“I guess I’d better get used to it, if you’re going to be spending time with me.” He always felt lucky to be with her, not because of her fame, but because of who she was, as a human being, not as a star. “Let’s go,” he said, as they hopped out of the car, and they hadn’t gone ten steps before someone stopped them and asked for her autograph. He smiled as she paused and signed a piece of paper, and then again two minutes later when two young men asked her to pose for a photograph. She handled it graciously, and moved on quickly, doing her best not to let it interfere with Robert too much. But it was what it was, and they managed to enjoy the shops anyway, and stopped in a sidewalk café afterward for a glass of wine. And as usual, they had a terrific time, just talking and laughing and being together. They never ran out of things to talk about, and always had fun.
They chatted about a wide variety of topics, his work, her films, their ideals, their parents, his children, and her childhood. He knew she had wanted to be a teacher, and never once suspected, early on, that she would become an actress, let alone win an Oscar. She had told him what that had been like, and what it had meant to her, and how hard it was now to select roles that would be equally meaningful to her.
“Sometimes you just have to do something fun that you love. Every picture can’t win you an Oscar,” she said matter-of-factly, and then she told him more about the one she was about to start, and the actors who had been hired to work with her. It was a murder mystery, and her costar was even more famous than she, which reminded her of something else she’d meant to tell him. “I have a couple of friends in the area. They’re on a yacht, and she’s a beauty. It’s called the Talitha G, and belongs to Paul Getty.” Robert had heard of it, but never seen it. It was a classic motor yacht, with an extraordinarily elegant interior. It was all marble and antiques, and her friends had it for two weeks. She was wondering if Robert would like his friends to visit them on the yacht. “I didn’t want to extend an invitation to them until I asked how you felt about it.”
“It sounds exciting,” he said honestly. “I’ve always wanted to see it. I read an article about it in a magazine years ago, and showed it to Anne. She was more of a sailboat aficionado, but she thought it sounded terrific. It looked beautiful in the photographs.”
“It is. I saw it last year, and thought about chartering it, but it seemed a little showy for just me, and a bunch of other folks from L.A.” He was impressed that she’d even thought about it.
“I think the others would love to see it,” he said warmly, and then she told him who her friends were who had chartered it, and he laughed. “The ladies in the group are going to faint when you tell them that,” Robert said with a look of amusement. Gwen’s life was entirely different from his. She was part of a world that was so foreign to all of them. She knew people, and bandied names whom most people had only read about or dreamed of. The actor who had rented the Talitha G was a star of major proportions, Henry Adams, and his wife was a well-known supermodel. And they had on the boat, as their guests, two other actors who were major stars.
“They’re all old friends and nice people,” Gwen said with a smile. “Maybe your friends would like to meet them.”
“They’re not going to be able to resist an opportunity like this,” he said with a broad grin.
“I’ll call them on the boat when we get back. They were all at the Hotel du Cap last week,” she said, smiling. “It’s rough work, but someone has to do it.”
“Do you suppose they’ll mind coming to the villa?”
“Of course not, they’ll love it.” She had worked with each of them on movies in the past five years, and it brought into focus for Robert again how important her career was, and how far she had come with it. The only thing that surprised him was how without artifice she was, how unassuming, and how real.
And when they got back to the house, he took her sailing. She wasn’t quite as adept at it as Anne, but she was a good sport, and didn’t complain when they took a sharp turn and she fell in. She was laughing when he pulled her back into the boat, and he turned away when she nearly lost the top of her bikini. He didn’t want to embarrass her, but he was more than a little impressed by her spectacular figure. It was hard not to be.
They spent the rest of the afternoon in the boat, and when they got back, Pascale and Diana were already cooking dinner, and barely said hello when they walked through.
“Would you prefer to go out?” he asked Gwen discreetly. Her hair was wet, and she was wrapped in a big beach towel, and carrying her sandals, as they walked into the house in bare feet.
“No, I’d love to stay here. We can go out some other time. I’ll call Henry. Maybe we can have dinner on the boat tomorrow night, if that appeals to everyone. He says the food is delicious. They have a great chef.”
“I don’t think they’d care if they had to eat dog food, just so they could be on it, and see them,” he said in a whisper as they checked the pantry for a snack and settled for a handful of nuts. He offered her something to drink, and she helped herself to some mineral water.
“I’ll come back and help in a few minutes,” she promised as Pascale and Diana walked back into the kitchen, and Pascale insisted rather grimly that there was no need to. And as she did, Robert realized that Gwen was right. He had never seen Pascale or Diana behave that way before. There was something cold and almost hostile about both women, which distressed him on behalf of Gwen.
Robert and Gwen disappeared upstairs, and Gwen went into her bedroom to dress, and the moment she sat on the bed, it collapsed again, and she laughed out loud. It was a perfect scene.
She knocked on Robert’s door a minute later, and he appeared in a towel. He had been just about to get into the shower. “I think they booby-trapped my bed,” she whispered, and he smiled at her.
“No, it did that last week too. I’ll get Marius to fix it. I’m sorry, Gwen,” he said with genuine remorse. He wanted her to have a good time, and he was afraid that she wouldn’t. But she seemed more amused than annoyed. Nothing seemed to bother Gwen, not even the others’ cool reception of her. She realized that it was based on concern for their friend, rather than anything more malicious, which made it a little easier for her.
Robert went downstairs to find Marius, and Gwen went to shower, and when she emerged in a pink terry cloth robe she had bought at the Ritz, the bed was repaired, and Robert had disappeared to take his own shower. They met in the hallway, coincidentally twenty minutes later, on their way downstairs. She was wearing pale yellow silk pants, and a matching sleeveless silk sweater, with a flowered shawl over one arm, and gold sandals. And she was wearing a minimum of makeup. She looked not so much a movie star as a very beautiful woman.
“You look lovely,” he said honestly, and he couldn’t help but notice her perfume. It was light and flowery and very sexy. And for the fraction of an instant, his heart ached for Anne, but he tried to tell himself that one thing had nothing to do with the other. It was just that he missed her, and no matter how spectacular Gwen was, she wasn’t Anne. But she was still a very fine person, and he enjoyed being with her. Reminding himself of it helped as he followed her down the stairs and back to the kitchen. Eric was there, drinking some wine and talking to Pascale, and Diana had gone upstairs to dress for dinner. John was outside, smoking a cigar and taking pictures of the sunset. The house sat at the same angle as the cafés in town, which allowed them to see the sunset, which was rare in St. Tropez.
“What can I do to help?” Gwen offered easily, as Robert poured them both wine, and he handed her glass to her, and Pascale’s whole demeanor seemed to tense. She was in a tough spot now, because if she warmed up to Gwen, Diana would feel betrayed.
“You can’t do anything,” she said bluntly. And then to soften the blow of the way she’d said it to Gwen, Robert told Pascale of the treat Gwen had in store for them the next day. He said friends of hers were coming over with a fabulous yacht, and they might even be able to have dinner on it. “I hate boats,” Pascale s
aid, putting some potatoes into the oven with the roast. The way she said it suddenly told Robert Gwen had been right about his friends.
“You’ll like this one,” Robert assured her, and told her all about it. Eric looked intrigued as he listened, and then John walked into the room, halfway through the conversation, and looked admiringly at Gwen with a smile. And she smiled back. The exchange did not escape Pascale.
“What boat?” John asked, looking blank, as he set his camera down on the table, and accepted a glass of wine from Eric. “Are we chartering a boat? We already have one.” The one they had was so insignificant, it made them all laugh. “We don’t need to spend any more money,” John said firmly, pretending to growl. He still couldn’t take his eyes off Gwen.
“I thought we’d buy one,” Robert said expansively, and he could almost see John pale beneath his tan.
“Here? In France? Why? Are you crazy?” And then suddenly he realized Robert was teasing. “All right, all right, I get it. So what boat is it?” Robert told him, and as Diana walked into the room, wearing white slacks and a colorful blouse, he told them all who would be on it, and who was coming to visit the next day, thanks to Gwen.
“You’re kidding, right?” Diana asked, looking half annoyed, half intrigued. It was certainly an interesting turn of events.
“No, I’m not,” Robert said proudly. There were some aspects of Gwen’s life that actually amused him. Being able to introduce his friends to three major movie stars and a supermodel was definitely one of them. Although there were other things he liked even better about her. But this was fun.
He looked gratefully at Gwen, who had called the Adamses before she got dressed, and arranged for them to be at the villa by lunchtime tomorrow. They were all going to motor around for the afternoon, and maybe stop to swim somewhere, and then they would anchor off the villa for dinner. For once, even Diana and Pascale were somewhat speechless. It was hard to complain about an invitation like that. And for a while, they all broke into animated conversation, although they failed to include Gwen in it, or to thank her for what she had done for them. But Robert did later, when they took a walk in the garden after dinner. The others hadn’t been particularly nice to her, although Eric and John had made an effort. But Pascale and Diana were still holding out. John actually spent considerable time talking to her, despite the fact that Pascale was glaring at him. But by the time coffee was served, there was no question in John’s mind, he liked her, she appreciated the effort he had made to talk to her, and she was grateful to him. Of all of them, with the exception of Robert, he had been the nicest to her. And Eric had asked her a number of questions about her work, which only made Diana withdraw more.
It was a relief to get some air after dinner, and Gwen sank happily into one of the garden chairs Pascale had had repainted.
“I’m sorry they’re still giving you a tough time. I guess you were right this afternoon,” Robert conceded. He had no idea what to do about it, but it was still the first day, and he was hoping for better from them once they all adjusted to her. The women’s vendetta against her seemed ridiculous to him, and he didn’t fully understand it, but Gwen did. She was used to it. Other people’s jealousy for her looks and success, was a way of life to her. And all Robert wanted was to make it easier for her.
“It’ll get better eventually,” Gwen said matter-of-factly “and the boat tomorrow will distract them,” she said, as they sat alone together outside. It was like dealing with children. To win them over, you had to keep them busy and amused.
“I never expected this,” Robert said unhappily. “I just don’t understand what they think they’re doing, or why. What’s the point of being rude to you?” He was upset about Diana and Pascale’s behavior to her. Even he couldn’t ignore it anymore.
“They’re protecting you,” she said philosophically. “They have a lot of preconceived ideas about who and what I am. They’ll get over it. I don’t want anything from you.”
“Can they really be that foolish?” Robert asked once again, looking startled, and she nodded. “But why? You couldn’t be nicer to them.”
“That has nothing to do with it, and you know it. They’re honoring Anne’s memory in the only way they know how, and they think they’re safeguarding your future. For all they know, I’m some Hollywood monster, Robert. Think about it.”
“I hope they grow up soon,” he said, sounding annoyed. And then he had an idea, and proposed it to her. “Would you like to go dancing?”
She thought about it for a minute, and then smiled at him, and nodded. “I’d love that. Do you think they’d like to come?”
“I’m not going to invite them,” he said bluntly, feeling defiant, and tired of them. “You deserve a little fun without people picking on you.”
“I just don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings,” she said cautiously.
“Let’s think about yours and mine right now. Let’s take care of us, and deal with them tomorrow.” She was touched that he was willing to do that, and this time they took the Deux Chevaux, and she drove. They left the house without even telling the others, but the Morrisons and Donnallys could hear them as they left, and they all sat in the living room looking glum and talking about her.
“I like her,” John said plainly, willing to stand up for her to the others. “She’s a very nice woman.” He looked accusingly at Pascale.
“What do you expect? She’s an actress,” Pascale stared angrily at her husband. He was defecting to the other side, and she didn’t like it, although even she was torn. But she still thought it was a disloyalty to Anne to like Gwen too much. She thought she owed it to Anne to at least not give in too soon, no matter what John said.
“You guys should give the poor woman a break, for Robert’s sake, if nothing else,” Eric added. It was what he had said that afternoon. And then he turned to his wife. “You’ve got to admit, she’s nice to him.”
“She’s probably all right, but that doesn’t mean she’s right for Robert. He needs someone more solid.” But what they were really saying was that they wanted him to be alone and mourning Anne forever. They were determined not to make this easy for her, with the exception now of Eric and John.
“Robert doesn’t even know what hit him,” Diana added pensively. There was no denying that Gwen was impressive. But was she sincere? Diana didn’t care if she was, she didn’t want to like her. She had dug herself into a hole and refused to budge.
And in town, Robert and Gwen had finally forgotten about them, like naughty children they had left at home. And after a while, they decided to go to one of the open-air cafés in the port, and talk for a while. By then, they were both tired of dancing, although they’d had fun doing it. Robert tried to remember the last time he had gone dancing. Probably at Mike’s wedding. He had liked to dance when he was young, but Anne had never been fond of it.
Robert and Gwen talked for hours, sitting at the Gorilla Bar, and admiring the boats docked in the port. It was after two o’clock when they finally got back to the house, and mercifully, everyone was sleeping, and didn’t hear them come in.
“Thank you,” she whispered as they stood outside his door. “I had a lovely evening.”
“So did I,” he whispered back, and then he leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. Neither of them was ready for more yet, and this was more comfortable for them. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep tight,” he said, wishing he could tuck her in, but that seemed a crazy thought. She wasn’t a child, she was a woman. He just had no idea what to do now, how to begin, how to start a romance with her, particularly under the same roof with his friends. He wasn’t even sure if he was ready to yet, and the fact that he was even wondering told him he wasn’t.
Instead he watched her close her bedroom door, and closed his own door softly behind him. And the moment he did, he regretted it. But as he had observed about introducing her to the others, this part wasn’t easy either. In fact, the whole thing was something of a challenge, but the greatest cha
llenge of all was coming to terms with his memories of Anne, his sense of loyalty to her, and his own conscience. That was the hardest of all, and for the moment he had no idea how to overcome it, and he suspected Gwen didn’t either, but it wasn’t her problem. It was his to deal with and he knew it. And as he lay in bed that night, thinking first of Anne, and then of Gwen, he couldn’t help wondering if she was sleeping, how she looked when she did, what she wore to bed, if anything. There were a lot of things he wanted to find out about her. His mind was still whirling when he went to sleep, and he found he’d been dreaming of her when he woke up the next morning. And as he showered and shaved and dressed, he realized that he couldn’t wait to see Gwen.
9
WHEN ROBERT CAME DOWN FOR BREAKFAST, HE FOUND Gwen already there, drinking café au lait and reading the Herald Tribune, and there was no one else in sight. They were the first to come downstairs, and she made him a cup of coffee and relinquished the paper to him.
“Did you sleep all right?” She looked interested and concerned about him, and he had to admit he liked that. A lot. It was nice having someone care about him again.
“More or less,” he admitted to her. “I dream of Anne sometimes.” But he didn’t tell Gwen that he hadn’t dreamed of his late wife that night, he had dreamed of her, and it had equally disturbed him. The truth was he wanted her, but didn’t think he deserved her. He had no right to desert Anne, physically or emotionally, even if she was not there. He wondered what Anne would have thought about it, and if she would have approved. He liked to think she would.
“It was hard for me going out with anyone else, after I divorced my husband,” she said simply, as though she understood and didn’t want to push him. He liked that about her as well. There was so much about her he did like, more than he had ever expected. “It’s hard moving from one life to another. I was only married for nine years, you were married for thirty-eight. How can you possibly expect to move from one life to the next without some stress and introspection and adjustment? It takes time.”
Sunset in St. Tropez Page 13
