Notorious in Nice

by Jianne Carlo

  “It’s origami,” she stated, tracing the outlines of a multipetaled crimson rose. “It’s almost too lovely to open.”

  “I had a hunch you’d want to keep it. Turn the box over. There’s one small piece of Scotch tape right there.” He touched the spot. “Take that off, and the whole thing falls off.”

  Agonizing minutes passed; Su-Lin removed the paper, smoothed a few slight crinkles caused when she slipped the box from the delicate wrapping. She peeped up at him, dazzling lawn irises brimming, and used one finger to lift the lid.

  “It’s beautiful.” A lone tear crept down her cheek. “I don’t have anything for you.”

  “You gave me the greatest gift of all two days ago, darlin’.” Knuckling the curve of her neck, he asked, “Shall I put it on?”

  “Please.” She lifted her right hand.

  The delicate clasp of the emerald bracelet almost defeated him, but he finally snapped it shut and clicked the safety catch in place.

  Angling her wrist left and right, she said, “Look how it catches the light from the fire.” She threw her arms around his neck and sprinkled closemouthed kisses on every inch of his face. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll never take it off.”

  If only that were true, he thought, and wondered if she’d throw the gifts at him when she found out about Carol-Ann.

  Chapter Fourteen

  They arrived in Nice before noon on one of the most surreal Mediterranean days. The sky so blue, so clear, the sea so turquoise, it made her chest ache, and Su-Lin surrendered to temptation and pinched her forearm, hard. She couldn’t stop her mouth from spreading into a foolish grin. Only being cooped up in a car prevented her from doing cartwheels until her lungs gave out.

  “Penny for them,” Terry said and flashed her one of his wicked smiles.

  “I was thinking about last night.”

  He pulled into a parking spot and pulled the hand brake.

  “Any soreness?”

  She sighed and shot him a sideways glance.

  “None. I can’t imagine anything more incredible,” she whispered, ducking her head. “I love the way you feel inside of me. It’s magical. It scares me.”

  He flicked the keys out of the ignition and flipped both armrests up.

  Before she knew it, he had her in his lap.

  “Why?” Two fingers raised her chin.

  She loved looking into his storm-cloud eyes, trying to learn him inside out. “The Chinese believe for every good there is a corresponding evil. Right now I’m so filled with joy I know a black cloud somewhere has my name on it.”

  Rubbing her lower lip with his thumb, he met her eyes and stated, “You do know you can rely on me, Su-Lin, that I’ll protect you at all costs.”

  He’d said almost the exact same words to her last night, in the same growled tone. A quick search of his features revealed the fine lines bracketing his lips, and the fierce slant of his pale eyebrows.

  Her acknowledgment seemed crucial, so she nodded. “I know.” Stroking away the creases on his forehead, she laid her palm against her breast and continued, “Here.”

  Cupping his hand around her cheek, he brushed his lips across hers, his eyes wide open and so intent, his irises turned to the darkest charcoal.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered, smelling the cinnamon in the cappuccino they’d shared on the journey.

  He kissed the tip of her nose, and his warm breath heated her cheeks.

  “My past isn’t pretty, Su-Lin. There’s a lot you don’t know.”

  “Stop.” Her fingers halted his words. “Khalil Gibran wrote, ‘Pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.’ I believe to be good you have to have been bad. To understand you must feel pain. Yin and yang, Terrence, that’s what we are. Your past made you the wonderful man you are today. That’s all that matters.”

  Their gazes locked and held for what seemed an eternity. Her heart ached at the poignancy of it all, him, her, these precious minutes. A motor scooter rumbled next to the parked SUV. It belched an explosive backfire, and the sound shattered the magic of the moment.

  Terry’s biceps bunched under her fingers, and without thinking, she kneaded the tight muscles.

  “Your uncle’s probably been released already, but we’re so close we may as well pay the hospital a visit.” He shifted her into the passenger seat. “Thom and Jean-Michel will meet us there.”

  “Okay,” she agreed and swiped her front-style purse off the floor. By the time she’d looped it around her neck, Terry had opened the door for her, an old-fashioned gesture he insisted on.

  His hand more than doubled hers in size, and over the last couple of days, holding hands had morphed into her holding his middle finger. After last night, and this morning, she’d begun to realize all of Terrence’s fingers brought pleasure, even his pinky.

  The short walk took them past the flower market. A glorious kaleidoscope of color and aromas, lavender, citrus, jasmine, purple, fuchsia, wild orange, morphed reality into her own private fairy tale. Su-Lin laughed aloud; she skipped and dragged Terry over to a small ikebana arrangement.

  His stubbornness set her teeth on edge when he refused to let her buy it. But somewhere deep inside, joy blossomed, and the sun’s blinding blaze couldn’t match the heat warming her insides.

  When they arrived at the hospital, the thought of her relatives dimmed her euphoria, and she sobered. Uncle James had already left the small clinic, according to the receptionist. Terry asked to speak to the doctor as Thomas and Jean-Michel entered the lobby.

  Su-Lin turned to greet them. “Hi, see my bouquet?” She held up the white and green arrangement. “It’s jasmine, with fern fronds.”

  “Ikebana,” said Thomas.

  “You know the art?” Then she hoped her surprise hadn’t insulted him.

  “Know it,” Jean-Michel answered. “Thom is an expert, one of the top masters in the world.”

  “Oh.”

  She smelled Terry before he spoke, musky aftershave, orange and cinnamon, and a hint of cigar. The familiar aroma evoked a deep sigh, and his scent cocooned her, like a child’s favorite blanket.

  “James was released this morning. Clean bill of health. Shall we?” He angled his head to the door and turned her in that direction.

  As soon as they stood in the warm sun, she recognized their location. Su-Lin looked at Thomas. “You should show Jean-Michel the shop where you bought the map. It’s near here, isn’t it?”

  “Do we have time?” Thomas lifted an eyebrow and addressed his brother. “I know Miche would love to explore the shop.”

  “Harry’s meeting us at the docks at noon.”

  Thomas checked his new watch. “We have an hour and a half to kill. I’ll have to drag you out of the bookstore, Miche.”

  “What’s that little secret smile for?” Terry knuckled her cheek as they wandered about the antique bookshop while Jean-Michel, Thomas, and the proprietor discussed various selections at the farthest end of the room.

  “They’re so in love, aren’t they?” She inclined her head at his twin and Jean-Michel. “I love the way he calls him Miche when he’s not guarding his feelings. How will your father react?”

  “It won’t be pleasant.” Terry rubbed a thumb across her lower lip. “Darlin’, let’s grab a cup of coffee. You and I need some alone time. Thom and Miche can meet up with us when they’re finished.”

  “Are you upset about Thomas’s nickname for Jean-Michel?” He didn’t look annoyed, more puzzled than angry, and his frequent glances at his brother had her thumbs itching to massage away the lines on his forehead.

  “No. I need a little time and space to adjust. Funny thing, though. I agree with you. They are in love.”

  He said the words in an offhand manner, as if his thoughts centered on more important issues. Clutching his middle finger, she pulled him into the far corner of the musty-smelling room.

  “We’re going for a cappuccino. The café we had lunch at’s near here, isn’t it?�
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  Quirking one eyebrow, Thomas replied, “Out the entrance, one block to the right.”

  Su-Lin picked the same absinthe umbrella table to sit at. “This is where we had lunch, Thomas and I.”

  She pointed to the canvas. “I saw the words on the umbrella and asked him about absinthe. I need to tell you, I really wanted to try it, because he said it was an aphrodisiac. I wanted to see if I would feel any differently, but I don’t remember tasting it.”

  “It’s a very distinctive taste. Let me order one. Taste it and see if it triggers any memories.”

  “Will I hallucinate? Or become drunk?”

  A chuckle erupted from his full lips. “That’s precisely what I love about you, darlin’, you’re so fricking innocent. I’ll order a shot, and you’ll take a teeny, weensy sip. I promise your mind will be as clear and sober as it is right this moment.”

  Clear? Sober? That’s precisely what I love about you; the words rang again and again in her brain. Afraid all the hope in her heart showed on her face, she ducked her chin and traced a square on the red and white checkered tablecloth.

  “I see you two haven’t ordered yet.”

  Blinking, Su-Lin managed a weak smile at a laughing Jean-Michel, carrying a white cylinder in one hand, standing behind Terry’s chair. He winked at Su-Lin and tapped the tube on his thigh in a one, two, one, two, three rhythm. Thomas, bearing a similar tube, planted his solid form on the right.

  “Should we grab a bite before heading to the Glory?”

  “I’m not sure if the new chef arrived. I haven’t heard from Harry. Maybe we should order a couple of aperitifs,” Terry mused. “Darlin’?”

  Shrugging, she answered, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m not really hungry, but I’ll nibble on something.”

  The three men entered into a heated discussion about appetizers, and she zoned out. The noonday’s brilliance made Su-Lin’s growing fears about her mental health appear petty and incongruous. She wanted to believe someone had drugged her, but the notion was laughable. She was too insignificant, too ordinary. Only her gymnastic talents separated her from the masses.

  Terry’s forefinger tilted her chin to him. “Come back to me.”

  Startled, her eyes widened when he took off her sunglasses.

  “That’s better. What’s wrong? You look upset.”

  “Sorry, just thinking.”

  “Not happy thoughts, obviously.”

  “Where did Thomas and Miche go?”

  “Inside. Miche knows the chef, and he decided to speak with him before we order anything.”

  “He seems to know everybody, doesn’t he?” she said. “What happens when you go to New York for Thomas’s operation?”

  “You come with me, of course,” he growled. “Is that what you’re worrying about? Damn it, I want to haul you into my lap and kiss you silly. Kiss you and make love to you until you know you’re part of me, and that’s just how it is.”

  “Oh,” she whispered.

  “What a pretty bauble,” Jean-Michel commented as he materialized in front of them. “You have good taste, Terrence.”

  “Don’t do that again,” she ordered, holding a hand to her chest. “You scared the daylights out of me. But it is beautiful, isn’t it?” Su-Lin lifted her wrist to the sun’s rays and let the bracelet flirt and wink like a lush green mountainside washed by raindrops. She touched one ear. “It matches my earrings.”

  “I see that, chérie. Trés jolie.”

  “The food’s on the way.” Thomas separated cutlery from napkin as he sat down. “No nitrates, no nuts, all vegetarian.”

  “Ici, l’absinthe.” Jean-Michel plonked a small, balloon-shaped bottle on the table along with a slotted, pie-shaped spoon and a glass with a bulge at the bottom. Deft fingers uncorked the green liquid in the crystal container; he poured the thick substance into the glass, filling the bulge, and with a graceful flourish, Miche placed the sterling spoon over the mouth of the glass.

  “Here,” he said, pushing the tumbler in her direction. “Traditionally, you put a cube of sugar in the liquid. Add water in about a three-to-one ratio, stir, and drink.”

  She followed his directions, removing the spoon first. Waving one hand over the glass, she said, “It smells like licorice.”

  “Fennel and star anise, which are reminiscent of licorice,” Thomas explained. “A lot of people don’t like it, me included. Take a small sip, honey, and don’t be afraid to spit it out.”

  “Yuck,” she blurted, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. “There’s no way I would drink this voluntarily. It’s horrible.” She glanced at Terry. “Curiosity is my curse, I know, but I’d never drink more than a sip of this. It’s awful.”

  Reaching over, he cradled her head in one hand and kissed the stuffing out of her before whispering, “You’re unabashedly curious, darlin’. It’s one of your characteristics I love the most, especially under the sheets.”

  He waggled an eyebrow, and Su-Lin laughed aloud. Joy made her heart soar and her pulse gallop simply because he loved something about her. Since the umbrella provided shade from the sun, she put her sunglasses into their pouch.

  “We’ve got an audience,” he stated. “Those perchance aren’t the Gypsies who relieved Thom of his Rolex?”

  As he spoke, he crossed his eyes left.

  She followed his gaze and that black cloud she’d been expecting sucked all the oxygen out of the wide-open courtyard.

  “That’s the girl,” Su-Lin said as she twisted around to stare at the ebony-haired Adria. She leaped out of the seat.

  Terry’s hand circled her wrist, and he shook his head. “Stay put.”

  “I need to talk to her, to see if I can find out where she lives.” She jiggled her arm. “You can speak their language. Help me talk to her. Thomas,” she wailed and stamped her foot. “She’s getting away. I can’t spot her anymore. Can you?”

  Thomas shaded his eyes. “She’s gone, Su-Lin.”

  Disappointment slumped her shoulders, and she pouted. A breeze rustled through the avenue, tickling leaves into little whirlpools, lifting her long locks, and cooling her heated skin. She knew Adria’s fate entwined hers, knew it with certainty. How to convince Terrence and the others?

  Right at the top of her jaw-clenching frustration, Thomas spoke. “If Adria’s here, then Casmir can’t be too far away.” He clamped one hand over his new watch and pursed his mouth. “Maybe I should pop this into a safe deposit box.”

  “Leave it in the Glory’s safe,” Terry suggested.

  Jean-Michel’s eyebrows arched. He looked at each of them in turn, spending long seconds studying their features. He cast Su-Lin a speculative glance and then shot Thomas an amused one. “There can’t be two Adrias in Nice. Little ragamuffin of a girl, black cloud of hair, on the mud-streaked side?”

  “Yes,” she replied and had to sit when her knees gave way, her heart beating a single drum in ringing ears, fate, fate, fate. “How do you know her?”

  “There’s a Gypsy colony at the edge of our estate. Most of the villagers are metal artists, and all of the families sell their artifacts in the perfume museum’s gift shop.” Jean slid his chair next to hers. “Casmir and his group are nomads, but they winter in the camp. More curious, though, how do you know the urchins?”

  “They’re the ones who stole Thom’s watch,” Terry replied. “Specifically, the girl.”

  “You said you misplaced it, mon amour.”

  “He’s embarrassed. There was a time when he taught the Gypsies on our land how to steal.” Terry shook his head. “Of course, I was the one blamed when things disappeared from the house.”

  “Quite the coincidence running into Adria again,” Thomas mused.

  Su-Lin told Miche about her idea for a gymnastic literacy camp.

  “You may have something there,” he said and tapped his dimpled chin with a forefinger. “Maybe a combination of dance and gymnastics would lure the younger children into participating. There’s a barn not far
from the Roma’s camp. With a little money, we could remodel it, fix the leaking roof.”

  “Really?” She patted a hand on her chest, as if the gesture could slow the blood chasing through her veins. “I think this is my fate, Miche, to teach the Gypsy children. This is so exciting. I really need to speak to Uncle James about my trust fund. Isn’t this just so absolutely perfect?”

  “Gypsies are always more trouble than they’re worth. It’s almost noon. We need to head out -- Harry will be waiting.” Terry stood and kneaded the small of his back.

  Trying to hide her abject dejection at his absolute discounting of her idea, Su-Lin forced her legs into a standing position. He made her crazy. Desperation warred with self-preservation, but she managed to clamp her lips together and not say, Why can’t you support my dream?

  High-noon sunshine heated the cobblestones. The only relief from the burning canary bowl in the middle of an azure sky found in the scarce shadows darkening tapered alleyways. Su-Lin’s legs pumped faster as she contemplated the Gypsy girl, Adria, Jean-Michel’s offer of a building, and moving in with Terry.

  “Where’re you sprinting to, darlin’?” He imprisoned her hand in his large one and twined their fingers together.

  “Where’s your house? Where will we live?”

  He cupped her shoulders and turned her around. “Over there is Château Hill.” He pointed to rolling hills. “Directly north, the city tapers out, and the landscape’s more rural. I bought a farmhouse a couple of years ago. It needs work, I’ll warn you. But the condo in Monaco is in top shape. We could move in tomorrow.”

  When they swung back in the direction of the docks, Terry linked their fingers again and kissed the back of her hand. “Are you getting accustomed to the idea of us waking up together every day? Of us cooking dinners, taking long walks?”

  “Yes yes yes,” she said and did a little skip. “I will have to tell Uncle James and Aunt Emma soon.”

  “I know, and we’ll start making plans tonight, I promise. Did you put all your belongings into storage? After you sold the house?”

  “Belongings?” She shook her head. “We sold everything except for things like pictures and knickknacks, and my dad’s collection of antique books. My next-door neighbor’s keeping my boxes in her garage.”