The Affair - Danielle Steel Page 0,55

to her office, and left the girls with their babysitter, and that night they showed her all the things they wanted to take with them to L.A., their favorite shorts and T-shirts, Laure’s light-up sneakers, and Sylvie’s sneakers that she said were “cool.” Nadia packed for all three of them and the girls were excited about the trip.

Nicolas called them the next morning. Nadia was too busy to talk to him, and he wished the girls a wonderful time in the States. They promised to FaceTime with him while they were away, a miracle of modern technology which allowed them to show him everything and see each other while they talked. He was disappointed not to speak to Nadia before they left. Their weekend together had made him miss her more, and he’d been irritable with Pascale when he got back, but was really only angry with himself. He had created the hell he and Nadia were living in.

Nadia and the girls left for the airport in a flurry of activity, and were right on time. Nadia sat back in the van, trying to figure out if she had forgotten to pack anything, although it was too late now. But everything was in order and she had made careful lists. She put an arm around each of her daughters with a smile.

“We’re off to our big adventure. Aunt Athena says she can’t wait to see us,” Nadia said, feeling liberated to finally be free of Nicolas lurking around them like a ghost. He had looked miserable when he left them the day before, and she didn’t want to think about it. This was her time with the girls, and she didn’t want anything to spoil it.

“I can’t wait to see Aunt Athena’s dogs,” Laure said happily. “I love Hugo…and Juanita and Chiquita, and Stanley.” She went down the list of dogs, while Sylvie sent another text to her father and told him how much she wished he was there with them. He responded immediately.

“Me too.” He had told her he had to get back to work on his new book. Sylvie thought it was too bad that he couldn’t take a vacation with them, but at least they’d had the Bastille Day weekend with him. It had been perfect, from her point of view, with her mother and father together. They were both nervous and in bad moods lately, but probably things would be better when they got back. She hoped so anyway. She had asked her father about it, and he had promised they would never get divorced. And she knew he never lied to them.

* * *

—

“You look incredible,” Nicolas said, standing in the doorway of their bedroom in the rented house in Ramatuelle. It was tropical and luxurious, with lovely gardens and an enormous pool. Pascale was wearing the white lace dress she had bought for the interview. You could see her belly clearly through it. She was wearing her bikini bottom but not the top under it. Her breasts were huge and full from the pregnancy. Her arms and legs were slim, her face was lovelier than ever, and her long white-blond curls looked like a halo that framed her face, with the rest of her hair piled on her head. She looked more womanly and less like a young girl with her pregnant belly, and she was every bit as sexy as he said, definitely not like a madonna, as she stretched her long legs out on a chaise longue under a large beach umbrella next to the pool. A waiter with a starched white jacket who had come with the house served her a tall glass of lemonade. There was a splash of gin in it, which Nicolas didn’t know.

He was wearing shorts, Hermès sandals, and a white linen shirt. They looked like some kind of ad for yacht owners, or people who had tons of money. They appeared to have it all. Nicolas was less nervous than he’d been the day before, when he’d arrived, and had settled down. Pascale had sensed his dark mood as soon as he walked in, had lured him into bed, and cheered him up considerably. He said she had magic powers over him. She bewitched him.

A few minutes after Pascale installed herself on the chaise longue, the house man escorted two people out to the pool, a small woman in jeans and a T-shirt, with dark hair in a braid down her back, holding a