Forbidden French

Rain pelts the windows of the villa, the summer storm that was looming over us all morning finally delivering on its promise. Without access to the outdoors, everyone’s convened in the main living room where it’s guest’s choice among all of the activities. There are board games and card games and afternoon tea trays being passed around. Victor plays charades with a lively group.

I came down late after wrapping up two conference calls for work. Lainey was already sitting on the far side of the room, reading a book beside her grandmother, who’s embroidering a handkerchief. She didn’t look up as I walked in, not even when Will called my name from across the room to ask if I’d join him in a game of poker.

She hasn’t looked up at me since. She seems intent on ignoring my existence.

It’s nothing new. She’s been playing hot and cold all week. For the most part, she’s been determined to keep me at arm’s length, though when her guard is down, or perhaps when she forgets she doesn’t want to stay away, she caves. Last night is a testament to that.

I didn’t expect her to come down and join me before my swim. Her visit on the pier caught me off guard, and kissing her was never my goal. She was lying there like some offering from the gods, a temptress I had to taste.

I’d apologize for taking advantage of the situation if only she’d look at me.

This game of avoidance grows boring. I’m not accustomed to having to chase after people’s attention.

I could catch her when she’s alone, bend down and whisper against the shell of her ear, remind her that she kissed me back, that she came to me last night, but it would do no good. She seems to have made up her mind. Our kiss was the final nail in my coffin, and it’s for the best.

I shouldn’t have toyed with her. She’s meant for someone else, and that’s made perfectly clear to me when Royce takes the open seat beside me at the poker table.

“What are we playing?” he asks, looking across at Moretti, one of Victor’s butlers, who’s acting as our dealer.

“Five-card draw.”

“Good. Deal me in for the next round.” He raps his knuckles on the table then looks at me. “I haven’t talked to you much this week, Emmett. How’s your visit been?”

I can’t be sure if his voice holds a slight edge or if I’m only imagining it.

“Fine. And yours?”

“Oh, nothing to complain about. Italy is Italy.”

Will breaks off into a conversation with the man on his right and Royce seizes the moment, clearing his throat before angling slightly toward me.

“I’ve seen you with Elaine throughout the week. I didn’t realize you two were such good friends.”

Moretti starts dealing cards clockwise to each of the four players, keeping them face down. I watch him intently, ignoring Royce so that he’s forced to shift in his seat and try again, this time more directly.

“I’d like to know the nature of your relationship with her.”

“You’ve just said it. We’re friends.”

He leans in, either to try to intimidate me or to keep our conversation private. “Don’t play me for a fool.”

Unfortunately, it’s rather easy to do.

I peer down the bridge of my nose at him. “What would you like to ask me, Royce? And be clear.”

Moretti finishes dealing, and after the first round of bets are placed, he begins the draw phase. We all pick up our hands, and I only discard two cards before I stand pat.

Royce was waiting patiently for me to finish and now hurries to tell me, “I had hopes that Elaine and I would wed.”

“So then…wed.” By now, my tone is acerbic.

“I would like to. She’s well-behaved and kind. Dutiful, too. I like that about her. She’ll make a very good wife.”

Or a very good German Shepherd.

It’s hard to tell the difference from his description.

“I’m trying to ascertain where this conversation will lead…”

He scoffs and leans away. “It’s an advantageous match for the both of us.”

He sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself of something, and if he’s hoping I’ll thump him on the back and congratulate him on his wonderful idea to follow through on this betrothal, he’s sorely mistaken.

“Is it? I find the entire concept archaic.”

He clearly takes offense. “I won’t be dragging her to the altar if that’s what you’re worried about.” His gaze lifts over my shoulder as he looks toward Lainey sitting across the room. His brows tug together in indecision. “At least…I hope not.”

Another round of betting begins and the game continues, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t get our conversation out of my head the rest of the day. I’m not sure who I feel sorrier for, Royce, who seems to want someone who holds absolutely no interest in him, or Lainey, who seems incapable of getting herself out of a situation that will undoubtedly make her miserable in the end.

Later that evening, rather than head down to the dining hall, I choose to take dinner in my room so I can catch up on work I’ve missed throughout the week. I’m grateful to be leaving Italy the day after tomorrow. Every project has been on hold while I’ve been away, and I hate the feeling of being behind. Emails have been pouring in, I have close to a hundred unread text messages on my phone, and I feel the burn of all the fires that will need putting out upon my return to Boston.

I work until late into the night, and then when the house grows quiet and all the guests seem to have gone to bed, I stand, stretch my aching back, and change into my swimsuit so I can head down to the lake.

I don’t expect Lainey to join me again after what happened last night, but there’s always hope. I’d like to apologize to her, or at least check in to see how she’s feeling.

This thing between us has grown complicated. Our forced proximity this week was unusual for a friendship like ours, and perhaps the kiss would have never happened had we not been in Italy.

I’m not clear on what my motives are with her. If Royce had truly pressed me for the nature of my relationship with Lainey, I wouldn’t have been able to give him a solid answer. The truth is, she intrigues me, and it’s been so long since I’ve experienced that feeling about someone that I can’t help but want to act on it, selfish though it may be.

I walk down to the pier and sit in the same spot from last night, and I wait.

Lainey doesn’t come.