Love Far Away: 2

by Cooper, Leslie

  “I was just having a look around, I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly feeling like I was somewhere I shouldn’t be. “I lost track of the friends I came with and just thought I’d have a look around the boat in the meantime, you know, explore a bit...”

  “Ah,” he said. “And what do you think of our boat?”

  “It’s beautiful!” I said. “I’ve never seen anything like it before and I don’t know if I’ll ever be back here so I just wanted to see as much as I could.”

  “It is a wonderful boat,” he agreed. “Why do you say you won’t be back here again? You don’t like it?”

  “No, that’s not it,” I said. “I love it here- it’s so beautiful, and relaxing. We went for a ride along the coast the other day and I almost crashed my scooter because I kept staring out to sea.” I laughed. “But I know it’s out of my budget to live here. Just a once in a lifetime trip here with some girlfriends, is all. Maybe I’ll be able to come back for a trip in another ten years or so.”

  “Oh, yes,” he nodded, “Monaco is only for the very rich to live in. The rest of us live in small towns in south France and only visit. Still, it is a nice place to come to visit, with a husband or boyfriend perhaps?”

  “Oh, no.” I looked down and blushed hotly. “Not for a while. I’m- you see-“ I took a deep breath and worked myself up to say the word out loud- “divorced.”

  There. I’d said it. I’d said the D word out loud. It was real, and it wasn’t going to be going away. Bradley wasn’t going to wake up tomorrow morning and realize that he’d made a huge mistake. Bradley and I were going to be getting a divorce.

  “I am so sorry,” said the man, and he looked genuinely distressed. “I did not mean to upset you. It is recent, is it?”

  I still couldn’t meet his gaze. I just nodded. “Yes,” I said. “I came here with my friends to- to try and forget about it all.”

  “I am so sorry,” he repeated. “I hope my boat can help you forget your troubles for one day and have a good time.”

  My head snapped up. “Wait a minute- your boat? You own this boat?”

  “Oh, well, ha ha, not exactly,” he admitted with a small chuckle. “No, I don’t own this boat! It belongs to my friend Gianluca. I am sure you met him up on the deck, wearing the sailor cap? He likes to host parties on here.”

  “I think we met him out the other night,” I said.

  “Yes, he is the rich one; he is the one who owns all of this.” He gestured broadly, indicating the whole yacht. “Me, I am just the one who drives the boat for him.”

  “You’re the captain?”

  He nodded.

  “Wow,” I said, as impressed as I had been when I’d thought he owned the boat. “The captain! That’s impressive. How did you get in to this kind of work? It sounds like such a cool job.”

  “I grew up along the coast,” he said. “Not Monte Carlo, but a small town further down the coast. Almost as far as Saint Tropez. Have you travelled there on your trip yet?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “It is worth a trip. Many cities along the Côte d’Azur are very alike- old churches, large villas, very tan rich people, beaches- but I do believe Saint Tropez has the most beautiful beaches. Much beautiful art there, too. You should visit.”

  “I’m not really sure where we plan to go after this,” I said. “We’ve got nearly a week left before we fly back home and I haven’t even thought about where we go next. I’ll have to look in to Saint Tropez. I’m usually an over planner so I’ve been trying very hard to just go with the flow on this trip,” I explained.

  “And where is this home you will be returning to in a week?”

  “Um. Ohio? America,” I specified. “United States of America?”

  He looked amused. “Yes, I know America,” he said. “New York, mostly. Have you been there?”

  Countless times Bradley and I had planned a vacation to New York, only to have it called off for one reason or another- his father had needed surgery, then the car had broken down and our vacation funds had paid for it, then he’d started a new job and didn’t want to take a vacation too quickly. The last time I’d brought it up, after he’d started his new job and we’d had the money for a nice trip, he had complained about never getting to do what he wanted on vacation and told me he was going on a golf trip to Florida instead. “Only the airport,” I said.

  “Ah, you will have to travel there too,” he said. “You will love it. There are so many wonderful cities to explore all around the world.”

  “I’ve never really travelled much before,” I told him. “I always wished I could, though. But things just kept coming up...aside from beach trips to Florida I’ve never really been anywhere. I’m so glad I let my friends talk me in to taking this trip with them. The more time I spend here, the more I never want to leave.”

  “Yes, France is a beautiful country,” he agreed. “I have just realized that we have been talking here and I did not get your name.”

  I blushed again. How rude of me to not introduce myself. “It’s Julia,” I said, holding out my hand for him to shake. “Julia Sutton.”

  “Hello, Julia,” he said. “My name is Sébastien Faucheux.” Instead of shaking my hand, he clasped it and used it to draw me closer to him. For a brief moment I thought he was going to kiss me and had a giddy schoolgirl moment of excitement. But then he leaned over and gave a gentle kiss on each cheek. When he drew back and saw the look of surprise on my face, he chuckled.

  “Oh, I am terribly sorry. I forgot- you are not used to meeting someone like that, are you? You shake hands in America.” He took a step back and shook my hand firmly. “There you go!”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I just wasn’t expecting it, I don’t know why! I know that’s how things are done here, I was just surprised. I love it here but I feel so out of place sometimes, so unsophisticated.”

  “You fit in beautifully,” Sébastien reassured me.

  Just then, a loud cheer went up from the crowd on the deck above us. I could hear someone speaking French over a loudspeaker, and then a second cheer went up. “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “The party will be starting soon,” Sébastien explained. “Gianluca has paid to bring a DJ on board to play music for dancing. It is not something to be missed, even if you prefer just to watch everyone.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Well, okay, I’ll go check it out then. Thank you. I really enjoyed meeting you.”

  “I enjoyed talking with you as well,” he said. He hesitated briefly. “Tell me, Julia- will you be in Monte Carlo tomorrow still?”

  “As far as I know,” I replied.

  “Do you have plans for dinner yet? Or lunch, if you prefer?”

  My heart thudded in my chest. I felt like I was back in tenth grade, getting asked to the homecoming dance. “Not yet,” I said.

  “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  “I’d love to,” I replied so quickly I surprised myself.

  “Wonderful. Tell me the name of your hotel and I’ll meet you there at seven o’clock.”

  I told him the name of our hotel, and we said goodbye. I almost skipped up the stairs to the main deck of the party. I couldn’t wait to tell my friends about my adventure exploring the boat.

  Chapter Five

  By the time the yacht docked back in the marina, I’d ended up having a good time. After meeting Sébastien and chatting with him, I’d gone back up to the party deck. There, the party was starting up for real as the celebrity DJ Gianluca had hired was spinning some crazy stuff. I’d found my friends, each attached to a man for the rest of the day, and we’d danced a bit before I felt too much like a third wheel. I’d decided that since I was likely to never see most of these people again, I might as well have some fun. I gorged on expensive cheese. I danced with the Italian women we’d tried to befriend earlier, and discovered that if the music is loud enough, you don’t have to speak the same language at all. Partway through the evening a second buffet came ou
t, and I found Becca in the crowd. We ate until we felt sick and then drank champagne in deck chairs on the second party deck and watched the sun set over the Mediterranean Sea.

  The yacht finally docked around eleven PM, and we hung around the marina looking for our friends. I caught myself sneaking glances up at the bridge of the yacht, and couldn’t help myself at one point- I waved up in Sébastien’s general direction, even if I couldn’t tell if he was really up there or not. We grabbed Megan as she was debarking from the yacht, but when we spotted Ashley with her new guy- it was a third man, not the one she’d been chatting up at the yacht railing or the one she’d been sitting down with, but one who actually looked like he might be a Saudi Arabian billionaire- she shooed us away and said that she was going with him and some friends to hit up the nightclubs. After spending all day on the boat the thought of heading right out to go clubbing was exhausting to me. I wasn’t used to the lifestyle. So Megan, Becca, and I headed back to our hotel room, where we were in bed at a reasonable hour like sensible tourists.

  The next morning when we woke up, Ashley wasn’t there. We had breakfast in the solarium dining room downstairs, talking about our plans for the day. “Should we hang around the hotel and wait for Ashley?” asked Megan. “The spa, maybe? Leave her a note in the hotel room where we are?”

  “I kinda wanted to do this bus tour to a perfume factory. It looks really interesting,” said Becca.

  They both looked at me. “Jules, what do you want to do?” asked Megan.

  I hadn’t told them yet about Sébastien. I took a deep breath. “Well...I sort of met someone on the boat yesterday. We weren’t able to spend a lot of time hanging out, but he asked if I’d like to have dinner tonight. And I said yes.”

  They both squealed with excitement. “Julia! How could you not tell us? I didn’t even see you with anybody yesterday!” said Megan.

  “When did you meet him?” added Becca. “I was with you most of the day, except for a couple hours in the afternoon!” She paused. “It was then, wasn’t it? What’s his name?”

  “Sébastien,” I said. “It was then, while you two were talking to those guys. I went exploring the boat, like I told you, and I bumped in to him. He’s actually the yacht captain,” I added, “so we couldn’t spend a lot of time together. I don’t know. I feel weird going on a date with someone, but I really liked talking to him.”

  “Nothing to feel weird about,” said Megan. “You’re not getting married. You just met someone nice and you’re having dinner. You’re allowed to do that. Worst case scenario you get a great meal for free, am I right?”

  “I wouldn’t go on a date just for free food,” I protested. “I just had a good time talking to him. I guess it’s less intimidating to think about ever dating someone else if I start with a man I know I’m never going to see again in my life.”

  Megan conceded my point, and as we finished breakfast decided to spend the day in the hotel spa while we waited for Ashley to come home. A morning of massages, facials, and mani pedis zipped right by, and by the time we returned to our room to change before lunch, Ashley was home and passed out in her bed. Her dress and shoes from the day before were crumpled on the floor, and a few chips from the Monte Carlo casino sat on the night table next to her bed.

  “I cannot wait to hear Ashley’s stories about last night,” Megan remarked as we headed down to lunch.

  I couldn’t either, but by the time we’d finished lunch and gone back upstairs to change in to our bathing suits, Ashley was still sleeping. She showed up at the pool bleary-eyed shortly before five o’clock.

  “Sorry, guys,” she yawned, dropping in to a beach chair with a margarita in hand. “Last night was insane. This guy I met, Farooq, is a sheikh or something in Dubai. At least he said he was. And he had enough money to be one. Do you know how stupid we are? There is so much more to the Monte Carlo casino than what we saw! We only went in the front tourist rooms. The high roller rooms in the back are where James Bond and the European princes and the oil billionaires all hang out. I know for a fact that I played craps with the Duke of Something from Germany, unless of course he was also lying to me. But I really don’t think he was. And there were a bunch of race car drivers there at another table. Then we went to this club with a revolving dance floor and they lit absinthe shots on fire for you. I went skinny dipping in a pool at four AM! My life is insane.” Dramatically, she slid her sunglasses on over her eyes. “I need to rest for a good few hours now. Who’s up for going out with me again tonight? Farooq said he knows this amazing invitation only club. We’ll have the best time!”

  “I won’t be able to make it, sorry,” I said, checking the time. “Actually, I should probably head down to the room now. I met someone on the boat last night and I’m having dinner with him tonight. I’d be up for something tomorrow, though,” I added, and I stood up from my lounge chair. “Have a good time tonight, you guys.”

  I walked back down to the hotel room to get ready for my dinner date, content in the knowledge that I’d left Ashley gaping open-mouthed in shock for once.

  ***

  At six-fifty-five, I was in the hotel lobby waiting for him. I had showered and changed in to a simple black cocktail dress. I’d been ready early, and instead of sitting around in the hotel room getting more and more nervous, I’d decided to just come down to the lobby bar and have a drink while I waited. Besides, I thought it sounded sexy and mysterious to sit in a lobby bar in Monaco, drinking a martini, while I waited for my dinner date with a near stranger. I found a seat that gave me a view of the front door of the hotel and sat there, sipping my drink while I waited. Some people might have found that boring, but I didn’t- it was fascinating to sit there people watching. There was every type of person, from the tall, thin, tanned type that had populated the yacht yesterday to overweight tourists with fanny packs and sneakers.

  I’d nearly finished my drink when I saw him step through the front doors in to the lobby just a few minutes before seven. He was dressed in a light grey suit with a pale yellow shirt and a light blue tie. On my soon to be ex-husband living in suburban Ohio, the outfit would have looked ridiculous. But here, in the lobby of a fancy hotel on Monaco on a warm summer evening, Sébastien looked exactly like one would expect an off duty yacht captain in the south of France to look. I put down my drink and waved from the bar. Immediately, I regretted it. Waving was not sexy and mysterious. Waving was awkward and desperate. I stopped and sat back down, crossing my legs and smoothing my skirt.

  The waving had worked, though, and he headed towards me in the bar. “So nice to see you again, Julia,” he said, leaning forward to kiss each of my cheeks. “Ah. Enjoying a drink before dinner?”

  “I thought I’d come down here a bit early and do some people watching,” I explained. “Er, I’m sorry I waved like that, it was very...undignified. I wasn’t sure if you’d see me in here.”

  Sébastien laughed. “Do not worry about it. I was happy to see you looking so excited. I’ve been looking forward to our dinner together as well.”

  I finished my martini, and we left the hotel together. Sébastien pointed out a few local landmarks on our way to the restaurant he’d chosen, and although I’d heard Becca read about them out loud from her guide book, he was able to add a personal touch that the guide book couldn’t, and so it was actually interesting to hear him talk.

  He led me to another hotel with views of the water, and we took an elevator up to the top floor. There was a restaurant with stunning panoramic views from its floor-to-ceiling windows, and somehow, there was a retractable roof that had been drawn back. It was just like we were dining on a rooftop patio, but the most expensive and elegant rooftop patio in the world.

  The maitre d’ greeted Sébastien like he was a personal friend, and led us to a small table for two with a view of the harbor. “This is absolutely beautiful,” I said, looking around.

  A waiter arrived at our table, and filled our glasses with wine. I picked up the menu, but it was enti
rely in French without the tourist-friendly English translations I was used to. Sébastien must have seen the panic on my face, because he reassured me, “Don’t worry, I will order for us. I have eaten here a few times- I know what is good. Do you like seafood?”

  “I do,” I said. “We don’t get a lot at home beyond basic fish, but I’ve always enjoyed it when I get to try it.”

  “I will get you something special then,” he said. “You will enjoy this, I know.” He lifted a hand, and a waiter hurried over. Sébastien spoke to him quickly in French, and the only word I understood at the end was merci. The waiter nodded and hurried away.

  “What did you order?” I asked. “I wish I spoke more languages. I took French in high school and I thought I was okay, but the longer I spend here the more I realize that I know nothing.”

  “Ah, but your English is much better than mine,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Growing up here we all learn English in school, and Italy is so close that it is very easy to pick up the language without very much effort. Spain is not so far away either, I spent time there in my youth, and it is a very similar language to English, so again very easy for me to learn.” He shrugged. “Now Japanese, that is a very hard language to know! I have tried and failed many times. Just a small handful of words.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Japanese, when did you need to learn that? That would be a very long trip by boat!”

  Sébastien laughed. “Oh, I have not always been a boat captain! I used to have another job, working with computers. I did that for a few years and then realized it was not what I loved. I grew up on the sea and it always makes me happy to be on the water. I decided that I would leave my job and go to work on a boat. I had a friend get me a job crewing on one yacht, and I enjoyed it. I have been the captain of Gianluca’s boat for nearly five years now.”

  “That must be a fascinating job,” I said. I hadn’t noticed a waiter approaching, but suddenly a salad Niçoise was placed in front of each of us, and before I had a chance to thank the waiter he was gone again.