Roxy’s Story (29 page)

I looked around, nudged by my paranoia, which was rapidly becoming my new shadow,
clinging to everything I said and did. I wasn’t nervous, however. In fact, I was surprised
and pleased at how quickly my self-confidence was growing. If this was my first test
in the field, I would ace it for sure.

“So how do you know Mrs. Brittany?” he asked me as we finished our dessert. We were
sharing a tiramisu.

“A friend introduced me to her,” I said, thinking of Mr. Bob.

“I never quite understood what she does, how she came into so much money. You should
hear Norbert talk about her. He thinks the day practically starts and ends with her.”

My alarms were sounding. If there was any question designed to test me, this was the
chief one.

“She’s his godmother,” I said.

“Yes, I know all about her and her husband being related to him, but I had the impression
they were poor royalty. That villa you’re in is worth more than eight million dollars.”

I shrugged as if I had been in multimillion-dollar villas all my life. Besides, it
was easy to see that a million dollars to the wealthy here was like a hundred dollars
to the people back home.

“Mrs. Brittany is an enterprising woman,” I said. “She enjoys her success and uses
her wealth wisely.”

“How?”

“Excuse me?”

“How did she get this wealth?”

I couldn’t imagine Norbert not telling him anything, but then again, perhaps he was
as loyal to her as anyone who worked for her. Did he work for her, too? Did he send
her clients from this world of wealth and glamour?

Once again, I shrugged. “She’s an even bigger mystery than I am,” I replied, and he
laughed.

“Okay, we’ll go back to talking about me.”

“Good idea.” I leaped on the opportunity. “Is your marriage really prearranged?”

“That’s what my soon-to-be fiancée thinks.”

“What about you?”

“I’m still thinking about it,” he said, but not very firmly.

“Well, what is she like?”

“She’s not unattractive, but I can guarantee she doesn’t know much about cars or books
or theater. I know she’s not too informed about stocks and bonds, either.”

“What do you talk about when you’re with her?”

“Our families, her latest fashion purchases, hot new pop stars. She, unlike you, hasn’t
clocked that much experience in the so-called real world. She’s attended a charm school
and went to a liberal arts college, but I think she was, how shall I say it, helped
along?”

“How often do you see her?”

“When our families get together, which is monthly these days.”

“So when will you be formally engaged? If you agree, that is.”

“I don’t know,” he said, starting to become visibly upset. “I changed my mind. Let’s
talk about something else rather than me.”

“Why will you do this if you’re not in love with her?” I pursued. I knew it was a
no-no to make the man you were with feel uncomfortable about anything, but I was genuinely
interested in him now, and it was still possible that he wasn’t part of any test of
my new abilities.

He studied me a moment, and then, after taking a
breath, he said, “It’s more of a merger than a marriage. I could end up running the
whole game. As you know, we’re an international company, just making inroads in Asia,
in fact, and with her family business tied to ours . . . we’re talking huge numbers.
And I would be the man in charge.”

“Ambition, tragic hubris,” I said in a playful tone of warning, recalling my discussion
of
Macbeth
with Professor Marx and the work Sheena and I had done with the play. We had read
it aloud, with each of us playing multiple parts and enjoying our over-the-top acting.
I thought I would make a very decent Lady Macbeth.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “All kidding aside, what are your interests? How come you’re
here? How long will you be staying? Are you in school? Will you be going to school,
college, maybe in Europe? Please. Tell me something about yourself, anything besides
the chocolates you like.”

I laughed. If I didn’t give him something, I thought, this might be the last time
I would see him, and I did want to see him again.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be here yet,” I began. “I’ve been treated to a vacation.
I’m interested in most things. No, I’m not in school at the moment. I’m in between.
How’s that?”

“I don’t know any more about you than I did before your answer,” he said.

“Well, is this the last time we’ll see each other?”

“Better not be.”

“Okay. Then as time goes by, you’ll learn more about me.”

He smiled. “What were you planning to do with the rest of your day?”

“Nothing much. Maybe take a swim.”

“Want company?”

“I thought I had that,” I said.

He signaled for the waiter. “
L’addition
,” he told him. “We can stop at a store just out here that carries the best chocolates
in Monaco.”

“I was just kidding. That’s not important.”

“Okay. Then let me stop by my house and pick up a suit. That way, I can, as Norbert
would say, impress you.”

“Oh, not another mansion,” I said, and feigned a yawn, pretending to be bored with
the idea. He laughed and paid for our lunch.

His family home was above the Grande Corniche. It looked more like a castle, with
its turrets and walls. When I said that, he told me it
had
been a castle.

“It was my father’s dream to turn it into a livable modern home. It took nearly five
years to redo and modernize with plumbing and electricity. There’s an elevator, too,
not that either of my parents needs one.”

“Are you an only child?”

“My sister says she is,” he replied, smiling. “There’s just the two of us. She’s older
and married and living in Switzerland. She’s one of those Greenpeace types, so my
parents and she don’t see eye to eye on most things. Her marriage was a disaster as
far as they’re concerned. They tolerate my brother-in-law, but they’re not fond of
him. Consequently, my sister isn’t here much and has nothing to do with our family
enterprise. What about you? Any brothers or sisters?” He waited to see if I would
answer.

“I’m on my own,” I said. It wasn’t really an answer, but it was true.

“Okay.”

We drove through the opened gate and into a wide courtyard.

“Dad says there was a moat here, but he’s just kidding, of course.”

I got out, now very curious. “Are your parents home?”

“No, they’re on a trip with some friends. They’re on the yacht. But they’ll be back
this week, and I can take you for a short trip, maybe a day or so, if you like.”

“Maybe,” I said. I thought I would absolutely have to check with Mrs. Brittany first,
and perhaps then I would know if this had all been prearranged or if it was just happening.
Even if it was just happening, I wasn’t sure how she would react. Maybe she would
think I had already gone too far.

“My father wanted to preserve the stone exterior. The house has a history. It was
a nobleman’s castle in the seventeenth century,” Paul explained as we stood looking
up at the walls around the front entrance. “Of course, such structures were cold and
dreary inside, so part of the renovation involved widening windows to get more sunlight.
There are twelve bedrooms. He kept the structure so that all of them are perfectly
round. If you want to go around in circles, this is the place,” he joked, and opened
the large, tall oak front
door to reveal another, smaller courtyard. The more modern entrance with large glass
windows was at the other side of that.

“Voilà,” he said. There were wooden benches, small ponds and fountains, beautiful
flowers, and some statuary in the inner courtyard. “I’m on the third floor,” he said.
“You’ve got to see the view.”

“Isn’t that what the fox told the hen?”

“Not quite, but close.”

I followed him over the stone walkway to the actual entrance. A woman in a light blue
uniform appeared as soon as we stepped into the long, wide entryway. She looked to
be in her late fifties or early sixties.

“Ah, Mrs. Luden. We’re just here to pick up a bathing suit. No need to interrupt whatever
you’re doing.”

“Very good, Mr. Lamont.”

She looked hard at me but turned quickly and returned to whatever she was doing.

“Been with the family for years,” Paul muttered, and led me to the circular stairway.

“She didn’t look like she approved of my being here,” I said.

He looked after her. “Maybe not. She’s always been a bit of a prude, but good servants
are always also deaf and dumb.” He paused and nodded at the grand tapestries draping
the walls, the paintings and large furnishings. A skylight had been cut in one ceiling,
and sunlight rained down, spotlighting the statuary in niches and the artifacts on
tables and shelves. “Think you could live in this place?”

“So far, yes,” I said. “There’s nothing cold or dreary about it now.”

“Yes, home sweet home,” he said, and reached for my hand so we could continue up the
stairway together.

A round bedroom was unique. There were no corners. His television was hanging from
the ceiling. He showed me that it could be raised or lowered by pressing a button
on the wall by his bed’s headboard. All of the furniture had been constructed with
rich mahogany and had been custom-made to fit into a round room. There were oval dressers
and a curved desk. The flooring consisted of marble and a white area rug.

The en suite bathroom had the same marble floors and a slightly darker shade of marble
tiling for walls. There was a large round Jacuzzi and a circular, very large shower
that had five different showerheads, including the rain head. Paul explained that
the shower converted into a steam room, again by pressing buttons on the wall. The
only noncircular area was his walk-in closet, which was a wide rectangular shape,
everything very neatly organized, from dozens of shoes on shelves to a row of sports
jackets and suits with a half dozen different tuxedos at the end.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Make you dizzy?”

“A little. I’m surprised you don’t have a circular bed. Isn’t Hugh Hefner famous for
having that?”

“I thought about it, but the truth is, it’s rare that I have anyone up here to share
my bed.”

“What about your soon-to-be possible fiancée? Not here?”

He lowered his head and raised his eyes.

“We have some other properties, a farmhouse in Mougins and a chalet in Switzerland,
to name two.”

“Norbert will be upset. I am impressed,” I said. “He warned me about you.”

He laughed, opened a drawer to find a bathing suit, and then opened the curtains,
which were motorized.

“I think you have more switches and buttons in here than an air-traffic controller
in the JFK tower.”

“I have a better view than they do. Come.” He beckoned, and I joined him at the window
to look down at the seaport of Monte Carlo. Because of the clarity of the day, we
could see far toward the horizon. He had a telescope and pulled it over for me to
gaze out at some of the vessels and sailboats in the distance and also down at the
port.

“Feels like we’re on the top of the world.”

“Just like the slave who stood next to the Roman generals and whispered in their ears,
I have to tell myself constantly that I’m only a man,” he joked.

He stood very close to me. Our eyes seemed to lock, and then, as if we had magnets
in our lips, we drew closer and kissed. It was a soft kiss, but he paused only to
take in a breath and kiss me again, harder, more demanding, his hands sliding up the
sides of my body and pausing at my breasts. He kissed me on the neck.

“I regret that I don’t have a round bed, but this one is no slouch,” he whispered,
edging me toward it.

I stopped firmly. “Fox and the hen,” I said.

“Neither complained.”

“I think it’s best if we walk before we run,” I told him, inching away.

The look of disappointment and surprise shifted quickly to amusement. “How about we
swim before we run?”

“That was the plan,” I told him. There was no doubt or hesitation in my voice.

He laughed, scooped up his suit, and held the door open for me.

On the way out, I thought Mrs. Brittany would be proud of me. I had hit all the marks.

One way or another, I was sure it wouldn’t be long before I would find out.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you taking me places and spending time with me, but don’t
you ever have to work?” I asked him on our way back to the villa.

“A good CEO creates his own schedule. I have some very good assistants, too.”

We heard his mobile phone vibrate. He looked at me.

“Maybe I spoke too soon. Paul Lamont,” he said into it, and listened. Then he looked
at me and smiled. “Yes, we went to lunch at Café de Paris. Now we’re returning to
the villa for a swim. Well, why don’t you ask her?” He handed me the phone.

“Hello,” I said.

“
Bonjour
, Roxy. It’s Norbert. Is everything all right?”