Instead of sticking to Fabre’s side, I stood, looking out at the sun drowning in the horizon of the sea, a hot orange ball that would soon be replaced by a velvet sky of black and a million pin pricks of starlight.
Closing my eyes, I moved, beginning the journey into the mind and body of an alter ego that belonged to someone else. If I kept thinking about saving my husband from a horrible fate, my nerves would make me stumble, and I had to concentrate on getting through one moment at a time.
A hand almost bigger than my waist slid around, pulling me in closer. His breath smelled of cigarettes and red wine. “You are a pretty one.” Fabre’s eyes journeyed to my breasts, and then he sighed, continuing in English. “Prettier than the rest. You are also brave to do this. The yacht is filled with men like me, men willing to tear you apart from the inside.” He inhaled my hair. “It will be worth it. As long as Collette and Vivian are safe.”
Oh, it was likethat. Fabre and Colette sitting in a tree. She didn’t mention that Fabre was…something more than an escort to her. Colette had an aversion to love. It seemed to make her itch and break out in hives. But something told me it was different with this man. I should’ve felt it when she gave him an ounce of vulnerability at her apartment. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I had been holding my breath, too afraid to breath wrong around this man, in fear that he’d realize who I was. I felt it then, though: his love for Colette.
Had she promised him forever? Or was that what he was after with her? Whatever their game, it was hidden. Nemours would kill him if his most trusted man threatened to take his bread and butter. In the eyes of Nemours, these two equaled taboo love at his expense. Not to mention that at some point Collette had been his wife. I wasn’t sure how that secret came into all of this mess, but it did.
No wonder Collette’s men went missing—Fabre didn’t seem like the type to share her, and Nemours refused to share his property.
The boat slowed down to a float, another boat coming up beside us. Fabre released me and took a step back, eyes narrowed against the glare. A woman with a black doctor’s bag was being helped from one boat to another. Fabre was surprised to see her. My knees almost gave out.
“Merde,” I whispered too low for anyone to hear.
Dr. Benedetta Nicchi’s hair glowed gold in the fading light, her skin emitting a healthy and attractive sun-kissed tint. Expensive glasses covered her eyes. She wore a silk pantsuit that fluttered in the wind. She reminded me of a model more than a doctor.
With a jolt to the nervous system, I realized she had come to take Brando’s heart.
“Yes. My father was the attending physician to Giovi Spataro’s father. He died in this room. He trusts me. To a certain extent.”
One minute she was loyal to Giovi, the other to Tito. Social climber came to mind, the kind of woman who goes where the money is. The real questions wereone, would she recognize me, andtwo, where did her loyalties rest in that moment?
The doctor felt like a booby trap, ready to blow up in my face at any moment. So I kept my face turned from her, not wanting her to get a good look at me. Fabre might havethoughthe knew me, but Benedetta had seen me recently. I hoped the makeup, wig, and costume would throw her off long enough to get me on the yacht.
She strolled into the small cabin, occupying a small section of the long seat that surrounded the windows. I heard her plop down and set her bag by her feet. “What is going on here?” she said to Fabre, vehemence in her voice.
“Vivian,” Fabre said to Benedetta, like that explained everything. “And use English only.”
“Oh, it is like that, is it?”Benedetta responded in English. “Am I being left out now?”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.Left out of what?
This sparked an argument between Fabre and Benedetta. Fabre insisted that Colette did not tell her about Vivian because it all happened so quickly. I was Collette’s replacement for the evening, and as long as he got me on the yacht without Nemours noticing, it would happen like it always did. Collette’s “pick,”me, would perform, and after, Fabre would pay me my share, and life would move on. Then Benedetta asked if Collette had made her choice—seeing as she hadn’t heard from her. Some of the truth spilled out in English then.
Benedetta was Collette’s lover. So was Fabre. And there was some sort of love triangle going on between the three of them.
After Benedetta told Fabre she would speak to Collette directly about the matter,end of conversation, and call later to check on Collette and Vivian, their conversation took a sharp turn.
“The wife?” Benedetta asked.
My ears pricked.
“Has not left the castle in Italy, Nemours assures me.”
“Waa waa,” Benedetta said, mock crying. “Nemours could never get over her. I am glad this is coming to an end. I would have taken her if it meant Colette was free of the burdens.”
“Nemours is obsessed with this woman.” I heard the lighter flick open, the first puff, and Fabre exhaling. He must have lit another cigarette. “I do not understand it.”
I turned some, just slightly, but enough to see them from the corner of my eye.
“She has something.” Benedetta snatched the cigarette from him, taking a puff. She let it out slowly, eyes closed. Then she paused, offering Fabre her mouth. He sucked in her air, blowing out a shared cloud of regurgitated tobacco.
These people were giving off vibes I wasn’t used to. An attraction between Benedetta and Fabre couldn’t be ignored.
Benedetta handed Fabre his cigarette back. “I do hope that Nemours has been wise about this. The wife, what is her name again?”
“Scarlett,” Fabre answered.
