Page 10 of Meet Me at Sunset

Stephanie Moon’s long copper hair shimmered like gold in the sunlight, whipping around her face as the white speedboat bounced over the Mediterranean waves. The sun was high overhead but the wind was deliciously cooling as they sped along, so fast they skated over the water’s surface.

Standing at the prow, with flecks of saltwater beading her skin, Stephanie felt a burst of adrenaline. She turned to look at Paulo who was driving the boat; it was hard to hear anything over the noise of the engine, and the roar of the wind and the waves, and he had to shout to be heard.

‘Scream if you want to go faster,’ he yelled, and Stephanie threw back her head and whooped with joy.

In that moment, she felt wild and free, as though she was truly living.

Until recently, she’d felt as if she was still waiting for her life to start.

But now it felt sped up, as Paulo pushed the throttle and the boat skipped through the deep blue of the Balearic Sea.

To her left, she could see the coastline in the distance, a wild tangle of rocky cliffs and hidden coves, with sprawling villas high on the bluffs.

To the right, nothing but the distant horizon.

‘Do you want to drive?’ Paulo suggested.

Stephanie didn’t need to be asked twice. She eagerly left her spot at the front of the boat and scrambled over to the helm, taking over from Paulo, feeling the power of the boat and how it responded to the slightest touch.

Paulo grinned at her, and Stephanie smiled back happily.

She was dressed in a casual strappy sundress and leather sandals from the market.

She wasn’t trying to impress Paulo – she still didn’t know if she was interested in him, but she sensed he could be a lot of fun.

And he was attractive, dressed in shorts and a polo shirt teamed with designer sunglasses.

He caught her looking at him and moved closer.

Standing behind her, he put his hand over hers as she steered; his was large and tanned, a contrast with her slender fingers and her hot pink manicure.

Slowly, he pulled on the throttle and slowed the boat down.

His body was almost touching hers, and Stephanie felt a frisson of excitement and uncertainty – she barely knew this guy, and now they were all alone, in the middle of the Mediterranean.

Paulo killed the engine. The silence was stark, only the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull, as they drifted beneath an endless expanse of sky that mirrored the perfect sapphire blue of the water.

‘That was quite a thrill,’ Stephanie commented with a raised eyebrow.

‘I knew you’d enjoy it. You look like someone who goes looking for thrills. I read in one of the papers yesterday that you are difficult, fiery. I heard they threw you off the set of your movie? Is that true?’

Stephanie bristled, and was also alarmed that there was industry talk about what had happened on set, and it was leaking out to the press. Her stomach tightened. ‘You can’t believe everything you read in the papers.’

‘What are you doing in Mallorca, then? Not that I’m complaining.

I like a woman with fire in her belly.’ Was it fire in her belly, or something darker?

Stephanie was still discovering who she was, but she was sure Paulo was too self-absorbed to be truly interested in her, so she pushed down her anxiety.

‘So what now? Do we swim to shore?’ she teased, turning to look at Mallorca in the distance. It had to be at least a kilometre away.

Paulo laughed easily. ‘No. Unless you want to escape from me?’

Stephanie smiled slowly. ‘Not yet.’

‘In that case …’ Paulo crouched down and pulled a cool box from the small storage area inside the boat.

‘Lunch,’ he announced with a flourish, taking off the lid and bringing out half a dozen plates with delicious-looking food: fresh bread with olive oil and tomatoes, slices of cured ham and chorizo, three different kinds of salad, Padrón peppers laced with salt, and thick slices of cold tortilla.

‘This looks amazing,’ Stephanie exclaimed. But there was something about it that seemed familiar. ‘Wait, is this—?’

‘Il Paradiso’s finest. Hand-prepared by my head chef this morning.’

‘You had Lucas prepare a picnic for us?’

‘Yeah,’ Paulo smirked. He watched her face as he picked up a juicy, garlicky prawn and bit into it. ‘Is that a problem?’

There was something challenging in his tone.

She remembered the connection she’d had with Lucas, and how much she’d enjoyed talking to him.

She realized she didn’t want him to think that she and Paulo were seeing one another, let alone be forced into doing the catering for their date.

But Paulo had said that Lucas had a serious girlfriend, and Lucas hadn’t denied it, so Stephanie should probably put him out of her mind.

‘No,’ she replied evenly. ‘Why would it be?’

Paulo shrugged. ‘I figure I’m the one busting my ass to make the restaurant a success. Lucas needs to pull his weight too.’

Stephanie mulled on his words as she speared a forkful of tuna salad, thinking that Lucas definitely looked to her like he was working his butt off in the kitchen. The food was delicious. ‘So how do you two know one another?’

‘We’ve been friends since we were kids,’ Paulo explained.

‘He used to come and stay on the island in the summer. Because his parents were always away, always hustling to build their precious business, so he used to spend the school holidays with his grandmother in her villa. I was the poor kid down the road. You know, things like that don’t matter when you’re young – you just want to play, you don’t care about how much money someone has.

It’s only as you grow up that you notice the difference. ’

‘But you’re doing OK for yourself now,’ Stephanie said, noticing the Rolex on his wrist, the designer labels on his clothes.

‘I worked hard to make something of myself. I didn’t have anything handed to me on a plate,’ Paulo said, unable to hide the trace of bitterness in his voice.

‘Lucas has had a hard time too,’ Stephanie said, as she took a bottle opener and flipped the lid off a bottle of Mahou beer. It was ice cold and perfect. She noticed that Paulo – or perhaps Lucas – had packed a bottle of cava too. ‘The accident,’ she clarified, opening a beer for Paulo too.

Paulo’s face changed imperceptibly, a muscle in his jaw twitching. ‘Yeah … The accident .’ The word seemed loaded, but Stephanie couldn’t read his meaning. ‘He’s certainly done well since. Maman felt so guilty about everything that she bought him a restaurant.’

‘Camille paid for Il Paradiso?’ Stephanie was surprised.

‘Yeah. She set him up with everything, paid the first year’s rent on the building … She’s supposed to be a silent partner – not silent enough for my liking. Why are you so surprised? Like I said, Lucas gets everything he wants handed to him on a silver platter.’

Stephanie fell quiet, taking another sip of beer. It was obvious that Paulo was jealous of Lucas, for the advantages he’d had in life, and she was intrigued by their relationship. She knew she had to tread carefully, but if she was clever she could flatter him into revealing more.

‘So what’s your role in the business? I mean, if Lucas is doing the cooking, then—’

‘Everything else,’ Paulo interrupted. ‘You name it, I do it. The marketing, the PR, the finances, dealing with suppliers, with staffing, with front of house. I dealt with the contractors and the team when we did the fit-out. When we were behind schedule for opening night, it was my family who came in and worked round the clock to ensure everything was finished. I’ve poured blood, sweat and tears into Il Paradiso, and no one can take that away from me …

’ He trailed off, and Stephanie noticed how a muscle in his cheek twitched as he glowered into the distance.

Then he seemed to catch himself. ‘But let’s not talk about business today.

Let’s talk about you. You fascinate me, Stephanie Moon.

You’re beautiful, talented, intelligent …

’ He tilted his head to look at her, and Stephanie felt herself blush beneath his scrutiny.

‘I’m just enjoying the ride, seeing where life takes me, and—’

She was interrupted by the tinny tune from a mobile phone. Paulo pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. ‘Sorry, I need to take this.’

He stood up and answered the call, turning away from her and walking swiftly to the back of the boat.

The vessel was only small, but from his body language it was clear that he wanted the call to stay private.

He spoke in a rapid, low stream of Spanish.

Stephanie could pick out the occasional word – ‘ Palma ’, ‘ noche ’ – but understood very little.

She watched him as he spoke, his back broad, his skin tanned, his manner cocky.

He was definitely a bad boy, but there was something appealing about him and Stephanie wasn’t immune to his charm.

She liked the way he flirted so openly, the way his eyes teased when he looked at her.

He let out a peel of throaty laughter, followed by a final burst of Spanish before ending his call.

‘Sorry about that,’ Paulo apologized, as he strolled back to where she was sitting.

‘Just a bit of business. Now, where were we?’ he asked, as he picked up his beer and clinked it against hers.

‘Oh yes, you were going to tell me everything there is to know about the captivating Stephanie Moon. And I mean everything .’

Stephanie burst out laughing, unable to help herself. Paulo clearly spelt trouble, but he could certainly make the next couple of weeks a lot more interesting.

Nicolas Martin swore lightly under his breath as the limousine inched forwards, and the air around him was filled with the noise of dozens of car horns, as angry drivers vented their frustration at the New York traffic.

Vehicles had ground to a halt on the George Washington Bridge – which at least afforded him a good view of the city – but he was in a hurry to make his flight, and anxiously checked his wristwatch.

Nicolas was heading for Teterboro Airport, just across the Hudson in New Jersey. Whilst he knew his private jet wouldn’t leave without him, he was eager to get going, impatient to begin his journey now that he’d decided on a course of action.

He wasn’t going to give up on Camille, and he refused to let her simply walk out of his life.

They’d known one another for so long now that it was impossible to imagine never seeing her again.

It had been hard enough not to be in contact these last few days, which was probably the longest they’d gone without speaking in more than twenty years.

Nicolas had lost count of the number of times he’d gone to pick up the phone to call her, before remembering his resolution and hanging up.

Nicolas’s heart ached without Camille. He was barely eating, struggling to sleep, and he’d uncharacteristically completely lost interest in his work. He couldn’t go on like this – which was why he was heading to Mallorca.

The plan had always been for Nicolas to attend the launch – after all, it was a collaboration between Camille Andre and American Athletics.

But more than that, it was a huge occasion for Camille, and Nicolas wanted to be by her side, just as he’d been for every other major event in her life: the launch of her company, her marriage to Andre, the birth of her son.

In fact, Nicolas had seen Lucas even before Andre had – Andre had been overseas visiting a supplier and his return flight had been cancelled, so Nicolas reached the hospital before him.

And, of course, he’d been the first person Camille had called after the accident, and the one she’d turned to ever since.

Nicolas wanted to fix everything in Camille’s world. He instinctively took care of her, determined to resolve every issue and smooth over any trouble. He did it because he loved her – always had, always would.

But now Nicolas was beginning to question how Camille seemed to take his support for granted.

Was he destined to always be her fixer, his only role to troubleshoot her problems?

Nicolas wanted to be more than that. He wanted to be her lover again.

He wanted to be her husband and for them to grow old together.

The traffic started moving suddenly, the hold-up magically disappearing as they crossed the bridge into New Jersey. Nicolas rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache.

At least now he had a valid reason to see Camille – the fusion fashion line between their companies had been a long time in the pipeline, a crucial pivot for both brands.

But he knew that it wasn’t strictly business driving his need to get there.

The last few turbulent years had thrown up a lot of questions; now Nicolas was heading to Mallorca, and he wanted answers.