yet. She turned her head to look at him with a sleepy smile and he leaned down and kissed her.
“Do you want to go down to the boat for a while?” he asked her, and she nodded. She put her top back on, and he drove her to the port in a Ferrari. When they got there, his yacht was nestled among several others, and they were welcomed aboard by the crew. They took off for a little while and enjoyed the sun and the breeze on deck.
“I can never decide where I want to be when I’m here, at the house or on the boat. I love this boat.” He was an expert sailor, and they sailed for a while, and then slowly came back to the port in a light wind. Every moment she shared with him was perfect. She couldn’t imagine real life intruding on them. She would have loved to have Bethanie with her, but these were adult moments that weren’t meant for children. His life was entirely geared to adults in a life of supreme luxury. She was being cared for like a child, without a care in the world. In Charlie’s world, one felt totally safe and protected and shielded from anything unpleasant.
As she sat at the rail, she had a pang again, thinking of Sam, and how real his life was right now, how real hers had been at various times and how painful. Even Charlie couldn’t prevent bad things from happening, like what had happened to her parents, or Bethanie getting sick. The safety of Charlie’s world was an illusion. He was as vulnerable as everyone else. He just didn’t know it, and protected himself well, and her.
When they got back to the house, she bathed and changed for dinner. She was going to wear the white silk Chanel that night, which seemed appropriate. As she brushed her dark hair, she met her own eyes in the mirror, and knew what she was doing. She was hiding, and chasing the fairy tale again. It was the flash in all its glory. And all of a sudden she knew where she wanted to be and with whom. All she didn’t know was why she hadn’t figured it out sooner, or how he’d feel about it.
She put her brush down and turned away from the mirror. She wanted to call Bethanie, but she didn’t want to upset her if she was having fun. And she wanted to call Sam, and he was very definitely not having fun. He wasn’t on a yacht or a tropical island. He was probably cleaning up after his kids, with no nanny on the weekend. With luck, no one had an earache or diarrhea.
She took her white silk dress off, folded it, and put it back into the suitcase. She put on the white jeans she’d brought with a white T-shirt and white ballet flats, packed the rest of her things, and walked out to find Charlie in the living room. He was waiting for her with another bottle of Cristal in a silver bucket and two chilled champagne flutes.
He looked surprised but not displeased by what she was wearing. He had been thinking about what lay ahead for them later that night, and so had she, and she knew she couldn’t do it. She had to be honest with him, and herself.
She looked apologetic as she approached him, but she had awoken from her stupor, and she was wide-awake now. The luxurious fumes of his life had inebriated her for weeks. But now she was stone cold sober.
“Charlie, I know this will sound crazy, but I have to go home.” She sounded calm and serious and no longer playful.
“Did something happen to your daughter?” He was instantly sympathetic. “Did they call you from home?” He knew how sick she had been before.
“She’s fine. But I’m not. I shouldn’t be here. I know better. This is what I do. I get caught up in someone else’s fairy tale, and try to live their dream with them. This is your dream, not mine. My dream includes a little girl who gets sick, very sick last year, and cries, and gets chocolate ice cream all over my jeans, and a job I love, which isn’t glamorous, but I have fun doing it, and people you probably wouldn’t even want to know. This is your reality, not mine. I need to go home.” She was the first woman who