Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

I stayed in the cabin the next day.

Kissing Joel on his way out the door, I settled into bed and grabbed my book, reading until I was sick of words on a page. Then, I turned on the television in our room, thankful that by Theo’s insistence of me staying on the yacht and thus us being in a stateroom, we had that luxury. I watched three movies in a row before I left the bed only long enough to get myself food. Then, I was right back in the cabin.

Joel didn’t question me — not when he came in to check on me just before dinner, and not when he asked if I wanted to join him and the rest of the crew below deck once they were off duty. He knew me better than anyone, and he didn’t need to hear me say it to understand that the day before had drained me — physically and mentally — and the only way to refill my tank was to be alone.

Blessedly, being in my cabin all day meant I escaped Theo’s guests for their second day onboard. Joel told me before he went below deck that they departed after dinner, and then we pulled away from the dock, away from Saint-Tropez, on our way to Nice.

I slept hard that night — which I was thankful for, since I didn’t sleep at all the night before — and I woke the next morning abruptly to the crew bustling around docking us once again. Joel had already gone from our room, and I wondered how he survived like that — working all day every day, drinking all night every night, and somehow waking up before the sun to do it all again.

When I finally peeled myself out of bed, there was a sheet of cream card stock neatly folded on the floor of our room, as if it had been slipped under the door.

Meet me on the main deck. 8 a.m. sharp. Bring your camera.

There was no name under the neatly scripted ink, but it was easy enough to determine who it was from. I sighed, wishing upon wishes that there wouldn’t be another group of people for me to cater to yet again. I had barely recovered from the first time, and still had visions I was trying to erase from my mind.

Still, it was part of the deal, part of my free ride .

I shook my head, wondering where I would be now, had I not taken Theo’s offer. I wouldn’t have had as cushy of a bed, that much was certain. And I likely wouldn’t have seen such stunning sights even in these first few days.

But at least I’d have been alone.

It was already seven forty-five, so I dressed quickly, grabbing my camera and bringing my small backpack with extra memory cards and lenses just in case. I found Theo lounging in one of the chairs by the bar, his ankle crossed over knee, The Wall Street Journal newspaper spread out between his hands and a tall glass of orange juice on the bar in front of him.

“Ah, good morning, Miss Dawn,” he said when I approached, folding the paper and setting it aside. He looked different from the other night, though he wore a navy suit and expensive dress shoes and had his hair styled just the same. Somehow, in the morning light, he seemed a little less intense and a little more boyish.

He smiled easily, folding his hands together in his lap, like the last time I’d seen him he hadn’t been mauled by two wolves disguised as French women.

“Morning,” I managed with a flat smile of my own.

“Were you ill yesterday?”

I almost laughed at the question, but the fact that he’d noticed I wasn’t around cut the sound short. “No, Mr. Whitman… er, Theo,” I corrected. “I just…” I swallowed, looking down at my camera before my eyes met his again. “Just needed a day to myself.”

The corner of his mouth crept up a bit. “That’s understandable. Well, are you feeling better today?”

Everything inside of me wanted to say no, but I plastered on another smile and nodded.

“Good. I was thinking you could come ashore with me. I have some business to tend to, but you could take the day to explore. Nice is beautiful,” he added, sweeping his hand toward the open side of the deck. “Much to see.”

My heart skipped in my chest. “Really?”

Theo smiled wider. “I told you I’d get you off this boat.”

The flat smile I’d given him was replaced by a real one, relief and excitement flooding my chest in equal measure. I did something of a little dance that I didn’t mean to do, but it made Theo laugh, and then he hopped up from his chair and grabbed the briefcase next to it. “Grab whatever you’ll need. I realize I didn’t tell you to bring your passport when I wrote that note.”

“I’ll be right back!” I was already hurrying back down the stairs before the words had fully left my lips. I dashed into our room long enough to stuff my wallet in my backpack, along with a cardigan just in case.

I didn’t have time to find Joel and tell him I was getting off the boat, but I told Ace, and he assured me he’d relay the message. Then, once I was back up top, Theo and I made our way down the ramp that connected the main deck to the dock.

“I was thinking we could have breakfast together, before my meeting and before you wander off on your own,” Theo said when we stepped off the ramp. “I know a great little place just a few blocks from here.”

I chewed my lip. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“You wouldn’t. I’m inviting you, after all. Besides, I’d like to see some of the photos you took yesterday, and I have some tips for where you could go today. If you’d be interested.”

Once again, I found it impossible to say no when those eyes of his watched me like that. So I simply nodded, and he smiled, another battle won.

Theo Whitman surprised me. I didn’t really understand why, provided I didn’t know all that much about him. But watching him walk in the narrow streets of Nice, saying bonjour now and then as we passed locals and tourists alike, I wondered who he was. I wondered why he wasn’t as stuck up and mannerless as the guests he entertained onboard. I wondered why he was sometimes severe and cold when this warm and friendly version of him existed. Was it a front put on for clients? Was it a way to assert his power?

I wondered about his home life, about how he grew up, about whether he wanted to get married and settle down and have children of his own. And I hated that, if I were being honest with myself, the likelihood of me ever finding out the answers to those questions was slim to none. I’d be on his yacht for the next few months, and then I’d never see him again.

My chest pinched.

I was surprised yet again when we made it to the breakfast spot Theo had mentioned. I’d expected him to lead us to a grand restaurant, one where we’d be asked what kind of water we wanted, and each plate would cost at least a small fortune. Would you like Grey Poupon with your poached eggs, sir? But instead, he took us to a small bakery, its doors open to the street and two kind, older women working behind the counter. One whiff of the fresh bread and pastries and my mouth was watering too much to dissect the choice further.

Theo ordered in what sounded like perfect French to me, a chocolate croissant for each of us, along with two Caffé Americanos. Then, Theo left a tip so large it made both the women nearly weep in gratitude, and we took a seat at one of the small tables in front of the store.

“So, you speak French?” I asked as Theo pulled our pastries from the paper bag and handed one to me.

“A little,” he said. “A little Spanish, too. German. And about ten words in Mandarin.”

“You sounded fluent,” I said, nodding toward the bakery doors.

He chuckled. “Far from it, but I try.” Theo bit into his croissant, the buttery flakes littering the table as he did. He groaned his approval, leaning back in his chair long enough to catch one of the woman’s attention inside. He gave her a big thumbs up, pointing to the pastry, and she and the other baker laughed in tandem, the sound filling the street like a song. Their eyes were still glossy from the tip Theo had left, and I wondered if he did that often, if he realized how much it made their day.

In the same moment Theo sat up straight again, a beautiful, luxuriously dressed woman walked by our table, her high heels somehow steady even on the rutted stone. Her eyes found Theo, and she nearly broke her neck watching him even after she had passed our table. Theo smiled and arched a brow in her direction.

Bonjour, she said.

Bonjour ma belle, Theo said back.

And the woman flushed so hard it rivaled the natural red state of my cheeks.

“How do you say heartbreaker in French?” I teased.

“ Bourreau des c?urs ,” Theo said, the words rolling off his tongue, nasally and beautiful. But his next words were curt. “Why, is that what you think I am, Miss Dawn?”

My smile slid from my face like a blob of jelly, cheeks heating. “Oh… I’m sorry, I was just—”

Theo laughed. “It’s alright. Tease away. If the shoe fits, right?” He smiled with the comment, but I couldn’t help but notice the way his brows ticked together, like the joke wasn’t all that funny at all.

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

He shook his head quickly, sipping his coffee. “I’m not capable of being offended.”

I snorted at that. “Sure, you are. Everyone can get their feelings hurt by something.”

“Not if you don’t have feelings at all.”

“Stone cold, are you?”

“I’ve found life is easier that way.” He shrugged, and I hated how much I liked the smile that found his lips, how sexy it was in its nonchalance.

When did I start to notice how sexy a smile was?

“Can I see the photos you took yesterday?”

I reached into my bag, retrieving my camera and turning on the preview mode before handing it across the table. It was always uncomfortable to hand my baby to someone else, to trust them to hold onto her and care for her and not drop her. But to his credit, Theo put the strap around his neck just in case, and he held the machine steady as he scrolled the photos.

He cringed as much as I did the night I took the photos as he looked through them, and after a few silent moments, he shook his head, handing the camera back to me. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“It was fine,” I lied. “They were nice.”

Theo arched a brow. “Do you always lie to make others feel better?”

“What? No, I…”

Theo took another bite of his croissant as he waited for me to defend myself.

“Okay, fine, ” I conceded. “It wasn’t my favorite way to spend an evening, but this was part of our deal.”

Theo nodded. “Yes, well, it’s my hope that any other jobs I have for you won’t be as taxing. Once you send those to me, you can delete them forever and purge your memory,” he joked, but it was followed by a pause and a lift of his brows. “Audrey and Nicolette are one of a kind.”

The words by themselves made my stomach roll, visions of their tongues and hands on Theo’s body flashing in my mind. But the way he said them, the subtle shake of his head and widening of his eyes told me he wasn’t a huge fan of the girls.

But then why did he sleep with them?

I shook my head.

Not my business.

“They remind me of my sister in some ways,” I said. “She’s so naturally beautiful and charming that I think she sometimes forgets she’s not the center of the universe.” I chuckled. “Although, most of her ex-boyfriends treated her like she was, so maybe it’s not her fault she feels that way.”

“We’re all the center of our own universes,” Theo said. “We’re told not to be selfish, not to put ourselves first, but if not us, then who?”

I shrugged. “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”

“And what’s yours?”

“I don’t know that I really have an opinion on it.”

Theo rested his elbows on the table, eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer. “Why do you do that?”

I frowned. “Do what?”

“Shy away from saying what you believe, what you want. It’s like you want to hide from anyone who shows a centimeter of interest in you, like you couldn’t possibly have anything of merit to add to a conversation.”

My heart stopped in my chest, the quiet skip of the beat echoing in my ears as I stared back at Theo. It was unnerving, to be pegged down that way by someone who barely knew me.

I cleared my throat. “I just prefer to listen.”

Theo watched me like he didn’t believe that was all there was to it, but then after a moment, he sat back again, appraising me. “A lot of people could learn to listen more. Myself included.”

Theo and I drank our coffee and ate our breakfast in silence for a bit, and then he relaxed more in his chair, crossing an ankle over the opposite knee the way I’d found him earlier this morning.

“Your sister, is she older?”

I shook my head. “Younger. She’s just finished her first year at CU.”

“And that’s where you just graduated?”

“Mm-hmm,” I said. “She’s there on a volleyball scholarship. I don’t know if you’re into that sport, but she’s incredible . She’s what they call a libero. It’s a defensive position, lots of diving for the ball and stuff. It’s amazing to watch her when she’s really in her element.”

“Do you play?”

“Oh, God no.” I laughed at the audacity. “My mom used to, though. And my dad is a sports nut, so I think my sister was his saving grace, since he doesn’t have any sons. They’ve been Juniper’s biggest fan for as long as I can remember, putting her in summer camps, doing whatever it took to get her to all-state tournaments, buying her all the best gear.”

“And what about you?”

“Oh, I’m her biggest fan, too. I love watching—”

“No, I mean, what about you ,” Theo said again. “Have your parents been big supporters of your photography?”

“Oh,” I said, looking down at the table and pulling my long hair off my neck. “Yeah. I mean, they know I love photography, but I just think it’s not as exciting as volleyball, you know?” I shrugged on a laugh. “Not like they can cheer me on at games or anything.”

I didn’t like the way Theo’s eyes watched me then, his brows pinched together above them, more questions dancing in his eyes that I hoped he wouldn’t ask.

“What about you?” I asked, sipping my coffee. “Where did you go to school?”

“Harvard.”

I almost spit out my coffee, which earned me a chuckle from Theo as he handed me a napkin. “You went to Harvard? ”

“Don’t get too excited,” he said. “I dropped out after my first year.”

My eyes bulged. “What? Why? ”

“Because it was a waste of time.”

I blinked.

“I didn’t need to be sitting in classrooms all day, listening to washed-up professors try to tell me how to make a career,” he said. “Nor did I want to be there. I had no desire to be in honor societies or fraternities or to spend my day throwing frisbee or whatever else my friends were doing. I was too obsessed with coding and database management to care about anything else. It was the early 2000s. The Internet and all it had to offer was bursting with possibility. And I was wasting my time and my potential trying to follow society’s suggested path.” Theo shrugged. “And after one year, I was tired of it.”

“What did your parents say?”

Theo chuckled at the horror in my voice. “Oh, they weren’t happy. But I know my father better than anyone, and I knew the only way to get him to understand my vision was to just get it done so he could see it in actuality. He’s not someone who cheers on a dream,” he said. “He cheers on success.”

“So you just quit school and…?”

“I started building Envizion. My roommate had the same desire I did. And while, unlike me, he stayed enrolled in school, we spent all our free time working on the business plan and coding and engineering what we had in mind for email marketing. We were especially proficient with server management, which set us apart in those early explorative years.” He smirked. “I know you’re too young to remember this, but there was a time when there was no service for email marketing. So as ancient as it sounds now, it was innovative then.”

“I’m not that young,” I deflected, but I didn’t miss how young I sounded trying to defend myself. From my research on Theo after I found out who he was, I knew he was thirty-three — born on December 31st at 11:58 p.m., in 1986 at Bellevue Hospital in Manhattan. There was an old newspaper article about all the New Year’s Eve and New Year babies, about the race to be the first baby born in 1987.

I wondered if the author of the article ever realized that he wrote about the birth of a baby who would become one of the youngest billionaires in the world.

“The ripe old age of twenty-one.”

“Twenty-two,” I corrected.

Theo smiled wider, watching me curiously. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then his phone dinged in his suit pocket, and he pulled it out with a deep frown. He texted something quickly, putting the phone away again, but the line between his brows stayed in place.

“I’ve got to run,” he said, standing abruptly.

I stood, too, the metal of my chair grating against the stones. “Thank you,” I said. “For breakfast, and for letting me off the boat.”

Theo quirked a brow at that. “I didn’t grant you any kind of permission you didn’t already have. You’re free to leave the boat any time you’d like. I’m not your master, Miss Dawn.” Then, he pressed his palms on the table, leaning toward me with a wicked grin. “Though, if there was ever a time you wanted to change that, I would be happy to oblige.”

All the blood drained from my face, a shiver sending a flood of goosebumps cascading down every inch of me. I was frozen from his gaze, from those words, for what felt like an eternity.

Then, Theo laughed — and it was the most confusing laugh of my life. I couldn’t tell if it was because he’d been joking and the look on my face was exactly the response he was looking for, or if he was dead serious, and he was laughing because he was the only one who knew just how serious he was.

“Have fun today,” he said, standing straight once more and sliding his sunglasses over those piercing eyes. “If you can, make your way to the Chateau de Bellet vineyards. It’s beautiful there.”

And with one last knowing smirk, he left me alone with our half-eaten breakfast.