Five Days in Paris (13 page)

“It wouldn't be easy,” Olivia said quietly, thinking of herself and still holding his hand. She didn't think less of him because of what he was saying to her. On the contrary, she thought more of him, because he was able to say it. “It terrifies me too. But at least you have a life with her, as flawed as it may be. She's there, she talks to you, she cares in her own way, even if she is limited, or too attached to her father. But she must have loyalty to you too, and to your children. You have a life together, Peter, even if it is less than perfect. Andy and I have nothing. We haven't in years. He's been gone, almost since the beginning.” Peter suspected that it was more than true and he didn't try to defend him.

“Then maybe you should leave.” He worried about her now though, she seemed so vulnerable and so frail. He didn't like to think of her alone, even here, in her quaint little village. He kept thinking how painful it was going to be not seeing her again. After only two days, she had become important to him, and he couldn't imagine what it would be like not talking to her. The legend he had glimpsed in the elevator had become a woman.

“Could you go back to your parents for a while, until things calm down again, and then come back here?” He was trying to help her work things out, and she smiled at him. They truly were friends, partners in crime now.

“Maybe. I'm not sure my mother would be strong enough to handle it, particularly if my father tries to fight me, and sides with Andy.”

“How pleasant.” Peter looked instantly disapproving. “Do you think he would do that?”

“He might. Politicians usually stick together. My brother agrees with anything Andy does, just on principle. And my father always supports him. It's nice for them, rotten for the rest of us. And my father thinks Andy should run for president. I don't suppose my defection would be viewed with approval. It's bound to hurt his chances, or knock him out of the race completely. A divorced president is unthinkable. Personally, I think I'd be doing him a favor. I think that's one job that would be a nightmare. A life from hell. I have no doubt in my mind about that one. It would kill me.” He nodded, amazed to be discussing this with her at all. As complicated as his own life was, particularly with Vicotec blowing in the wind, it was certainly a lot simpler than hers was. At least his life was private. But her every move was scrutinized. And no one in his family had the remotest intention of running for public office, except Katie for the school board. Olivia, on the other hand, was related to a governor, a senator, a congressman, and possibly a president in the not too distant future, provided she didn't leave him. It was amazing.

“Do you think you might stay, if he decides to run, I mean?”

“I don't see how I could. It would be the ultimate sellout. But I suppose anything is possible. If I lose my mind, or he has me bound and gagged and put in a closet. He could tell people I was sleeping.” Peter smiled at that, and they walked slowly out of the restaurant arm in arm after he paid for their breakfast. He was surprised by how cheap the food was.

“If he did that, then I'd have to come and rescue you again,” he said with a grin, as they sat down on the dock and dangled their feet over the water. He was still wearing a white shirt and the trousers to his suit, and she was still barefoot. They made an intriguing contrast.

“Is that what you did this time?” she asked, leaning against him easily with a broad grin. “Rescue me?” She looked pleased by the description. No one had rescued her in years, and it was a welcome gesture.

“I thought I was …you know, from kidnappers, or terrorists, whoever that guy in the white shirt was who followed you out of the Place Vendôme. He looked like a really shady character to me. I definitely thought a rescue was in order.” He was smiling at her, and the sun was hot as it shone down on them, swinging their feet as they sat on the dock like children.

“I like that,” she said, and suggested they go back to the beach. “We could walk to my hotel and go swimming from there.” But he laughed at that. He was certainly not dressed to swim in his trousers. “We could buy you some shorts or swimming trunks. It's a shame to waste this weather.”

He looked at her wistfully. It was a shame to waste any of it, but there were limits to what they had a right to. “I should be getting back to Paris. It took me almost ten hours to get here.”

“Don't be ridiculous. You can't come all this way just for breakfast. Besides, you have nothing to do there except wait to hear from Suchard, and he may not even call you. You can call the hotel for messages and call him from here if you have to.”

“That certainly takes care of it,” he said, laughing at her rapid disposal of his obligations.

“You could rent a room in my hotel, and we could both drive back tomorrow,” she said matter-of-factly, putting off their departure for another day, but Peter wasn't at all sure he should let her do that, though the invitation was more than tempting.

“Don't you think you should at least call him?” Peter suggested quietly, as they walked down the beach hand in hand in the blazing sun. And as he looked at her, radiant next to him, he realized that never in his life had he known such freedom.

“Not necessarily,” Olivia said, looking anything but contrite. “Look at the publicity he'll get out of this, the sympathy, the attention. It would be a terrible shame to spoil it for him.”

“You've been in politics too long.” Peter laughed at her in spite of himself, and sat down on the sand next to her, as she pulled him down beside her. He had taken his shoes and socks off by then and was carrying them. He felt like a beach bum. “You're beginning to think like they do.”

“Never. Even at my worst, I'm not rotten enough. I couldn't be. I don't want anything badly enough. The only thing I ever wanted in my life I lost. I have nothing left to lose now.” It was the saddest statement he'd ever heard, and he knew she was talking about her baby.

“You might have more children one day, Olivia,” he said gently, as she lay down next to him on the sand with her eyes closed, as though she could keep the pain away if she refused to see it. But he could see tears in the corners of her eyes and he wiped them away gently. “It must have been awful …I'm so sorry …” He wanted to cry with her, to hold her in his arms, to take away all the grief she'd had for the past six years. But he felt helpless to do anything as he watched her.

“It was awful,” she whispered with her eyes still closed. “”Thank you, Peter … for being my friend …and for being here.” She opened her eyes and looked at him then. Their eyes met and held for a long time. He had come a long way for her, and suddenly in this little French town, hidden from everyone who knew them, they both knew they were there for each other, for as long as it was possible, as long as they dared. He leaned on one elbow looking down at her and knew with absolute certainty he had never felt this way for anyone, and he had never known anyone like her. He couldn't think of anything or anyone else now.

“I want to be there for you,” he said gently, looking down at her, tracing her face and her lips with his fingers. “…and I have no right to be. I've never done anything like this.” He was tormented by her, and yet she was the balm that soothed all his other ills. Being with her was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and also the most confusing.

“I know that,” she said softly. From her gut, from her soul, from her heart, she knew everything about him. “I don't expect anything from you,” she explained, “you've already been there for me more than anyone in the last ten years. I can't ask more than that …and I don't want to make you unhappy,” she said, looking up at him sadly. In some ways, she knew so much more about life than he did, about grief, about loss, about pain, but even more about betrayal.

“Shhh …” he said, putting a finger to her lips, and then without another sound, he lay close to her, and took her in his arms and kissed her. There was no one there to see anything, to care what they did, or take photographs, or stop them. All they had were their consciences and the obstacles they'd brought along with them, which lay like debris from the sea, washed up on the beach all around them. Their children, their mates, their memories, their lives. And yet none of it seemed to matter as he kissed her with all the passion that had been pent up over the years and had been long forgotten. They lay in each other's arms for a long time, and her kisses were as hungry as his, her soul even more needy. It was a long time before they remembered where they were, and forced themselves to pull apart and lay there smiling at each other.

“I love you, Olivia,” he said breathlessly. He was the first to speak as he pulled her closer, as they lay side by side on the beach, looking up at the sunshine. “That must sound crazy to you after two days, except that I feel I've known you all my life. I have no right to even say it to you …but I love you.” He looked down at her with something in his eyes that had never been there, and she was smiling.

“I love you too. God only knows what it'll bring to us, probably not much, but I've never been so happy in my life. Maybe we should both run away. To hell with Vicotec, and Andy.” They both laughed at the cavalier way she said it, and it was extraordinary to realize that at that precise moment not a single soul knew where either of them were. She was thought to have been kidnapped or worse, and he had simply disappeared with a rented car, a bottle of Evian, and an apple. It was heady stuff knowing that no one in the world could find them.

And then Peter thought of something. Maybe at that very moment Interpol was on its way there. “Why is it that your husband didn't figure out you might have come here?” It had been so obvious to him, surely it would have been to Andy.

“I've never told him about this. I've always kept it as my secret.”

“You did?” Peter looked stunned when she said it. She had told him the first night they'd talked. And she hadn't told Andy? He was flattered. Her trust in him seemed extraordinary, but it was mutual. There was nothing in the world he wouldn't have told her, or hadn't. “I guess we're safe here then. For a few hours at least.” He was still determined to go back late that afternoon, but after they bought a bathing suit for him, and swam in the ocean side by side, his resolve began to weaken. It was a lot more exciting than swimming in the Ritz pool had been. He hadn't even known her then, and she had tantalized him as she swam by him. But here, she swam very close to him, and he could hardly bear it.

She said swimming in the ocean frightened her, she had never liked sailing for that reason. She worried about the currents and the tides, and what land of fish were swimming around her. But she felt protected with him, and they swam out to a small boat tied to a buoy. They climbed into it and rested for a little while, and it took all the strength he had, not to make love to her right in the little dinghy. But they'd already made an agreement. Peter was adamant that if something happened between them, it would spoil everything. They would both be consumed by guilt, and they both knew that whatever this was that had blossomed between them overnight could have no future other than friendship. They couldn't afford to risk destroying it by doing something foolish. And although Olivia's marriage was far more precarious than his, and less intact, she agreed with him. Having an affair with him would only complicate matters when she went back to Paris to talk to Andy. But it was certainly difficult keeping their relationship as close to platonic as they could, and limiting it to kisses. They both talked about it again when they got back to the beach, and tried not to get too carried away, but it was far from easy. Their bodies were wet and smooth as they lay very near, as they talked of all the things that were important to them. They talked about their childhoods, hers in Washington, and his in Wisconsin. He talked about how out of place he had always felt at home, and how much more he had wanted, and how lucky he had been when he found Katie.

She asked about his family, and he told her about his parents and his sister. He told her of his mother and sister dying of cancer, and why Vicotec meant so much to him.

“If they'd had a product like that available to them, it might have made a difference,” he said sadly.

“Maybe,” she said philosophically. “But sometimes you can't win, no matter how many miracle drugs you have at your disposal.” They'd tried everything, and they still hadn't been able to save Alex. And then she turned to him, thinking of his sister.

“Did she have lads?” He nodded, and tears filled his eyes as he looked into the distance. “Do they come to visit?”

He felt ashamed when he answered. He looked Olivia in the eye, and knew how wrong he had been. Suddenly, being with her made him want to change that. It made him want to change a lot of things, some of which were easier than others.

“My brother-in-law moved away, and remarried within the year. I didn't hear from him for a long time. I don't know why, maybe he wanted to put it all behind him. He didn't call and tell me where they were till he and his new wife needed money. I think they had a couple of more kids by then. And I let Katie tell me that it had been too long, that they probably didn't give a damn, and the kids didn't know me. I let it go, and I haven't heard from them in a long time. They were living on a ranch in Montana the last time I heard from them. Sometimes I wonder if Katie likes the fact that I have no family, except for her and the boys and Frank. She and my sister never really hit it off, and she was furious that Muriel inherited the farm and I didn't. But my father was right to give it to them. I didn't want it or need it, and my father knew that.” He looked at Olivia again then, knowing what he had known for years, and refused to acknowledge, in deference to Katie. “I was wrong to let those kids slip out of my life. I should have gone out to Montana to see them.” He owed that to his sister. But it would have been painful, and it had been so much easier to listen to Katie.

“You still could,” Olivia said kindly.

“I'd like to do that. If I can still find them.”

“I'll bet you can, if you try.”

He nodded, knowing what he needed to do now. And then he was startled by her next question.