Chapter 14
Ben had been calling Charlotte every day while she was in Paris.
She told him about the museums she went to, the parks she discovered, little churches and funny shops.
She walked all over Paris, and felt the magic of the city embrace her.
She didn’t even mind being there alone, but it was nice hearing from him and having long conversations, and he texted her before she went to bed at night.
He was thoughtful and kind, as well as brilliant and funny.
There was something very sweet about the anticipation of seeing him again, and savoring it.
Now that she had decided to see him and take a chance, they could hardly wait.
She was ready to go home. John seemed to have backed off his threats of a lawsuit, and the initial shock of the Vanity Fair article had worn off.
People were still talking about it, but it wasn’t as hot a topic as it had been at first. And no one who knew him was surprised by the contents of the article. It had the authentic ring of truth.
Ben had asked Charlotte several times if he could come over for her last weekend, and fly her home.
She loved the idea and the fact that he wanted to, but it seemed incredibly self-indulgent, and it embarrassed her.
There were a million things she wanted to show him, but it could wait for another time.
She hadn’t seen him in four months by then, which seemed like an eternity to both of them.
They were trying to be careful and wise.
And Ben didn’t want to scare her by moving too quickly.
—
On their second week in St. Barth, John went out with several of the crew to fish, and Isabelle remembered the copy of the magazine she had stuck in her suitcase when they left New York.
She still hadn’t read the article, and she wanted to now, while he was out.
She wanted to know what it said. He hadn’t talked about suing the magazine for several days, but he was still determined to get Charlotte fired.
His attorney had told him that wasn’t going to happen, but John was determined to try.
She had caused him pain and embarrassment and he wanted to get even with her. He was out for revenge.
Isabelle sat in John’s cabin and read the article from beginning to end.
The accusations were ugly, and reading them, she suspected that all or most of them were true.
She had seen sides of him in the past four months that she had never seen before.
She had new respect for Helen, and less for him.
He wasn’t the great guy she had always thought him, and he had no empathy for others.
He was vengeful and cruel in business, self-centered and spoiled with a hot temper in his private life, and his sexual obsession had begun to seem strange.
The part of the article that rattled her particularly was the thinly disguised story of the rape.
The location had been changed, the time of year, the occasion, the school, but the details leapt into her mind as though it had happened yesterday, and as she read it, she knew it was all true and who the victim was.
It was Angela, her daughter. It broke her heart to realize how badly she and Steve had failed her and what she had gone through.
They had believed everything John had told them after he drove her to her house to change, claiming that she was drunk and had fallen down the stairs.
Isabelle still remembered the dazed look on Angela’s face all day.
Isabelle had tears running down her cheeks as she put the magazine back in her suitcase, and she couldn’t stop crying.
She called Charlotte at the magazine and they said she was away.
They said they would ask her permission to give out her cellphone and they texted it to Isabelle immediately, and told her Charlotte was in Paris.
Isabelle didn’t know Charlotte, but she spoke to her as one mother to another.
She thanked her for telling the story and honoring her daughter, validating Angela’s claim, and opening her eyes to what her daughter had been through.
“Could you do me one favor, could you email me the police report, and the one from the hospital? I’d like to read them myself.
” Charlotte had her office send them to her.
When Isabelle read them, she cried again.
She didn’t know how she could have been so blind.
She called Angela and told her how sorry she was that her parents had failed her so totally.
John had been so convincing that they had believed him, and not Angela.
Isabelle said she would never forgive herself for their blindness and stupidity.
She and Steve had believed John beyond reproach then, mistakenly.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Angela said in a gentle voice. She was a mother too. “I’m fine now. Things like that happen. Aaron helped me get through it.”
“Can I come out to see you?” Isabelle asked her humbly. “I just want to put my arms around you and hold you, and tell you how sorry I am and how much I love you.”
“Are you still friends with John?” Angela asked her, sounding tense. “And of course you can come out whenever you want.” She had no regrets about the interview she had given to Charlotte.
“I have been friends with him, but we won’t be friends anymore,” Isabelle said coldly.
“I don’t want to see him again,” Angela said in an emotional tone. The wounds had healed but the scars would be there forever.
—
When John came back to the boat that afternoon, he was very proud of the fish he had caught and went to find Isabelle. She was packing her suitcase, and didn’t turn to look at him. He spoke to her back and couldn’t see her face.
“You’re leaving?” He sounded like a disappointed child. “Is there a problem in New York?” She shook her head and turned to look at him.
“I have to get back. I’m going to L.A.” There was ice in her eyes.
“Did something happen?” He looked shocked. After reading the article, she hated the sight of him, and would forever now. She and Steve had been blind.
“We both know exactly what happened. And I’m going to California to apologize to my daughter for believing you and not her. You’re a liar, John, and a monster. You’re as ruthless as they say you are. How could you do that to her and look me and Steve in the eye? How could you do that, to anyone?”
“You shouldn’t have read the article. It’s all lies. Someone paid them to do that to make me look bad, probably the unions.” He was sticking to his story. She didn’t care.
“You do that all by yourself. I asked the purser to book me a seat on the first flight tomorrow morning. And when I go, I don’t ever want to see you again.
Stay away from me and my daughter, as far away as you can get.
Tell your lies to someone else. I tried to give our relationship a chance.
Gabby is right about you. You have no heart. ”
“Isabelle, I love you,” he said, and she held up a hand to stop him.
“No, you don’t. You don’t know how to love anyone but yourself.
” She put her suitcases in the hall then, and ate dinner and slept in one of the guest cabins, the farthest one from his.
She kept the door locked. He stood on the deck, watching her as she left.
He looked bereft. She couldn’t look at him.
All she could think of was what he had done to Angela, her child.
He stood watching her as the car drove down the quay, and she never looked back. He was dead to her now.
That night, after she flew home, five of John’s ships in dry dock were set on fire and destroyed.
Members of the unions were thought to be responsible.
Revenge for his crimes had been delivered.
Justice had been served. It was only the beginning.
He had the lives of two men and the well-being of the crews of seventeen ships to atone for, and Angela’s pain, and all his past crimes, too many to number, to make up for.
—
By midweek, Ben couldn’t stand the wait any longer and asked Charlotte’s permission to meet her in Paris. It took very little convincing, since she was just as excited to see him.
He flew into Le Bourget airport with the other private planes, and met Charlotte at the Bristol.
They walked all over Paris, and she showed him her favorite places.
They went to a glorious meal at Alain Ducasse, and on the second night they ate at a bistro, which she liked better.
And they still couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
The time apart had brought them closer and deepened their feelings for each other.
The sky was a brilliant cameo blue the whole time Ben was there, for the final days of Charlotte’s stay.
On Sunday, they flew home in his plane after a perfect four days in Paris, which was only the beginning of their adventures together.
There were so many things they wanted to do together, so much to share.
She was ready to take the risk now. However long they had together, she was going to cherish each moment, and he could no longer imagine another woman he would want to be with for the rest of his days.
As the plane made a wide loop and headed west, he kissed her and looked at her with joy in his eyes, mirrored in hers. He had found the woman he had been looking for all his life. She was a woman with integrity, a brilliant mind, and a huge heart.
“You were wrong, Cinderella,” he said softly.
“About what?” she said, happier than she’d ever been.
“The coach doesn’t turn into a pumpkin, it turns into a private plane,” he said, and they both laughed, as they held hands and looked out the window at Paris far below them.
They could see the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs-élysées.
“And don’t forget that you promised to go to the Grand Prix with me in Monaco in May,” he reminded her.
It was only the first stop on their journey with so many great times ahead of them.
They were braver and wiser and stronger, and ready for whatever came next.
She had slain dragons and the force of evil with her article, and all that was left to do now was to embrace all the good waiting for them.
They knew better than anyone how priceless it was and how lucky they were.
He kissed her as the plane gained altitude and they headed home.