A Jewel in the Sun

CHAPTER ONE

“
Find out who she is and report to me as soon as possible!” The man behind the desk was obviously in an intensely angry mood. He prided himself on being in control of things, situation and of course people. Very little went on around him that he was unaware of. He was the CEO of one of the most successful publishing company in France –
Sabienne’s
Publishing
. Infor
mation had to be
accessible,
it was
just a matter of brandishing the right key.

He sighed and rubbed his neck. He was tired, but there was always something to do. He was the only one to do it. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the cherry colored mahogany desk. He stood abruptly upsetting the paper weight on his desk. He had to know. It had plagued him for more than twenty years now. He had just returned
from home from
borden
school
and
had
entered his father’s office without knocking.

His father who was not openly expressive was in an intimate embrace with one of the most beautiful women that he had ever seen. The woman was tall, slender and almost ethereal.
It was difficult to ascertain her age.
Her skin was tanned a golden hue that
was a little darker than her hai
r. Her eyes wer
e a startling golden color that
was emphasized by the long lush darker eye lashes. Although she had the most adorable dimples and a killer body, it was the drenching sadness in his eyes that mesmerized him more than anything. They had a sad and bruised look. He had been so fascinated by them, that he had almost missed
the strangely tender look on his father’s
craggy, handsome face.

He remembered referring to the event but his father brushed it aside impatiently. He had forgotten about it. Now he wondered if it was connected to this mystery shareholder. His father had been a very attractive man with a very stern outlook on life. He knew that there were many women who had found him attractive, if he was advantaged by it, it never showed. He always treated his wife,
Ga
s
tron’s
mere with great affection and respect. Image was everything.

Gastron
had been his apprentice, except that years in the United States had exposed
Gastron
to other cultures. It had given him another perspective from which to view his country and the norms
..
He took the best from both cultures and had applied it. Although he clung to some traditions, he prided himself on being a paragon of mystery. More important, this application of lessons learned had enabled
Ettiene’s
Pubishing
to be one of the most prestigious publishing firms, the world over.

Although Gaston
was
known for his ruthlessness in business,
even his enemies could not deny that he was a fair man. He was a man who allowed nothing and no one to get in his way.
His enemies hated h
im, many wanted to be like him and
women loved him. His charm was lethal, yet they always knew the score.

Gastron
was the only surviving son of his mother. His father,
Gast
r
on
II was killed six years ago on his was back home
in his private jet. The result
of the investigations was inconclusive. Some suspected engine
failure,
others thought that it was
the result of too much chardonnay
. By the time his son had taken over the company, it was almost bankrupt with thirty-nine percent of its shares being owned by an unknown. A legal representative was the liaison.
Gastron
suspected that this person
may be the link
to the inconclusive report
on the investigation. It was also the reason for his ire
and the reason why he had top
notch investigation firms on the matter.

When he didn’t get his way, others bore the result of his wrath – an awesome sight to behold. He was notorious for his temper, but also for his silent, ice control.
Gastron
was also a very private person. His thoughts were his own. He often baffled others during his weaning years with his loneness and his fiercely independent ways. Few knew him, fewer still, understood him. It was his way and his mother, Cecile was content to allow him to care for her without input, even though she doted on him and
he
, on her.

A stickler for traditions, his family and
all of its
mandate rested on his shoulder. It was a responsibility that he took very seriously. Ever since his assumption of the reigns of the publishing company, it has quadrupled in profits as well as not only did it span all of Europe but it was almost a household name in the Americas and the South Pacific
sea
. In addition, its focus had expanded to coffee houses.

He was completing the last of his quarterly report when the phone to his private line rang. He picked it up with a feeling of abode. As he listened to the message being relayed, there was no visible change in his intensely brooding expression.  The only sign to indicate the weight of the message was the tick and the clenching of his jaw. He rested the phone down abruptly and slammed his fist down on the desk.

Gastron
hit the intercom, instructed his secretary to make the arrangement for his trip. The
secretary  see
the familiar brewing of the infamous temper knew to thread softly. There were some calls that
were not to be left up to his PA. He called his mere, wait for her to
finished
her tirade and then
Gastron
calmly told her that he would be out of the country. He
wouldn’t  be
the perceptive man he was if he hadn’t heard the hitch in her breath. However, his mind was to other –centered. The hour that it took for the chauffer to maneuver his way through the traffic to Charles De Gaulle Airport was lost on Gastronomy as he plotted the trap for his unsuspecting nemesis.

Promising to be in contact, Gastronomy strode purposely toward the checking in counter oblivious to the females that inclined themselves in his path as well as the not so subtle of the counter agent. So focused was he on the questions circulating in his head, he almost did not hear the sound of his cellular.

“
Alo
”, he said abruptly.

“
Oui
,
c’est
Jules at je
cannais
il
long temp, main nous
avez
vrai
dans
location 
counia
. Nous
avez
il
dossier.
Je vas
vous
il
toude
suite.”

The conversation ended abruptly.
Gastron
open his brief case attached the portable print

CHAPTER TWO

She didn’t want to wake up. It was hard to open one’s eyes to the reality of loss.
It seemed as if the lids of the eyes were to remain closed, then ugly realities would be kept at bay.
It was easier to pretend that it had neve
r occurred. Even with eyes shut
, the tears seeped out of her closed lids and soaked the pill
ow.
Azolee
had no one to help share
the pain, no one who would understand.
This
excrutiating
pain was private and it was overwhelming in its completeness. No bandage or medicinal could be applied. It had to run its course, only made had a chance at being the healer.
She understood that life was like this.
She had lost her best friend and closest
‘
relative
’
Nana.
Nana had taken her over and had treated as her own daughter. Now Nana was gone and s
he was alone in the world.

Nana.
Her
Nana.
Nana whose name she later learned was Anna Marie, formerly of
Gelle
France had finally succumbed to a
cardiocvascular
cancer that according to doctors, should have taken her life thirty years ago. Nana, still beautiful in her
latter
years, struck a tall,
gaunt, fragile, yet
elegant figure. Her fine boned structure and lightly lined skin were a product of excellent genes and an abundant love of life. This still beautiful woman had been the nearest thing that she had to a mother, after her own mother had died while
Azolee
was just two years. She barely remembered the woman who had been Nana’s house keeper and friend.

It had been Nana who had given her a love for all things natural. She
absolutely
loved the aqua blue ocean that surrounded these islands. Daily she would wake up around five thirty to welcome the rooster’s crow and later the beautiful sunrise whose rays would warm and later tan her already golden
skin. Her knowledge of
indigenous
plants and
animals
and her instinctive way with them
were a gift handed down from Nana.

Losing Nana was like losing the sun. Life held no meaning. Reluctantly,
Azolee
rose from the bed. Her long, loose limbs were graceful and beautifully tanned. She hadn’t wanted to watch the sunrise since losing Nana. She hardly ever ate and it was reflected in her fragile, fine boned structure. Her body was beautifully slender and curvaceous with full bre
ast above a tiny waist. Her limbs
was well honed, compliments of daily walks, swims and snorkeling. When she wasn’t enjoying life,
Azolee
was busy collecting samples and assembling notes to compile for her
desertion. She had a last chapter to write, but her motivation level was so low.
Azolee
quickly ran her fingers through her
long
unruly crinkly curls, twisted into a bob and headed for the shower.

Later, dressed in a beach wrap and tank top, she grabbed the keys to the
suzuki
jeep. She needed to contact her lawyer, fax reports and pick up some food items. She drove
the fifteen minutes to the Emerald Bay
Marina, conducted her business and was pulling out of the port when a low slung rental swerved carelessly into the adjacent slot. She shot the offender a glare and pulled out abruptly in a cloud of dust. “Tourists!” she grumbled, “they are so condescending of the
islands’
traffic
laws.” She knew that her surliness was misplaced.
Maybe anger would cause her to focus less on the pain.

Her
last stop was the post office. Sh
e collected her package and was strolling toward the vehicle when her eyes
were
caught
by
the envelope. It was an envelope addressed to Ms.
Azolee
Marie. The contents of the letter stated that she was to call
the local
law
firm
, Gibson Rigby and Co.
and even gave her contact person. The reason was to discuss the estate of the late Ana Marie estate.
Azolee
allowed for the lifting of her heart
shaped lips into a sweet sad smile. Nana loved the beach cottage so much that she had refused to sell it even after it became too expensive to maintain. She closed her eyes, loving the memory of Nana, before her eyes started to fill with tear. “I love you”, she whispered painfully.

This was not time for weeping, Nana hadn’t wanted it.
Azolee
quickly blinked away the tears and drove along to the store to pick up her staples. She met some faces and after saying the appropriate hello
s in response to the “morning
dahlin
’ ” or “hey
sweety
”, she strode back to the vehicle oblivious to everything except her need to find solace. It was not only the pain of losing Nana, it was the combination of seeing families shopping that emphasized how much she had lost. There were no close friends or even a possible date. It had all been by design. She was a loner and had only time for her hobby. Being awarded scholarships, meant that she met persons she loosely associated with, but spent her breaks and summers with Nana, doing the things she loved. She loved to listen to Nana talk of life in France. As she grew older, she realized that although Nana talked of gay times and parties, there was always a deep seated sadness, a shadow and a pall that would come over her.

Azolee
finished putting
the groceries away, changed in to a bathing suit and dashed out into to the clear turquoise water. She made laps and laps until she was tired. No one saw the pain, the lon
e
liness. Any onlookers only saw – a beautiful golden
mermaid enjoying the water. As usual, a family of bottle nosed dolphins came by and they flirted with
Azolee
. As if sensing her pain, the calf one nosed her softly. He kept coming from directions swimming around
and leaping as if wanting to lift her spirits. Nana had always marveled at
Azolee’s
affinity with animals.