The Ruthless Gentleman(20)

The photographer followed. “Hey, you shy? Don’t speak English?”

During high season, it wasn’t unusual to be approached by paparazzi asking who was staying on which yacht. Sometimes they even offered a little money in exchange for information, but they were easy to ignore. “I’m just trying to enjoy a few hours off.”

“So you are yacht crew. I knew it.” He punched the air as if it was some huge victory. Maybe this guy was new. “Anyone interesting on board?”

“Nope,” I replied. I was pretty sure a picture of Hayden Wolf wasn’t going to earn this guy any money.

“Not Leonardo DiCaprio or JLo?”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I said, seeing the road split off in two and the promise of a restaurant table with shade farther up.

“Give you a hundred bucks if you tell me who’s on your boat.”

I stopped and turned to him. Like a hundred bucks was incentive for anything. It wouldn’t even cover a single physical therapy session. These paps needed to understand that the tip was a much bigger incentive to keep quiet. “No one you would be interested in, but I did hear that man-child Leonardo is going to be in Nice later in the season.” I hadn’t heard anything about Leonardo DiCaprio that I hadn’t read on Page Six, but maybe if I gave this guy something he’d beat it.

“What if I gave you two hundred bucks?”

This photographer wasn’t getting it. I just shook my head and started to walk again.

This time he didn’t follow me, and I headed into the backstreets away from the chatter, laughter and popping champagne corks of the busy waterfront. Hayden had said I needed to be at the patisserie by two, so I still had some time to call my dad.

Glancing around, I spotted a public telephone kiosk up the street. I grinned at the thought that I could unload a little—be the girl from Sacramento who had her whole life in front of her instead of the woman who was looking after her family by yachting in Saint Tropez.

“Daddy, it’s me,” I said when he answered, excited to get to talk to him away from everything.

“Hey, kiddo, we were just talking about you.”

“I wish I were there,” I said. “I miss you guys.”

“Well, you not being around means Michael and I get complete control over the television, watch sports all day and eat what we like. Isn’t that right?”

I grinned as Michael yelled abuse in the background.

“You miss me, you know you do.”

“Of course we do. What are you up to? Been peeling grapes for your guests?”

I laughed. “Not today.” Hayden had still been in his office when I got on shift at seven this morning, which meant he’d worked all night. Grapes were the last thing on his mind.

“Guests aren’t being too handsy, are they?”

Early on in my career I’d made the mistake of giving my dad too many details about the things guests got up to. Now he worried.

“Not at all,” I said, trying to reassure my dad, though I thought back to Hayden touching my arm. It hadn’t been disrespectful. Just familiar. The fact it caused my body to heat and shudder was my problem—Hayden hadn’t been out of line. “I’m running some errands for the client.”

“Always busy running around after everyone else. You need someone to wait on you for a while. Treat yourself.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” I liked to be busy.

“I know you’ve told me it’s difficult to date on yachts, but maybe you could find another way to think about yourself, carve out a life for yourself. You’re a generous girl and I worry you’re giving up too much of yourself.”

I rolled my lips together, trying to block out what my dad was saying. “You know that I want to take care of Michael.”

“And we both appreciate it. But it isn’t the only thing you should be doing. You have your own life to lead as well.”

Was I just becoming a vessel for other people’s needs and desires? Was I not my own person anymore? It was true that yachting had supplanted any ambitions I’d had before Michael’s accident. But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to take time for myself. I just didn’t have many opportunities. I guess I could take up knitting.

“I’m in the South of France. How bad could life be?”

“Well, as long as you’re taking time to do what you want to do. It’s okay to be selfish here and there. It’s okay to enjoy yourself.”

I’d not been particularly adventurous since I started yachting. Most of the crew I’d worked with spent time at the end of each season exploring and getting to know the country they’d been sailing around. I’d always wanted to get back home.

“Okay, Dad, look, I’ve got to go.” I was nearly out of minutes, and I didn’t have long until I had to get to the patisserie. “Tell Michael I love him. And go easy on the pizza, you hear me?”

“Love you, honey.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

I hung up and as I headed to the address Hayden had given me, I tried to remember the last time I’d done something selfish or reckless. I could drink tequila with the best of them. It wasn’t like I was afraid of fun. But it always took place within very carefully drawn parameters.

I’d always wanted to spend more time in Italy, so maybe I’d take a few days at the end of this season and be a tourist instead of going right back to Sacramento. I’d at least think about it even if it was just for a day or two.