Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
V ivian and I go our separate ways in downtown Nice when we return from La Jolie Plage. She has a picnic date with a woman she met in Saint-Tropez. And I’ve got to get a move on to the Chessley villa.
On the bus back to èze, I twirl the metal key as giddily as a kid in a candy shop, and rest my head on the window. I know I’ll miss it. I hug my backpack tight and pull out my journal, reminiscing on the documented memories via bullet points, ticket stubs, and polaroids. The transfixing coast kissing the shoreline. Laughing uncontrollably as Emi teaches me the French “R.” Helping Josie pick out her outfit while Milo and Manon wrestle downstairs. Writing and filming for Conseils . Sharing chance luxurious moments with Jamie.
My phone dings, and I’m reminded that I completely forgot to message Angela that our “squash Damien” plan had worked. When I lift my phone, it reveals missed calls and piles of texts from Angela, Estelle, and Jamie.
My phone must have lost connection passing through the mountainous highways from Antibes.
Estelle’s latest all-caps message doesn’t startle me at first. It’s how she types all of her texts. But after reading it in entirety, I promptly ask the bus driver to let me off here at the Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat peninsula, knowing he’ll tell me it’s not on this line.
“We’re already here though!” I want to scream. But I just stick with the excessive pleading until he pumps the brakes, much to his and the other passengers’ annoyance.
I call Estelle, cursing myself until she answers on the last ring and maneuvering down the terra-cotta sidewalk amid blood-orange and turquoise buildings sandwiched together.
“Estelle!” I dodge hanging flowerpots as I navigate through a winding seaside street. In the distance, èze’s mountains cast dominant shadows over this snug harbor. Strange how I’ve watched this peninsula through almost every sunrise and sunset up at the villa, but this is the first time I’m actually seeing it from ground level. “Which boat are they?” I say into the phone, stretching my neck toward the shipyard lined with yachts, sailboats, and ferries.
Tourists coming and going without a sense of direction dwell at the dock’s entrance, where cafés and pizza places have set up shop, adding to the foot traffic.
“We’re at the end of the dock. A long sailboat with a navy-blue stripe. Le joug is its name,” Estelle chimes back. Wind chops through our connection, even though we’re less than 500 feet apart. But I spot them and scurry my way through hordes of people.
Estelle explains that Nick and Jamie were called to a can’t-miss goodwill trip to meet and greet the owners of an Italian hotel franchise they just acquired. They’re headed to Genoa to start their four-week, seven-city journey across the neighboring country.
And I have to see Jamie. I have to thank him. For championing my dreams even when I didn’t. For connecting me to Lottie at the party. For actually giving a damn. He’s been so adamant that even if he couldn’t have his dream, that I have mine. But that’s not how this works. He’s just as worthy of his goals too. I can’t let him tie his joy to my journey. That’s his to own.
So I have to give him the key he’s owed. It’s up to him what he’ll do with it.
“Pardon,” I grunt, almost taking a nosedive into the bay as I avoid a woman rolling her suitcase across my open-toed shoe.
“Kat!” Milo runs toward me. I tousle his blond hair growing back to the moppy style he had when I first met him. Lifting him up in a mama-bear hug, I carry him over to the group of Chessleys giving stiff shoulder pats.
Jamie turns around and pulls his sunglasses off, his eyes glued to mine. He’s pulled his hair into one of those tight low buns and wears a white polo shirt and slim black plaid trousers.
“You didn’t answer,” he says softly.
“No connection,” I respond, putting Milo down but never breaking my gaze with Jamie.
From inside the yacht bobbing next to us, someone shouts a hello.
“Good old Howie’s captaining us to Italy,” Jamie explains.
“You’re really going?” I examine the two-story ship.
Jamie’s mouth gapes open, while Angela beats him to the punch.
“He insists that he won’t have it any other way,” she declares.
“Well I don’t really have any other choice,” Jamie says begrudgingly.
Angela and Nick share a concerned glance. I lock eyes with Angela, who’s visage is filled with anxious hope. I’m about to pull the key out of my bag when Howie honks the horn from the control room on the top deck and gives a wave.
“And that’s our cue,” Jamie says, giving his younger siblings quick hugs, then hoisting his bags onto the boat, all while trying to mask those melancholy green eyes.
“Wait,” I say, hopping up the yacht steps and grasping his forearm. “Before you go. Tell me the truth. Do you honestly believe if you do this, that you’ll have no regrets?”
Milo, Josie, and Manon have followed me, but they race up to the second floor to try on PFDs.
“I’ll never regret helping my family,” Jamie says, looking at his parents standing on the dock.
Angela presses a hand to her cheek.
“If you had the chance to get it back, would you?” I ask.
“I’m full out of chances, Kat.”
I swing my bag around my torso. “What if I said you had one more?”
Jamie’s expression trades between intrigue and confusion.
Pulling a fist out of my backpack, I unravel my fingers, letting the silver key glisten in the sun. Angela covers her mouth, muffling her gasp.
“You did it,” she whispers from the dock.
Jamie points to the key but steps back. “Where did you get that? How did...?”
I take two steps closer to him, my palm still outstretched. “You deserve the chance to give it a chance.”
Angela, Nick, and Estelle watch his reaction like hawks. Manon listens in, leaning over the sundeck’s railing.
Jamie hovers his hand over the key in mine but takes my fingers and reshapes his fist.
“I can’t.”
A loud thump thuds behind us. Angela’s face contorts as she drops Nick’s suitcase on the dock’s wooden planks.
“So that’s it, eh? The universe brings you une chance and you’re not going to take it?”
“Maman,” Jamie starts. “I can’t do that to Dad or the company. I can’t just up and leave when they’re counting on me to take it over.”
“Your father can take care of his business. Tu es responsable de ta propre vie.”
Jamie shakes his head. “I don’t get it. How did you...” His eyes trail to the key still in my hand.
Angela and I share a quick smile.
“A story for another time,” I say and hold my open palm toward Jamie again. “So?”
Jamie pulls back. Something between a laugh and a scoff tumbles out of my mouth.
“Yes or no. Make a choice, Jamie. You’ve been like this all summer.”
He gives a snarky yet curious grin. “Like what?”
“Oh. Come on. Hot, cold, here, there. One second it’s like you’re my best friend, the next you can’t wait to push me an arm’s length away. For once, I wish you’d be a little decisive, if not about me then about this,” I say, holding the key closer to him.
Encircling the boat, a family of seagulls caw, and a salty breeze sweeps across the harbor, sending the yacht bobbing left to right.
“That is if you care,” I can’t help but add.
Jamie shakes his head, ruffling his hand through his hair, loosening the low bun.
“You think I don’t care? Kat, I’ve been crazy about you since the second I saw you. And sure, at first I was just trying to keep Mum from thinking there was something between us.”
I sink into his emerald irises, butterflies racing through my stomach. The chitter-chatter over the docks has dulled as passersby shift their attention to us.
“I saw myself falling for you, and that bloody effin’ terrified me. I just kept thinking, what if I mess it up like every other relationship in my life?” He pauses to look at his parents on the docks. Nick’s arm is wrapped tightly around Angela’s shoulder. Jamie returns his eyes to me. “Because who says I won’t drive away the best person that’s walked into my life.”
My throat clenches, and tears pool above my lash line. A cheeky smile spreads under my nose. I take his hand as I say, “What happened to c’est la vie?”
Jamie lets out a soft laugh through his nose.
“Isn’t giving it a go, into the unknown, better than the regret of never trying?”
We hold each other in our sights, until Howie honks the yacht horn again.
“Go on, kiss her already!” he hollers.
Smiles push through our cheeks as our lips meld together. The whistles and cheers spread from the immediate group to the travelers swarming the length of the dock, Nick and Angela included. My nerves can only take so much, and Jamie and I eventually separate, but lingering warmth courses through my body.
“Kat,” Jamie says, unraveling my fist and clasping the key. “Merci.”
“I expect the Friends and Family discount,” Nick shouts with a pleased smile.
“You’re really all right with this?”
Angela, Nick, and Estelle join us on the yacht.
“Of course. We want you to. After all, you are a Lavergne... and a Chessley,” Angela says, softly clasping Jamie’s forearm. “Tu es un entrepreneur. And we wouldn’t change one thing about it. We never wanted you to throw your life away, all that ambition inside you. But it’s clear you wouldn’t do that with this chateau.”
“Roger that, son,” Nick affirms. “I for one couldn’t live with myself if I were responsible for stifling my son’s endeavors. We’ve all got our own legacies to leave.”
“Then I’ll make sure to put some pints on ice in your room, Dad.”
Jamie pulls his mom and dad in for the deepest hug the three of them have probably ever shared. Estelle pats me on the back, sharing in my delight.
Howie thumps down the spiral stairs at the rear of the boat and requests me on board for a moment. Jamie nudges his head in his direction, and I give him a cheeky grin.
I take a seat on the cushioned benches toward the stern. Howie leans back.
“You,” he says, wagging his finger. “You, Miss Kat. I haven’t forgotten about you. Oh no.”
He takes my hand and starts shaking it ferociously. My vision board snippet comes to life, and the blush sitting in my cheeks doesn’t fade.
“I know Young Soarers didn’t work out. And truthfully, had I known you would’ve been disqualified for your closeness to me I wouldn’t have been so encouraging. But you know how office politics go.”
I twiddle my fingers. “It’s all right. Really. There are other paths.” A giddiness spurts within me as I consider options that I hadn’t deigned to take seriously before this summer.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
My head snaps up.
“You’ve proven yourself to be no faint heart when it comes to immense responsibility.” He continues on listing my work on Conseils in tandem with au pairing for three kids. “With, let’s be honest, assertive parents,” he says in a hush, but I can feel Angela squinting at us. “All this to say, I’m well-acquainted with many of the Ritz-Carlton executives, and I’m sending your resume and my personal recommendation along to the recruitment team. They’re hiring junior marketing analysts at their corporate headquarters, and given your academic experience, I’m certain they’ll take you in a heartbeat.”
My stomach tenses.
“Really?”
Howie uses ferocious hand gestures to explain the job duties, but my inner voice eventually drowns him out. It’s definitely not what the Young Soarers would be doing. On paper, it’s better. A five-year program that’ll lead straight to a managerial role and a six-figure salary. Part of me thinks someone’s about to give my elbow a pinch and I’ll wake up at any moment. I look over my shoulder at Jamie, who gives a delighted smile. The face of someone who’s about to charge full steam ahead on a dream. I bring my focus back to Howie.
Am I really going to say what I think I am?