by Holly Rayner
Chapter 13
Julien
“How are you seriously still eating?” I asked, openly gawking at Ashlynn as she dipped a bit of crisp bread into an oil and herb mixture. “Honestly, you need to tell me your secrets.”
“Are you judging me?” she asked, eyes narrowed playfully.
I held up my hands. “No way. Never. I’m impressed. I just want to know where you put it all.”
After our afternoon spent walking through the shopping district and showing Ashlynn where most of the Monte Carlo nightlife went on, we walked back to the hotel to get ready for dinner. Ashlynn had been dressed casually—jean shorts and a flowy blouse—but she looked incredible to me. When she met me outside for dinner, however, my knees went weak.
She wore a strapless, emerald green dress that hugged her waist and flared out around her hips, making her look like a classic movie star. The color brought out the incredible green of her eyes, and she looked like an absolute picture. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything more beautiful.
When I told her as much, her smile faltered. I tried not to notice, but it was impossible not to see the ways in which she was pulling away from me. She smiled and joked all day, but she wouldn’t talk to me about anything serious.
I tried to ask her about her sister, who I’d heard warn Ashlynn away from me the day before, but Ashlynn changed the subject. She didn’t want to talk about anything personal, and I could only guess that it had something to do with what Geneviève or Alain had said to her the night of the party. Perhaps, both.
I’d been naïve in thinking my reputation wouldn’t catch up to me. In thinking that I could keep Ashlynn in the dark about my past. I should have told her what people said about me and explained that it wasn’t the whole story. That way, at least, she wouldn’t have latched on so eagerly to whatever lie Geneviève had spun for her.
“I actually am getting pretty full,” Ashlynn said, pushing her plate away. “Thank you for dinner. Today was incredible.”
“It doesn’t have to be over,” I said, looking at Ashlynn from across the table.
I knew I was pushing my luck. We’d spent the entire day together, and after the way she had nearly sprinted away from me at the after-party, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d said she needed to use the restroom and then crawled through the window.
However, she tilted her head to the side, the candle in the middle of the table tinting her skin gold.
“Do you have other plans?” she asked.
“Well, as it happens, I have a favor to ask,” I said.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Okay?”
“But you have to go somewhere with me first,” I added. “I’ll ask you for the favor once we arrive.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, and I knew she was remembering what she’d told me earlier in the day: she hated mysteries. I’d already decided to put that piece of trivia to use, and I was hoping it would hold true.
After a long pause, Ashlynn pursed her lips and then nodded once. “Fine. Deal.”
Gérard picked us up from the restaurant and we rode to the next destination in near silence, except for the impatient sighs that came from Ashlynn’s side of the backseat every few minutes.
“You really do hate surprises, don’t you?” I asked.
“I want to know what to expect,” she said. “I like to have a plan in place for every scenario. But when the scenario is unclear, there is no plan. It can be quite stressful for me.”
Her hand was resting on the leather cushion between us, and I reached out and patted her fingers before I could think better of it. She jumped and pulled her hand back slightly, and I tried not to be offended.
“Don’t you worry, Ash. There is absolutely a plan. It just isn’t yours.”
She shook her head. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
The building Gérard pulled up in front of was a black cube, all clean, modern lines with silvery light pouring out from around the edges of each face of the building.
“Where are we?” Ashlynn asked as we walked towards the front door.
I smiled at the bouncer standing in front of the door, even though there was no one in line, and he stepped aside to let us through.
“Just wait and see. All will be revealed.”
Ashlynn groaned, and I barely stifled a laugh.
We walked into a dark hallway that wrapped around two corners before opening into the main room. A stage was set into the back wall with a single microphone stand in the center of the stage. Booths and tables filled the space, but they were all entirely emptied, just as I’d planned.
Ashlynn took a few more steps, head swiveling to take in the full view, and then she spun around to look at me, nose wrinkled as she giggled.
“Is this…a karaoke bar?”
“I want you to teach me to sing the way you do,” I said. “Will you?”
Ashlynn slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “No way. Are you serious?”
I waved a hand around at the empty room. “Do you think I’d have rented out the entire building for the night if I wasn’t serious?”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe this. Have you ever sung before? Are you any good?”
I shrugged. “That’s what I’m here to find out.”
As it turned out, I didn’t have any talent. At all.
Ashlynn did her best, but no matter how many of her tips and tricks I followed, I ended up sounding like a dying duck.
“You just have to listen to the note I’m singing,” she said, hitting a key on the piano and then matching it perfectly with her voice. “And then do the same thing.”
“I know I’m supposed to hit the same note as you, but that does not make it possible,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
Ashlynn insisted on making me stand beneath the spotlight to practice while she alternated between the piano and a chair that sat directly in front of the stage.
“You need to project,” she said, placing one hand on her lower back and the other on her stomach. “Straighten your spine, relax your jaw, and open your mouth wide while you sing.”
I shifted my body into a stiff version of what she had just demonstrated and gave it another go. “Okay, that time I sounded like the cat attacking the dying duck.”
“You’re not that bad,” Ashlynn said, a finger curled over her lip to hide her smile.
“It’s a miracle the dogs in the neighborhood haven’t started howling,” I said before belting out another horribly off-key note.
Finally, Ashlynn couldn’t hold it in anymore, and she succumbed to a full-on fit of laughter, throwing her head back, the sound of it rising to the ceiling and filling the room.
“I think I’m a lost cause, Miss Reed,” I said, stepping off the stage and shaking my head. I blinked, trying to let my eyes adjust to the sudden lack of spotlight. “You are a fine teacher, but I am not a fine student.”
My vision was still impaired from the bright lights, so I didn’t notice Ashlynn walking towards me until she was directly in front of me. The makeup around her eyes had smudged, giving her a smoky, intriguing look. It was hard not to reach out and pull her against me, to wrap her up in my arms and kiss her the way I’d been wanting to all day.
The only thing holding me back was the thought that I’d scare her away. That I’d push things too far and she’d shut down again. Hearing her laugh and seeing her smile was enough for me right now.
“You sit down and take a break,” she said, still trying to catch her breath from laughing so hard. “I’ll sing a simple ballad, and then maybe you can try to copy that.”
Ashlynn took the stage, and as soon as she was in front of the spotlight, her entire posture changed. Her shoulders were high, her chin lifted, back straight. She knew exactly who she was when she was on stage, and it reminded me of the way I felt behind the wheel of my car. It was like finding an essential organ I hadn’t known I’d been missing. It was like racing was a part of me. And from
where I sat in the front row, it was obvious that singing was part of Ashlynn.
She didn’t need any background music, she just took a deep breath and began. Even after hearing her sing in Vegas and at the opening day of the races, her voice still shocked me. It was hard to understand how any person could possess such a gift. She made it look effortless. Her eyes were closed, head tilted to the side as the words flowed out of her. As she hit the high notes, her hands lifted up on either side of her, cupped like she was holding the notes, letting them fall from her fingers like rain.
When she finished, hands falling gracefully back to her sides, I had forgotten what we were doing there. I was just in awe of her talent.
Ashlynn gave me an easy smile like nothing unusual had occurred, but I still had goosebumps on my arms and legs that refused to go away. She stepped off the stage, moving down the stairs until she was standing directly in front of me. I stood up, so we were only a few steps apart, and tried desperately to remember why I’d decided I shouldn’t kiss her, why I’d thought it was a bad idea—because, in that moment, it seemed like the only thing to do.
“You are incredible,” I said, speaking softly because I didn’t want to break the spell.
I took a step towards her, and Ashlynn didn’t back away. She tilted her head back to look up at me, her lips slightly parted.
“I feel so lucky to have had all this time with you,” I said, glad to unburden myself of my feelings, to finally tell Ashlynn what the time spent with her meant to me. “I can be myself with you. Everything about you puts me at ease. Your personality, your laugh, your singing. It’s why I wanted you to come to Monaco.”
I moved closer so we were sharing the same space, the same air. She tilted her head back even farther, her neck stretched long to look into my eyes.
“I feel the same way, Julien,” she said, whispering my name. The intimacy of it sent shivers down my spine.
“Good,” I said, talking so quietly I barely made a sound.
We were close enough that I could have stretched my fingers out and grabbed the material of her dress, pulled her against my chest. I could have wrapped myself around her and never let go, and I was moments away from doing just that when Ashlynn took a small step backwards. It wasn’t a retreat, so much as a cooling off moment. She wasn’t ready, and I knew it wouldn’t be wise to push it.
Still, she smiled.
“Would you like to continue feeling this way and spend the day with me tomorrow?” she asked, head tilted to the side in an adorable show of vulnerability.
She was asking me on a date, and surprisingly, that was better than kissing her.
I was about to give an emphatic “yes,” when I remembered how much work I had to do. I’d postponed a lot of meetings and interviews so I could take Ashlynn around Monte Carlo, but I wouldn’t be able to push back my responsibilities again.
“If you don’t mind waiting until the evening, then I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than spend more time with you.”
She nodded, golden curls tumbling around her face. “That sounds fine. What would you like to do? Or, will it be another surprise?”
“I’d love to take you out on my yacht,” I said, reaching out to brush a finger across her wrist, unable to keep my hands entirely to myself for another second. “We can relax and see where it leads.”
A blush crept into her cheeks, her pink lips pulled into a shy smile. “That sounds perfect.”
Chapter 14
Ashlynn
“That sounds perfect.”
That’s what I’d told Julien. It wasn’t until he dropped me off at my hotel room and I was alone that I realized what I’d agreed to. Yachts go out on the water. Open water.
I’m an idiot.
I’d had more sleepless nights since arriving in Monaco than ever before, and the night before our yacht date was yet another one. Even when landlocked, the thought of the ocean was enough to make me jittery, so being so close to the ocean and knowing I would be on Julien’s yacht in open water in just a few hours almost sent me into hives.
Unlike a lot of fears, my fear of the ocean had a very specific point of origin.
I’d been in Florida with my family, visiting my grandparents. They had recently bought a small house that sat right on the beach, lifted up on stilts to prevent flooding. Brianna and I had loved it there. Growing up in the Midwest, we’d been to a few lakes, but most of my water experience had come from the public pool and the bathtub.
Our first morning at the beach house, we’d woken up early, donned our swimsuits, and headed for the beach. I’d splashed around in the foamy surf, kicking water up at Brianna and then running away when she’d chased after me. We’d built a sandcastle and dug for crabs while our parents had lounged on beach chairs—Dad with his headphones in, listening to some sporting event on the radio, Mom with her latest romance novel. Every few minutes, they would look up and yell for us to stay close, to make sure we didn’t get into the water further than our knees.
As the day had gone on, more families had showed up to enjoy the water, and Brianna and I had made friends with some of the local kids. Except, they all went much further into the water than we were supposed to. They swam in until only their heads were above the water, their feet kicking furiously beneath them.
After a while, Brianna got bored of standing in the water, watching the other kids play, so she went back to the shore to work on our sandcastle. I looked up and noticed my mom’s face buried in her book, my dad’s eyes closed with his headphones still in. The kids were tossing a beach ball back and forth in the water, and I decided I could sneak out for a few minutes and then get back closer to shore before anyone noticed I was gone.
The sand shifted beneath my feet, but I still felt safe when the water lapped against my chin. The kids tossed me the ball a few times and I rolled it back to them across the waves. But then, one of the boys jumped out of the water and threw the ball down at me. I lifted my arms to protect myself, and the ball bounced off my forearm and ricocheted off, taking off across the waves.
“You touched it last!” the boy shouted.
I wanted to argue that the ball had only left the circle of our group because he’d thrown it too hard, but I was still trying to impress my new friends, so I groaned and started swimming out towards the ball.
It didn’t feel like I’d been swimming very long at all, maybe thirty seconds, when I lifted my head to see where the ball was. It had been caught by a wave and carried out further. I put my head down and kept paddling.
Twenty seconds later, I lifted my head again. The ball had floated even further out, and I realized it would be impossible for me to catch up to it. I tried to turn around and tell my new friends this, but when I stretched my legs out to touch the bottom, there was nothing there.
Panic bloomed in my chest and I tried swimming back towards my friends, but no matter how hard I paddled, they never came any closer. I swam until my lungs burned, but I couldn’t seem to fight the ocean. I wanted to call out for help, but I didn’t want my parents to know how far out I’d gone. Dad would make me stay out of the water the rest of the week, and it would completely ruin our trip. So, I dove underwater, my eyes squeezed shut, and tried to duck beneath the current. When I got back up to the surface, I’d been pulled out even further.
I waved my arms, trying to catch the attention of my friends, but I could barely see them above the waves. I opened my mouth to shout, and then suddenly, I was swallowing sea water. A wave had crashed over my head, knocking me underwater. When I came back to the surface, I hacked and coughed, but by the time my throat had cleared, I sank back underwater. I couldn’t tell anymore whether it was because of the waves or my own exhaustion, but I bobbed up and down in the water, wanting desperately to cry out, but no longer having the energy.
I was convinced that I would die there. The ocean was too big. Earlier that day, Dad had been warning Brianna and me against going too far out into the ocean. “The ocean is a huge pla
ce. If you go missing out there, it would be a miracle if anyone even found your body.”
His words echoed in my head as I sucked in salt water. They would never find my body. My parents wouldn’t know what had happened to me.
My body gave up as the exhaustion took hold of me, and I stopped kicking and sank beneath the water.
The next thing I remember is being yanked out of the water by my hair and thrown over a blue surfboard on my stomach. A man was talking to me, asking me questions, but I just laid there, my hands and feet dragging in the water as he paddled us both to shore. The lifeguards shined lights in my eyes and put an oxygen mask on my face. Someone on shore had called the ambulance, so I was taken to the hospital as a precaution and my mom slept in my bedroom that night to monitor me for secondary drowning.
I’d been right. My dad did ban me from getting in the water for the rest of the week, but I didn’t care in the least. In fact, I didn’t intend to ever get near the ocean again.
Until I met a handsome race car driver who designed yachts, apparently.
Julien arranged for Gérard to take me to the marina because he needed to help prep the yacht for the trip. Even though he had repeatedly referred to it as a yacht, I still found myself surprised by the size of the vessel. It was as wide and tall as a house with an extensive crew who all wore white polos and bright blue shorts.
Standing on the marina, I could feel the wooden dock swaying with the ocean’s waves, and my empty stomach sloshed. I knew I should have eaten something to try to settle my nerves, but nothing had sounded good.
I wanted to get on the yacht. I really did. Julien was standing on the deck talking to his crew, and he had on khakis and a white-and-blue striped shirt. His hair was slightly messy, as usual, all curled up at the ends from the sea air. He looked like the world’s sexiest sailor, and I didn’t want to miss out on a single second of it because of a childhood trauma. I didn’t want fear to hold me back anymore.
So, taking slow breaths in and out, I walked up the gangplank and stepped into the yacht.
