowed despite the shock.
A minute later, I put my spoon down and realized they were all eating with small forks.
“That sounds romantic.” Bridget sighed. “Why were you there, Quentin?”
He sipped a wine, and I realized the waiter must have poured us all glasses. I picked mine up as he said, “I intended to say goodbye to Paris and wanted a nice view.”
Simon folded his hands on the table. “Quentin, you don’t have to quit.”
He nodded and said, “I absolutely do. I should have been better.”
Calliope added, “We all make mistakes.”
“I killed her,” Quentin said, and I flinched.
“What?” I croaked.
Simon cut in. “No you didn’t. I read the files you sent.”
Files. Doctor. I pieced together that information and realized a case must have gone wrong. And Quentin wasn’t perfect; none of us were.
Quentin shook his head. “Doesn’t matter if I was cleared. It was all me.”
My mind still hadn’t settled. Should I run out the doors now?
My voice came out like a mouse. “Who died?”
The table was quiet until Simon spoke up, addressing Quentin again. “Sometimes you can stop cancer. And that’s not your specialty.”
Cancer. So, this wasn’t some operating mistake. But Quentin took his patients seriously. My mind connected the dots as Quentin said, “I didn’t diagnose properly. The timing was the death sentence.”
Got it. I reached under the table and patted his leg. Mistakes happen to all of us. There had to be a way to separate the personal feelings from the job for mental health.
If he quit over this, he’d hate himself forever.
Simon leaned back for the waiter to clear his plate. “Then I kill people all the time. Even Bridget here would have blood on her hands.”
“I’m a nurse,” she said to me fast.
“I admire what you all do,” I added. “I’m… I was a financial analyst for a wine bottling company. Very boring.”
She smiled at me as Quentin reached under the table and squeezed my palm. “I was so into myself that I missed something obvious.”
I swallowed. “What did you miss?”
“That I wasn’t made to be a doctor. I’m careless and selfish.” He dropped my hand, and I reached for my wine. “So, I’ll move on, grow wine, and get in the family business.”
Simon folded his hands on the table. “Fuck. Quentin, at least you came. Look you don’t have to give up your stethoscope because you made a fucking mistake. We’re human, not miracle men. We’re not supposed to get involved in our cases personally. It clouds our judgment.”
Agreed. Quentin brooded a bit, which seemed to be a reaction to caring. He was an attentive, wonderful lover, and he’d be a perfect husband to someone else.
Someone capable of making smart decisions.
I saw that.
Quentin lowered his head and stared into his wineglass. “Cecilia’s little sister and her family all sued me. I just can’t anymore.”
The ex. The patient wasn’t a stranger. That complicated his life.
Bridget then said like she solved the problem, “From what I heard, Cecelia never treated you as her one and only, and you both had problems long before the cancer. You have Kara now. And it sounds like if you keep her, she can run your father’s business, and you can follow your passion for helping people.”
They knew way more about him than I did. My shoulders lightened at the idea his relationship was far from perfect—like my past. But my heart twisted for even thinking such things. I sipped my wine, unsure what to say. Their numbers didn’t add up. Quentin and I were a week-long fling. I wasn’t the answer to his prayers.
Even if part of me hoped to be, I wasn’t ready for another relationship.
Calliope didn’t even blink as she asked me, “Are you sick, or do you have any sick sibli
ngs you need Quentin to cure?”
If only it was just the physical that mattered. “Not that I’m aware of.”
Bridget patted my back. “See?” she said to Quentin. “You’re in better hands.”
Cold raced down my spine. I wasn’t ready to toss my life away for the unknown. The waiter brought me some sort of chicken dish with lots of sauce that seemed on the small side. Once he finished serving us, I met Quentin’s gaze. “My dad had a heart attack, and my mom pneumonia. I get how hard symptoms can be to spot, and I’m not in your profession at all. We help who we can, but none of us are God.”
Bridget said, “Smart lady.”
We all ate a few bites in silence, but Quentin finished his first. “Did you blame the doctors because of your dad?”
Simon added, “Good question, Quentin.”
They hadn’t caused the problem. “No. They did what they could.”
Then Bridget said, “Quentin, there is a reason we don’t mix business and personal. I take my son to a different doctor than Simon because we need someone professional without going to extremes. Clear heads are best, and none of us are perfect.”
“Maybe,” he said, and we finished our small plates. This wasn’t much but as I sipped my wine, Quentin asked, “Kara, would you like to dance?”
A few older people were on the dance floor. I scooted my chair as he clearly needed a minute to breathe. “Sure. Excuse us.”
As we made it to the dance floor, he took my hands to lead me and I said, “I’m sorry about your recent loss. I didn’t know how much you suffered.”
He held me close, and I could feel his heartbeat next to mine in the same beat. “Doesn’t matter anymore,” he said. “I just needed to breathe sweet air with you.”
While I didn’t understand a word of the song—it was in French—I heard the sadness and the romance. Maybe that was good; soon I’d leave this wonderful man and go back to the real world of mine. Now was all we had.
Chapter 12
Quentin
With Kara in my arms on the dance floor, I smelled her rosy body lotion, and my wanker grew hard.
If I could drag her to a corner of the room and fill myself with her, then maybe breathing would become easier again.
Anything to get her to not hear how I also killed my brother and I was the worst man to spend a life with.
Not that that’s what we promised each other.
That fast fantasy of mine wasn’t going to happen, and my brothers’ friends waited for us at the table.
At the end of the song, my heart was still pumped with adrenaline. I’d dragged Kara here, so she needed to be fully aware of all the unsaid drama. As the second song started, I kept her in my arms and said, “There is something I should have told you before we came here.”
She swallowed. “What?”
I guided her around the room and spoke softly in her ear. “My brother, Blake, died when I was little. Simon and Calliope were his friends, not mine. And they are only here because they feel guilty about my brother not being here.”
Her eyes widened. “So much guilt going on. Is that what they put in the English water?”
My shoulders lost some of their weight they’d been holding as I caressed her back. “Kara, one of the things I love about you is your kindness.”
A cute blush covered her face. “What can I say? I might not be ready to toss my life away for you, but it’s just wrong to feel guilty for what you can’t control.”
Somehow choirs in heaven wouldn’t sound half as pleasant as she did. However, she didn’t know the whole story. “I wish I had your ability, Kara.”
She squeezed my shoulder. “What’s that?”
I met her brown-eyed gaze and said, “To forgive yourself.”
She laughed. “Guess that’s what I learned from movies?”
I twirled her around, and she came back into my arms like we’d practiced. “I always thought American movies were cheesy until I met you.”
Her smile brightened not just her face but something inside me, too. “What about me changed that?” she asked.
“You’re refreshingly honest, Kara. I don’t know if I’ve ever met a woman as open as you.”
She shook her head like she didn’t believe me. “I’m not usually so open.”
Kara gave me more than I could say. Being with her was like I’d found a second life that I needed to be careful with. “I don’t know if I believe that.”
She cupped my cheek. “You should, Quentin. I was mortified and trying to escape what I’d done. You were good for me to meet.”
This all would end. I knew it, but I wasn’t ready to face that everything about Kara was fleeting and temporary. “Why?”
Her eyes were so clear as she stared at me. “Because you helped me let go. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this open.”
I kissed her cheek as she was shy in public, and then as the next song ended, we stopped dancing. I held her hips close to me for a second and said, “Let’s get back to dinner, and then after we can head upstairs.”
“Sounds perfect.”
I needed to get that white cotton dress off her. She was pure and innocent like that, and I needed for her to be the opposite.
Kara had given me life again, and I wasn’t about to blow it.
I held her hand and walked her to the table. “Sorry we took so long,” I told my friends.
Nigel dug into his dessert without a word. I always remembered him as the quiet type.
Simon clapped me on the back. “You’re back. That’s all that matters.”
Sitting here, the place felt empty without my brother. He’d been part of their trio, not me, and my carelessness had taken two lives.
I checked that Kara was seated, fixed my napkin on my lap, and said, “I needed to clear my head a bit.”
“No worries,” Calliope said.
I picked up my fork for the chocolate ice cream truffle. “You’re here because of Blake. We all know that, but he was my older brother. He loved you and wouldn’t want you to do anything out of guilt for him, especially come and try to clear my head.”
Kara ate her chocolate in silence, but her leg pressed against mine like she was here for me. She didn’t need to say anything.
Bridget, Simon’s pretty wife, who seemed like the mother of the quartet said, “I didn’t know your brother, but I work with a lot of doctors, Quentin. There are professional support groups to help you talk about your feelings.”
Fair. There were people to talk to if I wanted, but they didn’t know how I’d been a life-long fuckup. I lowered my fork and stared at my untouched dessert. “Yes, thank you, Bridget. Kara reminded me it might be a British thing to walk around carrying guilt on our shoulders and letting mistakes dictate our future.”
Calliope smiled at my girlfriend. “You sound smart, Kara.”
She put her fork down and shook her head. “I’m not. I’m not involved, which makes my observations easier.”
That was what Simon was talking about earlier. Distance. I shook off the thought and said, “Either way, I wanted to appease everyone here from what they believe is their duty. I’m going to retire to a quiet life, but that doesn’t mean you need to worry. My brother loved you both and wouldn’t expect what you’ve done already. He’d want you to go on and be happy in your lives.”
I then proceeded to eat my dessert and everyone else finished theirs.
Simon broke the silence. “It’s not just about Blake.”
Seriously, he didn’t want to give this up. I hadn’t anticipated that he’d turn into such a responsible guy. “It’s not?”
Simon didn’t blink. “You were important, too, and this is something you’ll regret giving up.”
Life was all about trying to let go of the past. As a boy, the best days were ones not talking about Blake. Silence meant my mother didn’t tear up and my father didn’t drink. So, we were better without ever talking about him.
Giving up medicine would be the same. No more peop
le to disappoint and better to just privately remember. I’d be fine. “I don’t know,” I said slowly, “but thank you.”
The waiter came with the bill, and Simon grabbed it. “We’ll see you tonight?”
I took my girl’s hand and pushed my seat to stand. “Kara and I are going to stay in our rooms.”
Simon’s blue eyes were steely when he said, “Breakfast then. I insist.”
A good time to say goodbye then. I nodded. “Fine.” I stood and asked, “Kara, are you ready to go?”
She joined me, let me go for a moment, and shook hands with everyone around her. “See you all tomorrow.”
We walked in silence out of the restaurant in the hotel and headed toward the elevator. As we neared the bank she asked, “Can I ask how your brother died?”
And there he was, like a ghost wanting life again. I pressed the up button. “He was in a boating accident. He didn’t pack enough life vests and decided he was invincible. Simon and Calliope were in the boat.”
“That’s sad,” she said.
“I had taken the vest and left it in our garage. I forgot to tell him as I was more interested in finishing my homework when they left that day. I’d thought he’d see it on his way.”
I’d killed him. I should have called out or mentioned it. As a result, I lived my life in hiding until I’d finished school and moved to Paris on my own.
“Things change fast, Kara,” I continued. “The day I met you I hadn’t expected another life changing moment.”
The words had just come out again. Maybe she’d been right about my country character traits because I might be falling in love with her. I had no right. I was a horrible choice for her.
I blinked and realized I was in love already. I’d never tell her. Hopefully, she was right that I’d fall out of love, too, but my gut twisted; that wasn’t likely.
“You had that?”
I’d not talk about it more. She didn’t love me back, and she was leaving. I caressed her cheek and said, “Let’s not talk about it. Let’s get you naked in the room.”
The elevator came, and we were alone. As the doors closed, she said, “You’ll have to win my clothes off.”
My eyebrow went up. She had my full attention. “Win?”
French Wanker : A Hero Cub Novel Page 8