to the main deck.
Maxence was laughing at Casimir’s ongoing diatribe. “I wasn’t in any danger!”
Casimir continued quarreling with Max as the yacht pitched under their feet. “Estebe Fournier wants to cut off your head and drop it overboard for the sharks! You are most certainly in danger!”
“In a week, he’ll forget all about who gave Simone a ride to the airport and go back to screwing his cabin staff. Estebe’s always had the attention span of a hyperactive Chihuahua.”
Arthur reached the top of the staircase but didn’t stop walking. He shoved past Casimir and advanced on Max.
Gen suspected that her husband wasn’t going to be able to keep it British. Arthur put on an excellent veneer of a calm and slightly bored English lord, but he was a deeply emotional man under it all.
Arthur grabbed Maxence around his neck fiercely, practically clamping him in a headlock.
Directly after dangerous situations, staunchly English Arthur became—gasp—a hugger.
Maxence’s dark eyes bulged in surprise.
Gen stood back, smiling, and watched her husband squeeze his eyes shut and whisper angrily to Maxence, “You’d better never do this ever again, you gormless twatwaffle.”
Maxence clapped his arms around Arthur’s shoulders. “I won’t. I didn’t know Pierre was going to call you guys. He usually doesn’t care if I’m incommunicado for months.”
Arthur broke off and shoved Maxence back, stalking away to stand beside Gen. He stared at the sea behind them as Flirting with Disaster accelerated to a faster cruising speed, though not all the way to the breakneck rate at which they’d traveled to Genoa.
Gen very quietly moved her hand, tangling her fingers with her husband’s.
Arthur gripped her hand tightly and continued to stare at the sea and sky, his face impassive, as he composed himself.
Slowing down for a few minutes and the boat’s current, more sedate pace calmed her stomach a bit. If she drank some ginger ale now, Gen might survive this without blowing chunks. She announced, “Come on, folks. It gets windy on the decks when this boat gets up to speed. Let’s go down and have a drink before we get back to Monaco.”
In one of the lounging areas on a lower deck, where the entire back wall was an enormous window that overlooked the yacht’s wake, they settled on long couches.
The staff handed them drinks. Gen asked for a ginger ale, which wasn’t as good as Issouf’s pregnancy tea but still hit the spot.
When they had all taken a breath or two, Gen asked them, “Should we be going back to Monaco?”
Casimir waved a finger around them, indicating the yacht. “I think Xan would be pissed if I kept his boat.”
“Xan?” Maxence asked, looking up from his triple scotch. “This is Alexandre’s yacht? I thought I recognized it.”
“Yeah, he’s a client of mine,” Casimir said, sipping a cocktail.
Max nodded. “Oh, yeah. Intellectual property rights.”
They weren’t talking about the obvious thing Gen needed them to discuss. She announced, “Let me put it another way. I don’t think Maxence should go back to Monaco.”
The others pondered this for a moment.
Maxence said, “Nothing’s going to happen. I’m only staying for another week, anyway.”
“I don’t think you should go there at all,” Gen said. “Between Estebe and Pierre, you have a problem.”
Maxence stared into his scotch, a frown gathering. “Yeah.”
“Maybe you should go to Paris,” Gen suggested. “Arthur and I will be in Paris for a while. We can hang out.”
Arthur cleared his throat.
“Yes?” Gen asked him.
Arthur said, “We’re needed at home.”
Enough said. “Well then, I guess we’ll be heading back to the UK. Maybe you could go to Amsterdam with Roxanne and Caz?”
Casimir nodded, but Roxanne shook her head. “I got a text from our office a few hours ago. They got swamped, Cash. We need to get back to Los Angeles.”
Maxence turned his tumbler in his palm. “I think I could probably go to Paris, anyway. I can get lost in Paris. You’re right. Monaco isn’t the place for me right now.”
Casimir stood. “I’ll talk to the captain about taking us up to Nice instead of to Monaco. My plane is still there.” He walked off.
Roxanne puttered after him, “Hey, wait. Take a look at this brief.”
Gen should take a look at her clerk’s emails soon.
Ah, back to normal life for the four of them, then.
Maxence stood, still contemplating his drink. “I need to make a phone call or two while we’ve still got cellular signal. I’ll be back in a moment.” He walked toward the deck, and his phone chimed as he turned it on.
Good