Sudden Legacy

by Kristy Phillips

  I didn’t know much Italian, but I knew enough to recognize that. My God, I love you. I was unsure how to respond. Was that just pillow talk? Was he mumbling post-coital sweet nothings, or was he returning the sentiments I had professed all that time ago on a yacht in the Mediterranean? He noticed the change in me. He rested his weight on his elbows and stared down into my owlish eyes. “What is it, Chérie?”

  I tried to look unaffected. I didn’t want to ruin our afterglow. “Noth...nothing.” I coughed a little as I answered. With my ardor cooling I was beginning to notice my lungs burning from their forced exertion. He was still inside of me, and my cough pushed at him the slightest bit. Still half hard, he pushed back into me, causing little sparks to tingle on my sensitive flesh. “I realize it’s poor timing, but for all that, it’s no less true. Ti amo.” He dropped a kiss on my lips. “Je t’aime.” Another kiss. “I love you, Lara.”

  I could feel hot tears spilling over and running down my temples to pool annoyingly in my ears. He wiped at them, kissing my damp skin and then my lips. I could taste the salt from my tears on his lips. “Tu me brises le coeur, Lara,” he whispered against my mouth. “What are these tears?”

  “Where were you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “Where have you been all this time?”

  Julien could tell we were in for a long discussion. He kissed me one last time before slowly pulling out from my warmth and kneeling above me. He helped me to sit up and I felt the rush of his seed spill out onto the blanket. I made a mental note to stop by the pharmacy in the morning for the morning after pill.

  We propped ourselves up against the side of the nearest couch using pillows. Julien settled me into the crook of his arm, right up against his ribs. If I put my head down I could hear the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. When we were both comfortable, he began to speak.

  “I wanted to come to you, Lara. After you left. I had gone so far as to arrange air passage to chase after you, but before I could board the plane I was told my father had suffered a stroke. You can imagine my upset.”

  I sat up straighter in alarm. “Julien that’s terrible! Is he okay?”

  He gathered me back against his side. “He is still alive.”

  We sat quietly for a moment. I had a hundred questions I wanted to ask, but I held my tongue, giving him time to collect his thoughts. “My father, he was a very driven man. He built himself an empire from nothing. You’ll recall I told you of his humble beginnings?”

  I nodded, remembering the story. It wasn’t lost on me that Julien was speaking of his father in the past tense.

  “I can’t believe the summer is almost over.” I sighed and ran my fingers through the water of the fountain I was leaning against, watching the ripples swirl into the bubbles formed from the water trickling over the edge of the higher bowl.

  Julien fished around in his pocket and came out with a coin. “Here, ma chérie, make a wish.” I cocked a brow at him. “A wish?” He nodded and gave me a half smile of encouragement. “And what would I possibly need to wish for?” I asked.

  “A longer summer perhaps?” He flipped the coin into the air with his thumb. I caught it easily. “Okay, I wish for a longer summer,” I said while scrunching up my eyes for extra wishing powers, then I tossed the coin into the fountain.

  “Wish granted,” Julien said.

  “Really? You have the power to grant wishes?” I teased.

  “Some wishes,” he answered. There was a mischievous twinkle dancing in his eyes.

  “And you can control the changing of the seasons? That’s an impressive parlor trick indeed mister Diotallevi.”

  Julien chuckled at my use of his surname. “Well, to be fair, I cannot control the changing of the seasons Chérie, but I can make the ending of summer lose its bitter taste.”

  He was obviously up to something. He had my full attention. “And just how will you do that?” I asked.

  “Simple,” he replied with an almost haughty shrug. “Just stay.”

  I snorted a laugh, realizing I was actually disappointed that he didn’t have a magic fix for my impending departure. “I can’t ‘just stay’,” I said, grabbing the wine bottle we had been sharing between us and taking a very unladylike swig before setting it loudly on the edge of the fountain. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, meeting his gaze and joining in his laughter at my horrid lack of manners.

  “But you can stay, Chérie. What is so important back home that you cannot stay a bit longer?”

  His charm was in full force today. I gave him a pragmatic stare. “As much as I’m sure Marla would love me to take up permanent residence on her floating palace, I do have to actually return home. My grandparents wouldn’t be too thrilled with my extended absence. Plus I have to get ready for school.”

  His eyes shown with interest. “School? What are you studying?”

  I grunted a noncommittal something or other.

  He chuckled. “You don’t sound very committed.”

  I just shrugged, embarrassed by my inability to choose a major.

  “It’s just as well, you know,” he said, very matter of fact. “I have yet to make use of anything I studied at university.”

  My eyebrows rose at this new piece of information. “You have a degree?” I asked.

  He had the grace to not look insulted by the surprise in my voice. “Yes, Chérie. I could go on endlessly about topics guaranteed to put you to sleep. Though, I must confess, it is so much more enjoyable for me to keep you awake.”

  I smiled at his innuendo. “Well,” I said, “Your grandparents must be very proud of you. Mine on the other hand, hope I have become inspired over the summer.”

  He shrugged and ripped a chunk from the baguette we were sharing. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met my grandparents.”

  “Really?” Julien hadn’t spoken much of his family.

  “It’s not as dramatic as it sounds,” he said. “My mother’s parents died before I was born, and my father, well, I don’t know of his parents.” I popped a bite of cheese into my mouth, hoping he would go on. He didn’t let me down. “My father was raised in an orphanage.”

  “Oh? Then mightn’t we deduce that his parents are also dead?”

  Julien shook his head. “He was left on the steps of a small church shortly after World War II. Most likely the cast off of an unwed mother. The nun in charge of such things must have had a mind for history, because she gave him the surname Diotallevi.”

  My confusion shown on my face, so Julien elaborated. “Diotallevi was a common surname given to foundlings in the eighteenth century. It is a prayer that roughly translates to ‘May God raise you’. Rather fitting, don’t you think?”

  “I think it’s lovely. Are you close with your father?”

  Julien hesitated a half beat before answering. “Until recently.”

  “You don’t want to talk about it.” My voice was quiet, not wanting to push in where I was not welcome.

  I could feel the change in his mood. He became almost somber for a moment, before quickly masking it with anger. “It is a simple difference of opinion, Chérie. My father wants a protégé more than he wants a son. He thinks the whole world should run on his time, and he fails to see the benefit of ‘Squandering my time on hedonistic pursuits’.”

  I just stared at him, wide eyed. I didn’t know how to respond to his mini tirade. Clearly it was a fresh wound, not yet healed.

  He noticed my discomfort and took mercy on me. “Désolé, ma Chérie. I did not mean to upset you. My father and I will reconcile, but I’m ashamed to admit there is a petty boy inside me that refuses to take responsibility for any wrongdoing. My father will just have to be patient while I figure out my next steps on my own. I am a grown man. He should trust in himself enough to know he raised me to know my own mind.” He cocked his head and gave me a sweet smile to make up for this little impromptu therapy session. “Perhaps you are not the only one searching for inspiration this summer, no?”

 
I returned his smile and attempted to change the subject. As fascinated as I was with all things Julien, I didn’t like seeing him upset. “Why don’t you come visit me? I could teach you about American Thanksgiving. You could bring your father and the two of you could hash things out in a public forum over turkey and candied yams. It’s a long revered American tradition.”

  He laughed. “Sounds... entertaining, to say the least.” He dropped his arm over my shoulders. “So tell me, Chérie, what delightful things do you ‘hash out’ with your father over Thanksgiving dinner?”

  I looked down at my hands. I hated the turn this conversation was taking. “I’m afraid I have something in common with your father, in that I never knew my biological father. He took off when he found out my mother was pregnant.”

  He hummed in thought. “That’s a shame, Lara. Every child should know their father. A person likes to know where they come from, no?” I nodded. “Do you know anything of him? His name? His whereabouts?”

  I shook my head. “I know enough. He was young and stupid - two forgivable facts - but he was also selfish and cowardly. I consider myself lucky not to have known him.” I truly thought I believed my words, but there was obviously more going on in my subconscious mind because there was no mistaking the venom in my voice.

  “I have spent the last three and a half years trying to run the family business. It has been a great deal to take on, and all the while I have been haunted by the sharpness in my father’s eye. He is still in there. His body has failed him, but his mind remains sharp. He is trapped in a prison with no key.”

  The pain in his voice was palpable. My heart ached for this man and all he had been through since I had seen him last. “Julien...” I reached across him and ran my hand through his hair, offering him the small comfort of my touch. Then I remembered how he had come to be here. “Those men. How do you know them?”

  He let out a long breath. “They are business associates. My father’s company deals in technologies.”

  “Julien, they are threatening you-”

  He hugged me tighter to his body. “No, Chérie, it was only a misunderstanding. It was a race of sorts. When two products that do similar things are offered to the public, the first one to show up is usually the winner, even if the second one is of superior quality. Those men, they didn’t want me releasing my product before they released theirs. They were simply hedging their bets.”

  “Are people really that easily led? You think they’d choose whichever product came out first?”

  Julien shrugged. “Well, my product is being offered for free.”

  “Oh. I could see how that might put things in your favor from a popularity perspective.”

  He chuckled, a rumbling in his chest that tickled my ribs. “Oui, Chérie, were I to release my product before them, it would have been a multi-million dollar hit to their coffers. You can maybe understand their passion on the subject.”

  “It still doesn’t give them the right to threaten you and hold you hostage.” I was shocked at how unaffected he seemed by the whole incident.

  “There was a minute or two there where I was admittedly a bit nervous, but I am delighted to inform you that our business has been completed, and no harm has come to my person, or more importantly, to you or Alex.” He held up his naked leg. At first I was confused as to why he was showing me his leg, then I realized he was no longer wearing the ankle monitor.

  “Your ankle.... thing. It’s gone!”

  He hummed his reply and lowered his leg, rubbing his foot up my calf.

  “So, you’re free to go now?” There was a traitorous tremor in my voice.

  “I am free to move about the cabin, yes.” I didn’t laugh at his attempted humor.

  “Does this mean you’ll be leaving soon?” I was impressed with my ability to speak around the lump forming in my throat.

  Julien turned toward me and gently cupped my face. “No. I want to stay a while.”

  “How long?” How long did I have to pretend this would all work out into a happily ever after ending? How long did I have to grow attached again before he left and crushed me? How long did Alex have to worship him before he was abandoned?

  “As long as you’ll have me.”

  I just stared at him dumbly.

  “I will eventually have to return to Italy. I have many important obligations, but I’m hoping you and Alex would be willing to come with me.”

  What?

  I felt strangely detached, noting my continued inability to speak.

  “I told you, Lara, I love you. I have no intention of losing you again.” He kissed me chastely on the lips. “You are overwhelmed. I understand. We can revisit this discussion later.”

  I shivered and he misinterpreted it to mean I was cold. He reached over and pulled a blanket over our bodies, then ran his hand lazily down my back. Julien had a talent for understatement.

  I awoke the next morning in my own bed. I thought for half a second that the previous night had been yet another vivid dream, but that notion was quickly dispelled as I registered a delicious soreness in my muscles, and the fact that I was naked under my covers. Julien must have transferred me into my own bed some time during the night.

  I took my time in the shower, still unsure about my feelings of last night’s events. When I joined everyone in the kitchen Nan beamed at me.

  “My, my, but you look well rested. You’re positively glowing.” Nan’s eyes were alight with happy suspicions. I could feel my cheeks warming under her scrutiny.

  I cleared my throat and avoided looking in Julien’s direction. “Yes, well, I had a very good night’s sleep.”

  Pops was on his way out the door as I sat down to my breakfast. He had mercy enough not to comment on my appearance before he left. Julien was not so kind. He sat down across from me with a loaded plate and an equally loaded smile. “Nan is right, Chérie, you look trés jolie.”

  I gave him a blank stare before devoting an overabundant amount of concentration to my eggs.

  “What are your plans for the day, dear?” Nan asked casually, regarding me over the rim of her tea mug. I pushed my eggs around on my plate. “I need to run a few errands in town.”

  “Would you like me to keep Alex for you, or are you comfortable with letting him go back to the daycare center?”

  Julien spoke before I could answer. “Why don’t we bring him with us?”

  I cocked a brow at him. “Us?”

  He flashed me his crooked half smile, the one that did funny things to my equilibrium. “Am I not invited, Chérie?”

  “Do you have business in town?” I asked him, just to be difficult. It was getting hard to hide my smile.

  “If you and Alex are there I do.”

  The sweet sincerity of his answer left me at a loss for words.

  I was definitely more than tipsy. I giggled at the sound of my stomach growling loudly as Julien was nuzzling my neck. “Ah, tu as faim,” he crooned against my skin. “I must feed you.”

  The room spun a bit as he pulled me to my feet and led me to the galley. I had never been in the ship’s kitchen before. It was bigger than I expected.

  “Is there anything in particular you would like Chérie?” he asked as he deposited me on a padded bench by a small table.

  I managed a blurry smile. “Surprise me.”

  He squinted down at me for a moment, resting his chin on his thumb and forefinger as if in deep thought. “Hmmm. For you? I think I shall make my specialty.”

  He turned abruptly and began assembling the things he would need on the counter. It was obvious that he knew his way around the kitchen. He didn’t have to search for anything.

  While he was busy at the stove I decided to explore a bit. I made my way into the chef’s pantry. I was inspired when I came upon a rack of uniforms. There were double-breasted white coats, white aprons and stiff, cylindrical chef hats. I decided to give Julien a surprise of my own.

  “Chérie?” I could hear Julien calling from the othe
r room. “There are fresh berries in there, no?”

  I scanned the baker racks along the wall, finding a palate of strawberries. I scooped up two big handfuls and made my way back into the galley proper.

  Julien had made crêpes. He was just turning off the stove and plating the last one. He turned to take the berries from me and dropped the pan. It clattered loudly across the stovetop as he took in the sight of me. He started at the chef’s hat atop my head, and ran his gaze down my body, noting my full hands and the fact that I was naked under my apron.

  I smiled wickedly and put my hand up to his mouth. “Berry?”

  He nipped a strawberry with his teeth, biting it in half. I watched him chew and swallow before I leaned into him for a kiss. The kiss was instantly molten. He crushed his lips to mine and I dropped the berries in order to free my hands to grab fistfuls of his hair.

  He broke the kiss and stared into my eyes while his hands splayed over the bare ribs of my back. He brought them around to my front, under my apron, and kneaded my breasts. “I quite like you as my sous-chef, Chérie.” I answered him with a moan, and pressed myself into his hands. He graced me with that cocky half smile of his and began nuzzling my neck. “I need to feed you, Chérie.” I pulled back so he could see my face as I answered. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  I could tell he didn’t understand my intention at first because he was taken by complete surprise when I sank to my knees in front of him and unfastened his tuxedo pants. His erection sprang forth, seemingly grateful to be freed of its restraints. He braced himself against the counter, the muscles of his forearms visible below his rolled up sleeves taut and straining as I took him into my mouth.

  I held him firmly at his base, taking him as deep as I could, and reveling in the soft hisses of breath and garbled French-Italian exclamations issuing forth from above. My hand moved with the rhythm of my mouth, up and down, my tongue flicking over his sensitive head. I could feel the tension building in him. Never having done this before, I feared I was doing it wrong when suddenly he jerked away. He dropped to his knees, capturing me in an impassioned embrace and lowering me to the galley floor. I could feel strawberries squishing beneath me, but paid them no mind; all of my attention focused on the man above me as he flipped aside the skirt of my apron and sank into me like a spoon into honey.