Down in the harbour, yacht crews on the luxury boats, moored so close to each other their fenders were barely able to keep the gleaming hulls apart, were busy serving strong coffee and croissants to guests who had partied the night away on board.
Nanette, glancing towards Pole Position, knew that Zac would have been up early to prepare for the day and wasn’t surprised to see just the crew moving around the boat’s foredeck. It had always been one of Zac’s unwritten rules – no guests on board the Saturday night before the Grand Prix – even if, like last night, he would have been celebrating pole position on the grid. Maybe the F1 experts and pundits were right and this year would see Zac crowned world champion. She knew, though, that his thoughts this morning would be focused on today’s race. He’d certainly have the crowd behind him this afternoon, if the cheers that had greeted his pole position yesterday were anything to go by.
She turned as she heard the apartment door open and close. Mathieu.
‘That’s Olivia sorted for the day,’ he said, joining Nanette on the balcony. ‘A day at the Aqua Splash Park with friends is much more to her liking than watching a boring car race.’
He leant on the balcony rail and surveyed the crowds and the activity down below him.
‘Make you nostalgic for your old life?’ he asked, glancing at her. ‘All those VIP parties and events you and Zac used to go to.’
‘No, not really,’ Nanette answered. ‘It seems a lifetime away, so much has happened. It was fun at the time, but things change – I’ve changed.’
‘Things certainly do change,’ Mathieu said, so quietly that Nanette barely heard him. He was silent for a few moments, simply staring down into the pits area.
‘Mathieu, is everything all right?’ Nanette eventually dared to asked. ‘Is there anything I can help with?’ She realised the answer was likely to be no, but having spent the last couple of days since he and Jean-Claude had rowed worrying about what was going on, she wanted Mathieu to know that if she could help, she would.
‘Thanks,’ Mathieu said. ‘Things are a bit difficult at the moment, but everything is under control.’ He smiled at her before changing the subject, effectively stopping her from asking any questions. ‘Should be a good race today. Zac did well, qualifying for pole yesterday – let’s hope he can stay out in front for the race. Monaco is one circuit he hasn’t won.’
‘A win today would be put him well in the lead for the championship too,’ Nanette said. ‘We all know he’s desperate to be world champion,’ she added drily. She hesitated before continuing. ‘Mathieu, I have to ask, are you sure it’s okay with Boris that I stay today?’
Mathieu looked at her, surprised. ‘Why on earth wouldn’t it be?’
Nanette shrugged. ‘It’s just that I thought Boris wanted the place for him and his cronies. The plan originally was for Olivia and me to go to Jean-Claude’s, if you remember.’
‘It’s fine for both you and Pierre to be here. Papa is coming down too,’ Mathieu said. ‘So relax and enjoy the day.’
Nanette thought it best not to tell Mathieu that it was Jean-Claude who had decided to change their plans, wanting to keep an eye on his son and try to suss out how involved he was with Boris.
The apartment bell rang at that moment and Mathieu turned to greet the first of his guests.
Boris acknowledged Nanette with a ‘Bonjour, mademoiselle’ and a tilt of his head before roughly ruffling Pierre’s hair – an action that had the boy dodging out of his way. Within minutes, the rest of Boris’s party had arrived and Nanette and Pierre were ignored for the next hour.
To Nanette’s relief, Jean-Claude arrived just as lunch was being served and together they sat at one of the small round tables that Florence had set up at the far end of the long balcony. Pierre, more interested in watching the scenes below than eating his lunch, had the binoculars trained on the pit lane.
The atmosphere on the balcony appeared to be one of genial conviviality. Florence was handing food around and Mathieu was busy organising drinks for everyone.
‘Mathieu seems in good spirits today,’ Jean-Claude said, glancing across at him.
‘Yes,’ Nanette agreed. ‘Although something is definitely worrying him, he’s very stressed.’
Jean-Claude raised his eyebrows questioningly.
‘I don’t know what, JC, but his repeated “everything is under control” earlier this morning seemed to be a mantra he was repeating to reassure himself as much as anything,’ Nanette said quietly, with an anxious glance at Pierre.
‘Any news from Vanessa and Ralph?’ Jean-Claude asked, taking the hint and deftly changing the subject.
‘We had a letter from Mum yesterday,’ Pierre said, without removing his gaze from the cars lining up on the grid. ‘She’d given it to someone in the first eco-camp they stayed in to post when they went back to civilisation. It’s taken ages to get here. Wish we could email her, but the village they are in doesn’t have electricity and the solar charger for the satellite phone doesn’t work that well in the jungle.’
‘Did she say how things were going?’ Jean-Claude asked.
‘Just that she was seeing some amazing things and would write again and phone when possible.’
The cars took off for their formation lap at that moment and Pierre pulled the official ear-protectors Zac had given him over his ears. By the time the warm-up lap was completed and the cars were back on the grid ready for the off, Boris and his guests were crowded on the balcony, waiting for the start. Nanette, a F1 fan long before she’d worked for Zac, felt the first stirrings of a rush of excitement that she’d always experienced at the beginning of a race. Not watching any races since her accident, she’d forgotten how exciting it always was watching the cars speed away.
Everyone gazed as, one by one, the red starting lights went out and then the ear-shattering sound of high-performance cars making for the Sainte-Dévote bend at high speed before disappearing up the hill towards the Casino blasted through the apartment.
A loud cheer went up as Zac, making a perfect start, kept his lead, and within seconds had disappeared from view, leaving the cars behind him to juggle for better positions as best they could.
Now everyone’s attention switched to the large TV screen set up by the Sainte-Dévote corner. As Nanette watched the screen, Zac flew past the Hôtel de Paris on his way towards the Horseshoe Bend for the first time.
Nanette hoped that the race would be trouble-free. Monaco Grand Prix might be a firm favourite with the drivers because of the challenges the street circuit gave them, but Nanette knew that simple fact alone made it one of the most dangerous racetracks in the world. There was simply nowhere to go if something went wrong – a puncture or driver error here could have serious consequences and these modern cars were so fast.
Racing out of the tunnel and coming back down towards the harbour, Zac was continuing to pull away from the cars behind him and had already put five seconds between himself and the rest of the field when he roared past the apartment again starting his second lap.
Boris and two of his guests moved back into the sitting room soon after the start and began talking quietly amongst themselves, occasionally glancing at the race on the small television on the sideboard. Nanette, fetching a bottle of water from the kitchen, strained to hear what they were saying as she walked past but caught only the words ‘money’ and ‘yacht’.
Zac stayed comfortably ahead for the race, his team providing him with two perfect pit stops to keep him in the lead. Nanette, watching him climb the hill past the Hérmitage Hotel on his sixty-ninth lap, knew that with just nine laps left, he was finally on target to win the Monaco Grand Prix with a nineteen-second lead over the car in second place.
It was lap seventy-two when disaster struck. The driver in fourth position misjudged La Rascasse corner and drove into the wall. The uninjured, but frustrated driver, climbed out of his car, shaking his head sadly at the crowds. Yellow flags were waved and the safety car was soon out on the track
and the drivers were forced to slow down to stay behind it. Under racing rules, all cars were forced to keep to their current positions – overtaking was not allowed whilst the safety car was on the race track.
By the time the track was cleared of the crashed car and its debris, there were only two laps of the race left, all the remaining cars had bunched up behind each other - and Zac’s unbeatable nineteen-second lead had disappeared. As the safety car left the track, everyone watching held their breath, willing Zac to stay out of danger – and out front, knowing that he would now have a real fight on his hands to win the race that before the crash he’d led from the start.
As he negotiated the chicane before the swimming pool complex for the final time, the second and third cars were just seconds behind him, but it was Zac who rounded La Rascasse and roared across the finishing line first to take the chequered flag.
Nanette joined in the spontaneous cheering that erupted along the balcony. Despite all that had happened between them, she couldn’t help but be pleased for him.
‘Can I go down and watch the presentation?’ Pierre asked, excitedly.
‘We’ll come with you,’ Jean-Claude answered, knowing Nanette wouldn’t let Pierre go alone and Mathieu wouldn’t leave his guests.
Downstairs, the mechanics and other team members were crowding around the barriers, watching Prince Albert, Princess Charlene and the rest of the royal family who had appeared, ready to present the trophies.
Nanette, Jean-Claude and Pierre managed to squeeze into a small space alongside the presentation stand. Standing there watching the ceremony as a jubilant Zac received his trophy from Prince Albert and held it aloft, Nanette felt a certain sense of déjà vu washing over her. How many times had she watched similar ceremonies and then been at Zac’s side as he’d partied through the night? Now, as the champagne was shaken and sprayed everywhere, she joined in with the general noise of the victory celebrations, but her feelings were somehow detached from what was going on around her.
Running across the track to give the champagne bottle to his mechanics, Zac waved to Pierre and saw Nanette and Jean-Claude standing alongside him. Immediately, he changed course and came over to them.
‘Congratulations, Zac,’ Nanette and Jean-Claude said together.
‘Thanks.’ Zac looked at Nanette. ‘Dinner, tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock. No excuses. I need to talk to you urgently.’
And he was gone back to his mechanics, leaving Nanette no time to refuse – and angry with his assumption that, of course, she would accept his invitation. An invitation that had sounded more like an order she had to comply with.
‘That man is bloody impossible,’ she muttered under her breath.
‘I agree,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘I tell him no for you if you like? And you come to the villa with me tomorrow evening? In case he…’ Jean-Claude left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air as he looked at Nanette seriously.
‘Thank you, JC. Maybe,’ Nanette answered gratefully. ‘I need to think about how to handle this.’
22
A loud bang on the road outside the apartment block woke Nanette with a jolt early on Monday morning. Startled, it took her a second or two to realise it was the workmen starting the long process of dismantling barriers and stands and returning Monaco to its normal state for the next ten months.
Lying in bed for a few more moments, Nanette thought about Zac and his dinner ‘invitation’. She had talked more about it to Jean-Claude last night before he returned to his villa.
‘I still have questions I’d like Zac to answer,’ she’d said. ‘Maybe this is my opportunity. Perhaps he’s decided to talk to me – answer any questions I have about…’ her voice had trailed away. ’Maybe he just wants to take me out to dinner and knew I wouldn’t willingly consider it, so he didn’t give me a chance to refuse. Although I can always phone him and tell him no way.’
‘I think he is a man who does not like the word no, and in my experience, Zac Ewart never does anything without a reason,’ Jean-Claude had said quietly.
‘True,’ Nanette had agreed thoughtfully. ‘But I think I’ll go and try to take advantage of the situation. Once, whatever it is that Zac wants to talk to me about urgently is over, I’ll ask him a few questions of my own. Insist he gives me the answers I need.’
Jean-Claude had sighed as he’d taken her hands in his. ‘I don’t trust him, Nanette. Make sure you take your mobile. If you need me, call me. Promise?’
Nanette had smiled at him. ‘I promise.’ It was a long time since a man had worried about her, wanted to protect her. But, in all honesty, it was just dinner in a Monaco restaurant with an ex-fiancé and she could always walk away.
For several seconds, Jean-Claude had held her gaze before letting go of her hands and saying goodnight.
All day, as she went about her normal routine, Nanette thought about Zac and the evening ahead of her. She knew that Zac, master of the unexpected daredevil manoeuvre on the race track, was a lot less spontaneous in real life. When she’d first worked for him, she’d realised he was a man ruled by his head rather than his heart. Later, when they were romantically involved, she’d got to know the softer side of Zac that very few people ever saw. But even then, when they were really close, she accepted that he wasn’t the easiest or the most romantic man on the planet. Oh, there were presents on her birthday and at Christmas, some expensive, some not, but unexpected gifts of flowers or chocolates for no reason or just because he wanted to treat her were rare.
By 8 p.m., when Zac rang the apartment bell, she’d almost convinced herself that their shared past was the reason, the only reason, Zac wanted to take her out for dinner. There was no ulterior motive. A nostalgic talk about places they’d been, things they’d done together. Clearly, he was hoping that he could persuade Nanette to forget the past and be friends again. Nothing more sinister than that. Convincing him that he was wasting his time, as being civil to him in public was all she was prepared to agree to, was going to be difficult.
‘Where are we going?’ Nanette asked, as the lift took them down to the ground floor.
‘We’re eating on board Pole Position,’ Zac said. ‘I’ve got a brilliant chef this year and he’s promised me a meal to remember.’
Nanette, having forgotten Zac’s tendency to like privacy when he didn’t have to show a public persona for the sponsors, realised she should have anticipated that dinner would be an on-board meal.
As Zac ushered her up the gangway and she stepped onto the deck, the yacht’s crew sprang into well-rehearsed action, ensuring everything went smoothly.
Sipping her champagne and nibbling canapés, Nanette looked around the main saloon as Zac pressed a couple of hidden buttons on the wall. Simultaneously, the side windows opened, letting in a gentle sea breeze, while romantic piano music filtered in through the sound system.
Nanette glanced at Zac. What exactly was he playing at tonight? Candles in elaborate candelabra casting shadows, seductive music playing in the background, the moon shining on the Mediterranean. It was a perfect setting for a romantic evening.
‘Dance with me for old times’ sake,’ Zac said quietly.
Before she realised what was happening, Zac had taken her glass away and Nanette was in his arms and the two of them were swaying to ‘Lady in Red’ – a favourite of theirs from the past.
As Zac held her close, it was as if the last three years apart had never happened. He appeared to have conveniently forgotten the trauma, the hurt, the broken body, as well as the broken heart he’d left her with. Nanette, though, hadn’t and even if old emotions that she’d thought were dead and buried forever were rising to the surface, she had no intention of giving in to them.
When Zac began placing gentle kisses on her head, a tremor of anger flooded through her body. She had to put a stop to this.
‘No, Zac, stop it now, otherwise I’m leaving.’ Nanette pushed him away.
Zac dropped his arms and shrugged. ‘I jus
t thought maybe you’d like to forget the past – put it behind us.’
Nanette glared at him. ‘Something you’ve clearly already done. Whereas I…’ she paused. ‘I’ll never forget the worst three years of my life.’
Zac closed his eyes briefly and shook his head at her. ‘Let’s try and enjoy this evening, at least,’ he said. ‘We’re having lobster. I bought it in especially for you. I know it always used to be your favourite.’
Throughout the meal, Zac, clearly still on a high from his win the day before, seemed determined to wine and dine himself back into Nanette’s favour. As he helped her to a generous portion of her favourite dish, Nanette’s thoughts drifted back three years, to a time when evenings like this with Zac had been normal. Almost commonplace, but so much had changed since then.
When she tried to ask him something about the accident, he placed a gentle finger against her lips.
‘Not this evening, Nanette. Tonight is a new beginning.’ He clicked his wine glass against hers. ‘Santé.’
Nanette looked at him, exasperated. ‘You said you wanted to talk to me urgently and I still have questions I want answered.’
‘Are you doing anything special for your birthday this year?’ Zac asked, ignoring her words.
Nanette shook her head. ‘No, nothing planned.’ She didn’t add she hadn’t celebrated her birthday properly in the years since the accident. The two anniversaries were too close together.
‘I remember we always used to celebrate it early as I was racing. This year I’ll be in Canada, so I’ll miss it again. You’ll have to think of this as an early birthday treat,’ Zac said.
‘So long as you don’t plan to present me with a car later,’ Nanette said shortly. ‘Because…’ She stopped in mid-sentence and stared at him.
‘Because what?’ Zac glanced at her curiously.
‘Because I’d have to decline of course,’ Nanette said. She placed her hand over her wine glass as Zac went to top it up. ‘No more wine for me, thanks.’ Carefully, she placed her napkin on the table. ‘I’ve had a lovely meal, but if you’re not going to talk to me or answer any of my questions, then it’s time for me to go,’ and Nanette stood up determinedly, throwing Zac a defiant look, daring him to stop her.
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