Part 17 (1/2)
He was halfway out of the car, but he paused and glanced back. ”The staff at the Castille is efficient. Although,” he added with a grin, ”it helps that I know the owner.”
Of course he did. He f.u.c.king knew everybody. Although, that explained the excellent service, Nicky thought, and the excessive courtesy and lack of questions when she checked in. Not to mention, the view of the Eiffel Tower in her room.
After helping her out, he pulled her close for a second. ”Thanks for coming along.”
”Thanks for asking.” She didn't have time to say more. Jordi was plucking at her father's sleeve.
”Daddy, Daddy! You won't believe how fast we drove here! It was so much fun! Barry said you were waiting and we had to roll! Didn't he, Vernie?”
”We could have raced in the Indy 500,” Vernie noted, her cheeks still slightly flushed from the excitement. ”I gather you were in a bit of a hurry.”
Johnny met her gaze over his daughter's head. ”It seemed like a good idea to leave. I felt like swimming in the sun. How about you, sweetie?” he said, brus.h.i.+ng his fingers over his daughter's curls. ”Are you in the mood for a swim on our beach?”
”Yes, yes, yes!” Jordi was fidgeting from foot to foot. ”Are we going right NOW?”
”Right this second. You lead the way. Over there where Cole and Barry are standing.”
”Lisa must have called you at lunch,” Vernie muttered, keeping pace with Johnny and Nicky as they followed Jordi. ”I saw your look.”
”Who else precipitates a crisis wherever she goes.” He grimaced. ”But everything's back on track; Lisa and Chantel are headed for the States. We're going to wait for the plane to return, so I thought Nice would be as good a place as any to sit it out. You'll have a couple of days to drink some of that local wine.”
”Twist my arm,” Vernie said, grinning.
Johnny chuckled, then glanced at Nicky. ”You'll like the wine. It's a nice, smooth red.”
She was figuring there were things in Nice she was going to like better than the wine, but Johnny Patrick's ego was already more than adequate. ”Sounds good,” she said, in lieu of the X-rated comment on the tip of her tongue. ”I love red wine.”
Twenty-five.
She'd seen a villa like Johnny's on TV once. It was on a program about some art collector who'd wanted to live like Monet and Matisse-you know breathe the same air, absorb the same vibe, wallow in the life of an artist without actually doing the work. Not to mention this guy was like ten times richer than either Monet or Matisse-neither of whom had been exactly poor.
Anyway, it was one h.e.l.luva villa.
Not that she begrudged Johnny his wealth.
He'd worked for it.
But, jeez, consider how hard it was going to be readjusting to her life once she was home again. A person could get real used to this splendor. Like, having a limo always waiting at the airport or something like this Garden of Eden surrounding your Mediterranean retreat. Splendor aside, though, she was mostly going to miss the surprisingly down-to-earth guy who'd just whispered in her ear before they'd gotten out of the car, ”I'm glad you're here. I haven't felt this good in ages.”
Not that she'd had time to do more than smile in return before they were greeted by a young woman wearing a hand-dyed sundress and sandals, who'd been waiting on the broad marble steps.
”Claire, I'd like you to meet Nicky. Nicky, this is Claire who's nice enough to put up with our erratic schedule.” Johnny smiled. ”I apologize for the short notice. Things came up at the last minute.”
”We're pleased to see you anytime,” the young woman replied in sligh tl y accented English. ”Marie's at the beach, but I told her I'd send for her the minute you arrive. She's thrilled Jordi's going to be here.”
”I'm going down to the beach right now,” Jordi announced as she came around the car. ”Is that okay, Daddy? Pleeease! Vernie'll come with me, won't you?”
Johnny looked at Vernie.
”Sure, kiddo.” Vernie handed her purse to Johnny. ”Send down some of that red wine when you get a chance,” she added. ”And my big hat”-she smiled-”and I wouldn't mind a snack.” Johnny glanced at Claire. ”I'll get the hat, if you get the other stuff.” He looked at Vernie again. ”We'll be down in a minute. I just want to show Nicky her room.”
”Andre will bring Vernie her things,” Claire offered, with a smile for Johnny. ”And we're having bouillabaisse for dinner, Vernie,” she added, ”so save your appet.i.te.”
Vernie grinned. ”I must have died and gone to heaven. I don't suppose we're having Le Vacherin for dessert.”
Claire laughed. ”But, of course.”
”I don't know why you can't set up your studio here,” Vernie challenged. ”Think how much work you'd get done without interruptions.”
”Think how hard it would be to get anyone to work out here with all the distractions-topless beaches, great bars, great wines,” Johnny noted, smiling faintly.
”Sure, rain on my parade.”
”Ver-nee! Let's go! I want to see Marie!” Jordi insisted, pulling on Vernie's hand. ”Daddy, stop talking to her!”
”Okay, okay, we're going.” The nanny winked at Johnny. ”Just think about it, that's all I'm saying.”
”Will do. See you in five.” He turned to Claire. ”Nicky's in Victoria's room, right?”
”Yes. All is ready.”
”Victoria's room?” Nicky murmured, thinking it can't be.
”Queen Victoria used to spend some time here.”
His voice was so casual he could have been remarking on the weather. ”Do you mean to tell me this is Queen Victoria's place?”
”Not anymore.”
”But it had been.”
”Yeah.”
”OhmyG.o.d! I'm going to be able to dine on this for - ever . ”
”It's not that big a deal. She only came here around Easter each year. And that was a h.e.l.luva long time ago.”
What could she say? She wasn't going to argue with him about time limits on historical personages. She wasn't going to say, Does anyone complain about sleeping in the Lincoln bedroom in the White House because the guys been dead for over a hundred years? ”I suppose you're right,” she said, polite as h.e.l.l.
”I'll show you the layout, and then we'll go down to the beach.”
Claire nodded at their luggage. ”Andre will carry your bags in after he brings Vernie her wine.”
”I can carry my own bag,” Nicky said. ”Really, it's not a problem.” Vinnie, Cole, and Barry had gone ahead in another car. Not that she needed them to shlep her luggage anyway.
”We'll bring them in ourselves,” Johnny agreed, smoothly. ”Thank you, Claire.”