Sunset in St. Tropez (7 page)

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Authors: Danielle Steel

BOOK: Sunset in St. Tropez
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But it was a hint at least of the banter and the laughter that had come before, and hadn't been heard now in a month.

“Actually, I'd be willing to honor our commitment, and pay our part. Anne was the one who convinced the rest of you. I don't mind paying our share. I just don't want to go,” Robert said.

“Don't be silly, Robert,” Diana said clearly, as Pascale flashed a look at her.

“Actually, I think that would be very nice,” Pascale spoke up, as the others stared at her. “I"m sure Anne would have wanted you to do that too.” Robert nodded, numbly. In his scrambled state, it sounded reasonable to him. Why should they suffer financially because of her death?

“Tell me how much it is, and I'll send you a check,” he said simply, and the subject of conversation moved on to something else. But even John looked uncomfortable about it when he mentioned it to Pascale after the others left.

“Don't you think that's a little crude, asking Robert to pay for a house he isn't going to use? You say I"m cheap, that little trick seemed awfully French.” His eyes told her that he disapproved of what she'd done, but she looked unembarrassed, as she cleared the glasses they had left.

“If he pays, he'll come, even if he doesn't think so now.” And with that, John smiled at her. She was a very clever girl.

“Do you really think so?” “Wouldn't you?”

“Me?” John laughed at himself. “Hell, if I paid, I'd want to get my money"s worth. But Robert is a little nobler than I am. I don't think he'll come.”

“I do. He doesn't know it yet, but he will. And it will do him a lot of good.” She sounded sure.

 

“If he does, I hope he doesn't bring all his kids, now that she's gone. His grandchildren are so damn noisy, and Susan gets on my nerves.” She got on Pascale's nerves too, and so did his other daughter-in-law, sometimes even Amanda and the grandchildren were loud, but right now, Pascale didn't care.

“It doesn't matter. Let's just hope he'll be there.”

“You know, I"m glad you did that,” John said, looking tenderly at her. “When you said it to him, I almost choked on my coffee. I thought maybe you"ve been living with me for too long,” he admitted with a grin.

“Not long enough,” she said softly, and leaned toward him to give him a kiss. Ever since Anne had died, she was reminded of how much he meant to her, and John had been thinking much the same thing. Despite their frequent differences, they were very lucky, and knew it. Life was short, they had all been reminded, and sometimes very sweet.

4

The group saw Robert for dinner weekly for the next three months, and called him daily for the first two. He was better than he had been, though sad certainly, and he talked about Anne whenever they saw him. But the stories had gone from mournful to funny, and although he still cried sometimes when he talked about her, he was able to smile now too.

And he was very busy at work. He was still talking about selling the apartment, but he had not yet put away her things. When Pascale and John picked him up for dinner there one night, she saw Anne's nightgown in the bathroom, her hairbrush on the dresser, and the hall closet was still full of her coats and boots. But at least he was keeping busy, seeing his children, and he seemed more animated now with his friends.

They were beginning to talk about the summer, and urging him to join them in St Tropez, but he said he had too much work. But just as he had promised, he had sent them his check, to pay for his share of the house in St Tropez.

Robert said he was going to stay in New York that summer instead. It had been four months since Anne's death. He had been busy with her estate, and had set up a charitable foundation in her name, to give money for the causes that meant so much to her, mostly battered women and kids. And he was animated when he spoke of it to them.

“New York in the summer is pretty rough,” Eric said amiably, although he admitted that he might have to cut the trip short as well. He said he had been unusually busy in the office, and one of his partners had been sick for several months. Diana was unhappy about it, but had decided that if Eric left early, she would stay on in France with John and Pascale.

“It's going to be pretty sad with just three of us there if Eric has to leave,” Diana said, looking worried. She had seemed unusually stressed to Pascale for the past month, but she knew Diana was planning a huge event for Sloan-Kettering, and working on it nights and weekends. “Robert, I really think you ought to come. Anne would have wanted you to, and you can bring the kids.”

“We'll see” was all he said. It was the first hopeful sign they'd heard.

“Do you think he will?” they asked each other after he left. He said he had to get to bed early, he had a long day ahead the next day, in court. And he had told them with some amusement that Amanda had asked him to escort her to a black-tie charity event, the premiere of a major film. She and her most recent boyfriend had just broken up, and she didn't have a date. The others had teased him about being glamorous and going to movie premieres, and he said he wasn't looking forward to the party, but he had heard that it was a terrific film.

And he mentioned it when they met again the following week.

“So how was the premiere?” Eric asked him. Eric was looking particularly well, relaxed and happy, despite his long work hours, and sleepless nights covering for his partner, though Diana looked tired and had lost weight. She seemed quieter than usual. And Pascale was concerned, although she didn't mention it to her. They all seemed to worry more about each other now since Anne's death. But they all noticed that Robert was looking better than he had in a long time.

“It was interesting,” he admitted. “There must have been five hundred people there, and the party afterward was a zoo. But I think Mandy had a good time. She met some of the actors, I think she knows one of the producers, and some very good-looking guy in a tuxedo without a tie asked her for a date. I think my services as escort will be dispensed with shortly.” But in the meantime, he was taking her to another event, and Pascale couldn't help wondering if Mandy was being clever about keeping her father entertained. In spite of the fact that he was still obviously sad over Anne, it kept him distracted and amused. And it gave Pascale an idea.

She called Amanda the next morning, and suggested that she come to St Tropez with her father. “It will do him a lot of good.”

“It might,” she said pensively. “I think he's doing better, but he says he can't sleep.” Amanda was worried about him, and Pascale had correctly guessed that Mandy was doing everything she could to keep him occupied. “He actually did pretty well at the premiere we went to last week. He won't admit it, but I think he had fun. I lost track of him after a while. He circulated pretty well on his own.”

 

“Well, see what you can do about St Tropez,” Pascale suggested. “I think that would do him good too.”

“Yeah,” Mandy laughed, “and me too. Dad said the house comes with a boat. He said the pictures were gorgeous. It sounds like a great trip. I'd love to come.”

“We have lots of room for you, and we'd love it,” Pascale said warmly, and Amanda said she would see what she could do.

But the following week when they were scheduled to have dinner with Robert, he canceled, and said he had too much work to do. In the end, it was just as well, as Eric had to deliver three babies that night and would have had to miss dinner, and Pascale came down with the flu.

She was still feeling woozy when Diana called her, and said she had something to tell Pascale that would knock her off her feet.

“You"re pregnant!” Pascale said with a tone of envy, and Diana laughed.

“I sure hope not. If I am, the hormones I"ve been taking work better than I think.” She had gone through change of life two years before. For Diana, pregnancy was no longer an option, and it never had been for Pascale. “No, but it's almost as amazing as that. I had dinner with Samantha last night, after you all canceled and Eric had to work. We went to the Mezza Luna, or at least we were going to. We sneaked off somewhere else after we got there, but who do you think was there?”

“I don't know … Tom Cruise, and he asked you for a date.”

“Damn close. Robert. He was having dinner with a woman. And he was laughing and smiling. I didn't recognize the woman, but Sam did. You"re not going to believe this. It was Gwen Thomas.”

“The actress?” Pascale sounded as though she'd been hit by a bomb, and she had. “Are you sure?”

“No. But it looked like her. Sam was sure that was who it was.” She was beautiful, and young, and had looked deeply engrossed in conversation with him. And he looked very happy with her.

“How do you suppose he knows her?” He had never mentioned her before. Nor had he mentioned having dinner with women in the months since Anne's death. Pascale couldn't help wondering if this was a first for him. It had to be.

“Isn't she the star of the movie he saw with Mandy last week?” Diana inquired.

“I think so,” Pascale said, sinking back onto her pillows again, staring pensively into space. “God, how stupid if he starts going out with actresses and starlets and models. He's so vulnerable, and so naive in a way. He and Anne were married forever. He knows nothing about that world. Anne always said he had hardly dated before they met. He certainly knows nothing about the dating scene.” Nor did any of them. They had all been married for so many years.

“No, he doesn't,” Diana agreed with her completely, and vowed silently to protect him, for Anne's sake, and his own. She'd have expected it of them. He seemed the last person in the world to be going out with a famous actress or anyone at this point. It seemed impossible to imagine him with anyone but Anne.

“How old is she?” Pascale sounded genuinely worried, fearing that Diana would say she was twenty-two, but she knew she was older than that. She was a very beautiful woman, and had recently been enjoying a huge success. She had won an Oscar the previous year.

“I think she's in her late thirties, maybe forty. She doesn't look it though. She looks Sam's age.”

“How stupid of him. He's way out of his league, if he starts going out with women like that. Did they look amorous?”

“No,” Diana said fairly, “they didn't. They looked like friends,” she said, sounding slightly relieved.

“I wonder how he met her.” “Maybe at the premiere.”

The two women talked for the better part of an hour, about the dangers and the pitfalls and the traps that would be set for their friend, and they vowed to give him a lecture when the opportunity presented itself. It seemed more important than ever now to get him to St Tropez.

“I wonder if Mandy knows he went out with her, or even that he met her,” Diana pondered.

“She said she lost track of him at the premiere,” Pascale volunteered. “I'll invite him for dinner next week, and see if he says anything about her. Maybe we should ask him. Did he see you?”

“No,” Diana admitted, “I was so shocked, we literally ran away. I didn't want to intrude. And in a way, I guess it's a good thing he's getting out and seeing women. But I just don't want him to get hurt.” Imagining him in the clutches of a movie star terrified them both.

“Absolutely,” Pascale agreed. “There are lots of nice women we all know and can introduce him to, if he's ready. I just didn't think he was.” It had come as a huge surprise to both of them.

And Pascale was relieved when he agreed to meet them for dinner the next week. He sounded normal, and as solemn as ever, when she called him in his office at the court.

 

Much to everyone's surprise, when they had dinner, he mentioned meeting Gwen.

“Who is she?” John looked blank when Robert said it, and both women were carefully studying his face to see if it meant anything to him.

“She won an Oscar,” Pascale said to her husband, with a look of contempt. “Everyone knows who she is. She's very pretty,” and then she turned to Robert. “How did you meet her?”

“With Mandy at a film premiere,” Robert said innocently as Pascale and Diana's eyes met. It was exactly what they'd thought. “She's an interesting woman. She lived in England for a long time, and did Shakespeare. And then she worked on Broadway before she got into movies. She's very levelheaded, and well read.” Diana looked worried as she listened, and Pascale's eyes narrowed with suspicion instantly.

“You know a lot about her,” she said casually, as John shot her a look.

“What does she look like?” John asked with growing interest, wondering exactly what she meant to him, or if they'd gone to bed.

“She's attractive,” Robert said without any particular passion. “She has red hair. She's divorced.” Pascale gulped.

“How old is she?” Diana asked calmly.

“Forty-one,” he said, eating his dinner. Their guesses had been correct. “She's been living in California, and she just moved back to New York. She seems kind of lonely. She doesn't know anyone here.” Pascale and Diana were certain that was just a ploy to reel him in.

“Are you going to see her again?” Pascale couldn't resist asking, with a look of innocence.

“I don't know,” he said vaguely, “she's busy. So am I. She's starting another movie in September, and she's going to travel this summer with friends. I think Anne would have liked her,” he said calmly, smiling at his friends. He hadn't an inkling of the turmoil in the two women's minds. They concealed it well, from him at least.

“Robert,” Diana said cautiously, not sure where to start, “you have to be careful. There are a lot of very manipulative, very artful women out there. You haven't been out in the big bad dating world in a long time.” She adopted a sisterly tone for her brief speech, and he smiled.

“And I"m not „dating" now,” he said, looking her in the eye. “She's just a friend.” What he said ended the conversation, and after they went their separate ways after dinner, Eric told Diana that she'd been out of line.

“He's a big boy. He has a right to do what he wants. And if he can snag some movie star for his first date, more power to him.” Eric looked both admiring and amused.

“He doesn't know what he's doing,” Diana insisted. “God only knows what kind of barracuda that girl is. He didn't even mention if she had kids.”

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