“I’m flying her to a new doctor and a new clinic tomorrow.”
“I’d like to come back to be with her.”
“We’ll see,” she said. “I’ll call you in a day or so.”
; “I’m sorry,” I said.
“Yes. I know. Watch yourself,” she added, and hung up, leaving me feeling as if I was dangling in space. I imagined she had called Norbert, too, and then I thought, actually hoped, he had called Paul to let him know I was back to being free. It wasn’t much more than an hour later when Paul called.
“I understand Mrs. Brittany has been delayed,” he said, without mentioning why. Had Norbert told him the reason or just told him she was delayed?
“Yes.”
“I’d like to take you onto the yacht for dinner tonight. I have my father’s chef at our disposal. Will you come?”
I was depressed about Sheena, but since there was nothing I could do, I thought anything that would distract me from thinking about her and her situation would be good. Besides, perhaps this was going to be the night I dreamed of. Perhaps he was planning to propose to me, and what more romantic spot than on the deck of his yacht, sipping champagne and looking out at Monte Carlo all lit up?
What would I do and say if he did propose? Would I feel any sense of guilt? Surely something like this was always a danger for Mrs. Brittany with any of her beautiful and sophisticated women. Why wasn’t it possible for a wealthy man to fall in love with one and woo her away? Had that happened in the past? She would never discuss any of her other girls in any detail. Anyway, we had risks. Why shouldn’t she? Obviously, nothing like this had put her out of business, I thought.
“Okay,” I said. “I have yet to be on the sea.”
“Well, this might be more than just being on the sea. Maybe pack a little bag for an overnight.”
“Just a little bag?” I teased.
“Pack a trunk if you want,” he said. What did that mean?
I informed Margery that I wouldn’t be home for dinner and maybe not breakfast, either. Less than an hour later, Paul arrived. I had only an overnight bag when I appeared.
“You look disappointed with my overnight bag,” I said.
He laughed. “My mother’s idea of an overnight bag is five suitcases and one bag just for shoes. It’s not that she needs it all. It’s that she likes to have the same sorts of choices she has at home.”
“I didn’t think we would need that much clothing on your yacht,” I said, and he laughed.
“I gave the ship’s crew the night off,” he told me when we pulled up to the dock, “but we have some staff to help with our dinner.”
There were so many yachts anchored, and I didn’t know which one was his family’s. He took my bag, and we started down the dock, passing one yacht after another, all luxurious and big to me, but when he stopped, I was shocked at the size of his.
“How big is this?”
“Only one hundred twenty feet,” he said. “Sleeps ten, with a crew of five.”
We boarded, and he showed me the luxurious living quarters with a big-screen television and the dining area with a table that could seat ten. There were two settings at the moment. Then we entered the galley, where his father’s chef was preparing Lobster Fra Diavolo for our dinner. He introduced us and then showed me the owner’s cabin. It was as big as the suite I had back at Mrs. Brittany’s estate on Long Island.
I didn’t want to sound like some country bumpkin, so I didn’t tell him how surprised I was to discover that rooms on a yacht could be as big as some apartments, if not bigger than many.
“Do you want to change for dinner?” he asked.
“No. I’m okay. You?”
“I always go casual on the yacht. My parents like to dress as if we were on the Queen Mary at the captain’s dinner.”
“Sounds like sometimes you’re barely tolerated in your family.”
“Sometimes. Maybe more than sometimes,” he said, laughing. “C’mon. We’ll have cocktails on deck.”