A/N: What is this sorcery? A chapter of mine less than ten thousand words? 'Tis true. If you'll recall from my previous A/N, chapter 44 was split and this chapter is the continuation. Think of the two chapters together as the official director's cut extended dance remix version.
Thank you, as always for your kind words of support for this story and me. Please, keep them coming. Thank you, too, to those of you who have been so encouraging to me in the last couple of weeks. Real life hit hard and things have gone a bit wonky. The good news is, we're beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. The bad news is, it might be an oncoming train.
As always, AgentInWaiting did a stellar job betaing this chapter. There is a particular article of clothing I included in this chapter at his request. Be sure to thank him.
Finally, twenty-one years ago today, I married my sweet, wonderful guy. We'll be celebrating at a locale featured in this story. I'll leave it up to you to figure out which one.
Chapter 45 – Good Day Sunshine
When Sarah awoke, she found herself in the exact same position she had been in when she fell asleep—facedown on the bed. Rolling over, she blinked a couple of times and then regretted opening her eyes at all. Dry and gritty, her eyelids seemed to stick to, rather than glide over, her eyes like they were supposed to. After giving herself a couple of minutes to let the fog lift from her brain, she sat up. When she felt the dull headache and vaguely sick feeling in her stomach, she collapsed flat on the mattress again. Since she hadn't drunk any alcohol the night before, she knew she wasn't hung over. Yet she felt like she'd been downing tequila shots all night.
Glancing at the clock and seeing that it was only seven o'clock in the morning, she knew the hangover-like symptoms were due to fatigue. She was out of practice staying out late every night and it was beginning to wear her down. After a quick trip to the bathroom, on her way back to bed she stopped at the room's minibar to snag a bottle of water. Seeing the bottles of alcohol made her grimace and her throat close off. Strangely, though, the small box of crackers in the snack basket on top of the counter seemed to call to her. Not caring that it would probably add ten euros to her room's tab, she tore open the box and popped a wafer in her mouth.
After munching on a half dozen crackers and chasing them down with water, she started to feel human again, but nevertheless exhausted. Since it was still early and she had only slept for a few hours, she crawled back under the covers, curled into a ball and went back to sleep.
The jingle of her ringing phone woke her again three hours later. Lifting it from the nightstand, she opened an eye and saw Chuck's picture. She flicked at the screen with her thumb and put the phone on her ear. "Good morning," she rasped. Her vocal cords seemed to have rusted.
"Good morning, beautiful," Chuck said. His voice caressed her over the phone. "Sounds like I woke you. I'm sorry, honey, it's just that we're all heading out in a few minutes and I wanted to give you a call when we were both in our rooms and could talk."
She rose up on an elbow. "No, don't be sorry. I'm glad you called. I miss you." Still sounding gravelly, she cleared her throat.
He heaved a sigh at his end of the phone and said, "I miss you, too."
"Thank you for my beautiful flowers," she said when her gaze landed on the roses on the table. "It was a lovely surprise when I got back here last night."
"You're welcome. I wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed our first date."
She smiled. "You noticed it too?"
"Yeah. It was kind of weird and awesome at the same time." After a pause, he asked, "So, will you have dinner with me tonight?" There was a hint of uncertainty as if he was afraid she might say no.
"Hmmm. I guess," she said, a tease coloring her voice. She rearranged her pillows and leaned back against them. It was amazing what an additional three hours of sleep had done for her. She felt so much better. "We'll probably have to mix business and pleasure, though."
"Didn't make contact last night?"
"No," she answered. "Carina recognized Benoit's computer guy at one of the clubs, but we lost him before we could talk to him. We don't know if he's been with Benoit or not, so we might not have gotten any intel even if we had caught up to him." Doubt and frustration churned in her middle. "Chuck, I'm not sure this plan is going to work. What if we never get a chance to talk to any of Benoit's men? What if Benoit sneaks in and out of the casino and we never even see him? He could get back on his boat and sail off." She finally put to words the concern that had been nagging at her.
"Then we deal with it and move on."
"But your parents—"
"—are alive and well and that's all that matters right now. It won't be the end of the world if all of this doesn't get settled this weekend."
"But the kids—"
"The kids will be fine. The kids are fine. There are a lot of kids that only get to see their grandparents once or twice a year. That might be them, that's all. They don't see Devon's parents all the time," he pointed out.
"That's true."
"Sweetheart, please don't put too much pressure on yourself. I know you want to catch Benoit for a bunch of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that he's an international criminal wanted by half the world, including your own agency. It's because of you that we're as close as we are and right now you're doing everything you can. Give yourself a break, okay?"
He was right. She was doing everything she could. "Okay," she answered softly. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." His tone was loving and gentle. Silence ensued until he asked, "If dinner tonight is mission related, where should we go? And by 'we' I assume Carina will be there, too?"
"Mm-hmm. And Barstow. Carina refuses to be a third wheel."
"Fair enough."
"She and I ended up going trendy last night, but we think the guys we really need to talk to won't hang out at places like that. Tonight we need to go upscale. I'll make the reservations and let you know what time."
"I get the feeling there'll be a dress code if we go upscale."
In the background, she heard a happy shout and clapping when Chuck said the words, "dress code."
Laughing, Sarah said, "Let me guess. Bridget?"
He gusted an amused sigh. "Yeah. We were already going to go walk around the Place du Casino today. We wanted to check things out over there and let Bridget window shop at the expensive boutiques. Now she has a gleam in her eye. Should I be worried?"
"Welcome to my world, Bartowski," Sarah heard Casey snark gleefully.
"If Casey survived a Bridget Woodcomb makeover, so can you. I can't wait to see what she ends up picking out for you."
"Who says I'll let her dress me up?" In the dead silence, Sarah could picture the raised eyebrow and the "you're kidding, right?" look their niece was giving him. "Yeah, okay. I'll totally let her dress me up." He snickered. "She'll really launch into orbit when she finds out she'll get to work over Scott, too." Sarah smiled when she heard another hoot from Bridget. "What about you? Will you wear the blue dress you wore to the opera?" Chuck asked.
She scrunched her face in thought. "No, I don't think so. It's a little too formal." She needed to scour through her luggage. "I'll figure out something."
"Okay. So, you know what our plans are this morning. What are you up to today?"
"I need to check in with Graham and catch up on some reports. I haven't heard from Carina yet, so I assume she's still asleep. We'll probably get a bite to eat here at the hotel and then spend the afternoon at the beach. Maybe Charles Charles and company can run into us. I'll be wearing another one of my new bikinis." She paused for effect. "It's green."
There was a sharp intake of air. "Guh—green?" He sounded like his brain had completely derailed.
"Mm-hmm."
"I… I like green. What… um, what kind of green? Like Kermit the Frog green? Not… not that that would be bad, though, 'cause, you know, it's you… in a bikini… not because I have strong feelings about Kermit the Frog one way or… 'cause any color would be…" He paused and then said, "You can stop my babbling anytime."
Grinning into the phone, she said, "Not a chance. You're too adorable when you get all flustered."
"Mm-hmm. I'm going to get you back one day, just so you know, and it'll be when you least expect it."
"I'm looking forward to it."
"You don't believe me, but I will. And you still haven't answered my question."
She stared at the bikini draped across the back of one of the chairs. "It's definitely not Kermit the Frog green. Bridget would know what to call it better than me, but I'm going to go with pine green."
He sighed. "My favorite shade of green."
"You don't even know what that looks like, do you?" she asked with a short laugh.
"Not a clue. Doesn't matter. Like I said, it's you in a bikini."
It hurt how much she missed him. "So I guess we'll see you at the beach later?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Great." She smiled into the phone. "Have fun this morning and I'll see you later."
"Okay. Bye. I love you."
"I love you, too. Bye."
She ended the call, dropped the phone on the mattress and let out a contented breath. Now she could start her day.
~ O ~
Sarah checked the clock on the nightstand. It was twelve-thirty. She was scheduled to meet Carina at one of the hotel's outdoor cafés for lunch in half an hour and then head straight for the beach. She'd just finished putting on her bikini and as she tied a colorful scarf around her hips as a cover up, she figured out that it was six-thirty in the morning in D.C. Director Graham would certainly be awake and might even be in his office, once again assuming he ever left it. Either way, it was the perfect time to call him.
"Good morning, Agent Walker," he said when he answered after the first ring. "Or I guess I should say 'afternoon' where you are."
"Good morning, Director. I hope I didn't call too early."
"Not at all. I'm on my way into the office as we speak. I want to get inside before the heat and humidity take over."
That was certainly something she didn't miss about summers in D.C. "An excellent plan, sir."
"Yes. How are things in Monte Carlo? Have you made any contact with Benoit or any of his associates?"
"No, I'm sorry to say we haven't. Agent Miller and I went to several clubs last night hoping to run into Benoit's men. At one of them, she recognized Benoit's computer guy. We lost him in the crowd before we could intercept him."
"That's disappointing."
"Yes, sir. It was. However, Agent Miller wasn't sure he would have been much help since she wasn't convinced he would have been one of the men Benoit would have taken with him when he went underground. We're still hoping to make contact with Benoit himself or at least one of his closest advisors."
"Perhaps you should spend some time inside the casino. I should think his security men will have to be there at some point and they could see you there."
"Yes, we considered that too, sir, but see it as a last resort. If we push too hard, if it's somehow not perceived as a coincidence that Agent Miller and I are in Monte Carlo at the same time Benoit is, it could spook him and he disappears. We're hoping he comes to us. Agent Miller and I will be checking out the yachts anchored along the coast today. We'll be going into Monte Carlo tonight for dinner. If we don't see Benoit or any of his men today, we'll be sure to be at the casino tomorrow. However, nothing is guaranteed. Our concern is that since he'll be in a private room and if security sneaks him in, we may not see him at all."
"Good point. Proceed with your plans for the rest of the day. Speaking of yachts, we've tasked an agency satellite to track all yachts and other boats in the area for the next several days. We'll check registrations and see if we can track down which one is Benoit's."
"That might prove difficult if he used an unknown alias to register it."
"Agreed. Also, I wanted to let you know that in addition to Sarah Irving's business website, we've developed and updated her pages on various social media sites. And of course the DEA has continued to update Agent Miller's 'Caryn Mitchell' Facebook page these past months."
"Sounds good, sir." She'd have to check out her alter ego's Facebook page to see what she'd been up to lately. "I'll be sure to forward some pictures of Agent Miller here in Monte Carlo that can be added."
"Good. Also, given that Mr. Bartowski might fall under scrutiny, we've uploaded a page for Charles Charles on the website of the corporation that purchased his software company. He is a major shareholder and a member of the board of directors. There's also a Wikipedia page about him that, among other things, reinforces the fact that he zealously protects his privacy. There will be no Facebook or other social media pages. Other than using the same wide picture on both sites where we've Photoshopped him standing with Barstow and Vegas, there will be no other photos posted."
"Thank you, sir. We certainly don't want Chuck's face plastered all over the Internet."
"No, we don't." After a pause, he asked, "Do you have anything else to report, Agent Walker?"
She quickly ran through everything they had discussed in her mind. "No sir. I think we've covered all of it."
"Very good. Keep me apprised of any new developments." With that, the call ended.
She spent the rest of her time before lunch, looking over Sarah Irving's and Caryn Mitchell's Facebook pages as well as the information on Charles Charles. Everything on Chuck's pages was exactly the educational and professional backstory he had memorized. There was no mention of his family or personal life, other than where he was born and grew up, with a note that he was a very private person. It was stated that he was unmarried, but didn't mention his nieces and nephews at all. The agency techs had done an excellent job on Charles Charles' and Chuck Bartowski's behalf.
Checking her own pages, the business site for her consulting firm hadn't changed much since the agency had designed it before her mission to Benoit's house in Paris in March. The techs must have had fun working on Sarah Irving's Facebook page, though. Ms. Irving was a workaholic and because of that, hadn't been in a relationship with anyone in quite some time. She worked mostly in the States with occasional trips to Europe and Asia. The techs had Photoshopped pictures of her at various business functions, including her playing softball at the company picnic of one of her best clients. They had accounted for every detail, down to Sarah Irving and Caryn Mitchell becoming "friends" soon after they "met" at Benoit's party. Now that she and Caryn were on vacation in Monte Carlo, she would be sure to take some pictures to post on her page.
She couldn't help but chuckle when she skimmed Caryn Mitchell's page. It didn't look much different than what she imagined Carina Miller's real Facebook page would look like. Nearly every picture was of her, champagne glass in hand, at a late night party in the hottest spots in the U.S. and Europe.
"Speaking of Carina," she said quietly to herself. It was time to meet her friend for lunch. After pulling on a cotton top, she shut down her laptop and stored it away. As she slung her beach bag over a shoulder, she had to admit to herself that it was days like this that made her really love her job.
~ O ~
Sarah lay flat on her stomach on one of the many lounge chairs set up in a long row on the hotel's private beach. The strong summer afternoon sun heated her back and although the sea breeze blowing across her skin kept her from completely scorching, it felt like it was time to cool off.
Flipping over, she sat up and said to Carina baking on the lounge chair next to her, "I'm going to go take a dip and cool off."
"Thinking about your nerdy stud got you all hot and bothered?"
"Yup," she said without hesitation. "I think I'll grab him, haul him into the water with me so we can frolic. I know how badly you want to watch us frolic." She chuckled when she saw Carina shudder. "Maybe we'll get into a water fight before we make out for everyone on the beach to see." While she was teasing Carina, when the pictures of those things popped into her head, it actually kind of did get her hot and bothered.
"Oh God, Sarah. How did you get to be so evil?"
"Hanging out with you." With an arched eyebrow, she added, "Besides, you started it."
Huffing a breath, Carina admitted, "I did." She readjusted her sunglasses and stared toward the water. "Beware, though. You know I have no problem doing what you just said and a lot more with Scott on this very beach. Right now." Her tone was playful and yet matter-of-fact.
This time it was Sarah's turn to shudder. "I do know that and should know better than to try to outdo you in a 'doing inappropriate things in public' contest."
"You'd be wise to remember."
"Yes, oh queen. Now that we have that settled, I'll be back in a few." She stood and checked the knots of the ties on her hips of her green bikini bottom. It would not do to have a bikini malfunction while she was swimming. They were secure and after hiking up on the straps of her top, she strolled across the pebbly beach toward an area roped off for swimming only.
She walked past and smiled down at a group of small children playing in the shallow water. The surf was gentle and tiny waves broke over her lower legs as she waded further out. The temperature of the water was perfect. It was cool but not cold. Once she strode out to where it was at her waist, she took a deep breath, pushed off the bottom and dove into the water like a dolphin. Still submerged, she propelled herself by keeping both feet together and using her whole body to execute several strong dolphin kicks. She then blew out her held breath and headed for the surface. Breaking it, she took a deep breath of fresh air and, having kept her eyes closed against the saltwater, swiped at them with her fingers. They stung a little when she opened them, but it was worth it to swim in the Mediterranean.
With only her head out of the water, she spun around and faced the shore. She took in the breathtaking scenery of the mountains that seemed to rise out of the sea just beyond the beach. The gentle swells of the sea lifted her up and down, so that at times her feet touched the bottom and sometimes she was floating. It was a wonderfully peaceful feeling.
As she drifted on rolling water, she surveyed the beach. Chuck and the kids had arrived about an hour after she and Carina had and found a place to put all of their stuff nearby. They weren't all together but that was okay. They were still able to interact with each other, but were careful to be seen as two separate groups.
After floating for another ten minutes, she swam back toward the shore. When it got too shallow to swim, she stood and walked out the rest of the way. As she left the water, she swept her hair to one side and squeezed the water from it with both hands.
The towel on her chair was rumpled, so she picked it up, snapped it a couple of times in the breeze and covered her chair with it again. Sitting down and swinging her legs up on the lounge, she said to her friend, "The water's fantastic. You should go in."
"Meh. There are fish in that water."
Sarah ran her fingers through her wet hair and slipped her sunglasses on. "So? I've seen them. They're not very big and they're certainly not going to hurt you."
"Fish eat and then they poop. I'm not going to swim in a fish toilet."
"I've seen you swim in water with fish in it plenty of times."
"Only when I had to."
Sarah tilted her head while she examined that statement in her mind. Now that she thought about it, she'd seen Carina swim in pools often, but the redhead had only been in a sea or ocean when a mission deemed it necessary. "Huh. Okay, then. You know I can use this information against you."
"You do and I'll kick your ass so hard, you'll end up in Algeria."
"I doubt that, but since you're keeping a secret for me, I'll keep your fish poop secret."
"Deal."
Once her skin had dried in the wind and sun, Sarah slathered on more sunblock and then relaxed to take in everything going on around her.
"Those girls are gorgeous," Carina said, looking over at Lizzie and Lisa, reclining in their lounge chairs, sunning themselves. Lizzie's tasteful bikini—something that had been difficult to find—was sherbet orange while her sister's was bright pink. "Have you noticed the way those teenaged cabana boys keep asking them if they need anything?"
"I have," Sarah answered, eyeing the girls. Carina was right. They were gorgeous. All of her kids were. How could they not be with Ellie and Devon as their parents? "Fortunately, Casey noticed, too. They may come around, but with him glaring at them, they don't hang around for very long."
"He is an excellent deterrent," her friend agreed. "Big scary Marine types tend to be." They both looked over to where Casey sat, his head in perpetual motion as he watched over the kids. Resplendent in his USA hat, Checkpoint Charlie t-shirt and long dark blue shorts, he was the epitome of an American tourist. "You couldn't talk Johnny Boy into strapping on a banana hammock?" Carina asked.
"Yeah, that'll happen," Sarah answered with a snort. "He's wearing shorts. I think that's a huge step for him."
"He should wear them more often," Carina said, still staring over at the major. "He has nice knees."
"He does. I've only seen those knees once before and he was wearing lederhosen."
"I'm sorry I missed it," Carina chuckled. She tossed her auburn hair in the breeze. "I've seen Casey's knees before this, too. Only he wasn't wearing shorts or lederhosen. As a matter of fact, he wasn't wearing pants at all."
"Okay!" Sarah said, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Don't even want to know."
"Are you sure? 'Cause it's a funny story. There was this one time in Prague when Casey and I—"
The story Carina was about to tell—one that most assuredly would have given Sarah nightmares had she heard it in all its "Casey not wearing any pants" glory—was interrupted when Megan ran up the beach toward them, a giant grin on her face.
"Did you see me? Did you see me?" she asked breathlessly. The little girl was completely adorable in her little orange life vest and navy blue bathing suit. In only a couple of days, her skin was already tanned and her blonde hair, which had been expertly put into a French braid by her oldest sister, was lighter.
"We did!" Sarah replied with a huge smile of her own. "Was it fun?"
Megan hopped up and down and clapped her hands. "It was the best! I wanna go again! And faster next time."
Sarah has seen that Chuck had arranged through the hotel's beach club for the kids to be pulled behind a speedboat on blue and yellow inflatables called donuts. Two donuts were pulled at a time, each one holding a kid who sat with their backside down in the hole and his or her feet sticking up in front. The smaller and younger the kids, the slower the boat had gone.
"I'm not sure you'll get to go faster until you're bigger, but I'm glad you had fun even if you didn't go as fast as you wanted."
"Kid's an adrenaline junkie," Carina said under her breath. "I approve."
Megan nodded, her grin never fading. "It was really fun."
Chuck walked up and stood behind Megan, looking down at the two women with his hands on his hips. He looked as adorable as Megan wearing his bigger life vest. "You two want a go at it?"
Sarah snapped her head toward Carina and shot a glare over her sunglasses to warn the redhead off from making an inappropriate comment. She could tell Carina was about to explode with innuendo, but somehow managed to hold it back.
"Thanks, but Caryn and I are going to go for rides on a different kind of watercraft in a few minutes."
Chuck's eyebrows pulled together. "Really? What are you going to do?"
"We want to get a closer look at some of the yachts out there, so we're going to jump on a couple of jet skis and cruise around."
"Oh, great," he said, letting her know he caught her underlying mission of perhaps seeing Benoit. "You want some company?" he asked with a hopeful smile.
"No, thanks," Sarah answered, her voice light. "We're good." His face crumbled when she turned down his offer. Fighting off the smile that twitched at her lips, she said, "Besides, you'll be too busy to go jet skiing with us."
His brow wrinkled in confusion. "Me? Busy? Doing what?"
"I guess I forgot to tell you. I set it up for you to go parasailing."
His mouth dropped open and he gawped at her.
"Is that the parachute behind a boat?" Megan asked, her eyes as wide as her uncle's. "Where you go way up high?"
"Yup." She looked at Chuck's still stunned face and started to worry. Swinging her legs off her lounge, she sat up straight and said, "Is that okay? I thought maybe you'd like it."
His astonishment gave way and he seemed to come to his senses. A happy smile slowly grew. "Yeah, I'd love to do that. That's really cool. Thanks."
She popped a shoulder up and down. "You're welcome."
"Just make sure that harness you strap on around your hips doesn't squish any important body parts, Chuckie," Carina said, a smirk lifting at the corner of her mouth.
"Huh?" Megan asked, looking first at Carina and then Sarah.
"Come on, Caryn," Sarah said, whirling around on Carina to give her the evil eye, "let's go jump on some jet skis while Chuck flies over us."
"The Flying Nerd. Maybe he can get his own TV show," Carina said, her tone bone dry.
This time, Sarah simply ignored her riffing friend and stood. Taking Megan's hand, they walked toward where Lizzie and Lisa lounged. "You stay here with your sisters while we're gone and don't go near the water unless a grown up is with you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Aunt—" Megan stopped and looked up at her aunt, her face filled with alarm. Sarah gave her a gentle, understanding smile. Megan's slip-up was really her fault. She'd gone into parenting mode without even realizing it and Megan had responded accordingly. "Yes, Ms. Irving," the little girl corrected herself.
Sarah squeezed Megan's hand. "You know what, Megan? While we're here in Monte Carlo, I'd like it if you called me Miss Sarah. Will that work for you?"
Nodding vigorously, the little girl said, "Yes!"
"Good." After leaving Megan in the safe hands of her sisters, Chuck, Vegas, who would accompany Chuck on the boat, Sarah and Carina walked to the rental kiosk. It wasn't long before the news of Chuck's upcoming adventure had spread to the rest of the group and soon all the kids, Casey and Barstow sat together on the beach, ready to watch him take flight. After signing release forms not holding the company responsible should there be a problem and he suffered injury or death, and listening to instructions on what to do, he was soon harnessed up and riding on the platform boat out to where it would pull him along to soar over the Mediterranean.
Once Chuck and Vegas were on their way, Sarah and Carina signed their own pile of papers to rent jet skis. Standing near the watercraft, they each put their hair up in ponytails and Sarah clipped on her life vest. As Carina slipped hers on, she sidled up close to the tanned young man helping them and said in a low voice, "I'd like to wear you like a life vest."
Sarah shook her head and watched the poor guy go bright red. Swallowing hard, he gave Carina an unsure smile. He kind of looked like he was convinced the tall redhead was going to skin him and stuff him full of some kind of flotation material.
The two women walked over to their jet skis, strapped ignition kill switch tethers around their wrists and straddled the machines. They started the engines and slowly pulled away from the dock.
Once they were far enough away from shore, they sped up their watercrafts, but didn't go full throttle. Even so, Sarah couldn't help but grin as she zoomed across the water.
"Hey!" Carina shouted over the noise of the engines. She pointed toward a man hanging from a bright yellow parachute. Like a kite, he was being reeled out from the boat he was being pulled behind and the more line he was given, the higher he rose into the air.
It was thrilling and little terrifying for Sarah to see her husband that high above the water. She had pushed aside her protective tendencies and made arrangements for him to do this, knowing the people he was with were professionals and that he would be safe. He was always full of surprises for her, roses being delivered to her hotel room being the most recent, and she wanted to surprise him. She was pretty sure she'd succeeded.
Focusing on the task at hand, they drove their jet skis toward a yacht slowly cruising along parallel to the coast. The sleek, white boat, about one hundred feet long, was quite impressive, but to Sarah it looked much too small for Benoit to live on for any extended period of time.
Not wanting to assume anything, however, they spent the next hour riding past yachts of all sizes moored along the coast. They never went terribly fast since they were trying to see who was on the boats without being too obvious while at the same time wanting to be noticed. And noticed they were. They were waved at from half the vessels they passed, which usually came along with shouted invitations to board and have drinks. While Sarah was pleased that they were indeed being spotted, they certainly weren't going accept the offers.
If Benoit was on one of the yachts, they didn't see him, nor did they see the El Dorado. They'd looked for it on the chance that Pavel Zuyev had lied to Sarah when she had threatened him with serious bodily injury in Moscow.
The two women turned in their jet skis and were making their way along the beach toward their lounge chairs when Chuck sprang up from his seat and stopped them. He had finished his parasailing adventure earlier and was still wearing an ear-to-ear grin on his face.
"Looks like someone had fun," Sarah said. It made her happy to see him so excited.
He gave her a bone-crushing hug and kissed her on the cheek. Releasing her, he said, "It was incredible, Sarah. The view from up there was amazing. Granted, it was kinda weird at first when I started floating higher and higher, but it was awesome! You should do it."
"Maybe I will tomorrow," she said, smiling at his boyish enthusiasm. "I'm glad you liked it."
"I did. Thanks." His eyes said so much more.
"You're welcome." Sarah turned to her nieces and asked, "How about you girls? Having a good day at the beach? I know Megan enjoyed being pulled behind the boat. Did the rest of you?"
"We sure did!" Lisa said. In her excitement, she sat up straight from where she'd been reclining in her chair. "We're hoping that if we can come back out here tomorrow, Lizzie and me and Fred and Curtis can go on a Flyfish. Those look really fun. If you get going fast enough, the whole thing goes up in the air."
Sarah had seen those being pulled behind motorboats throughout the day, too. They looked like big rubber rafts and did indeed go airborne when traveling at a fast enough speed. "Those do look like fun. I'm sure you bigger kids will enjoy it if you get the chance." To Bridget, she asked, "You don't want to go?"
The girl shrugged a shoulder. "I might ride in the boat."
"That sounds like a good idea." She looked down to where Megan and Martie sat on a towel playing together and was about to ask them if they wanted to ride in the boat, too, when she noticed something strange. Eyebrows scrunched together, she asked, "Why don't Spy Barbie and Dani have their bikini tops on?" Both dolls wore bikini bottoms, but were otherwise completely topless.
Martie swung her arm out and pointed down the beach. "They want to be like some of the other ladies on the beach, so they're like that lady down there."
Nodding, Megan added, "Since they're on a mission, they want to fit in and not be noticed."
Chuck's eyes grew huge and round. Next to her, Carina couldn't stop the laugh that erupted.
"The boys told us about her. They saw her and came over here and were acting all goofy and giggly and stuff," Lizzie said. She heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. "They keep walking back and forth in front of her. Of course you know they'd fall over dead if they had to talk to her."
Lisa nodded. "Uncle Casey just figured out what they were doing and went after them to tell them to knock it off." She mimicked the big man as she said the last three words.
"I'd hate to be them," Barstow said from his seat behind the girls' chairs. "They might be cleaning the bathroom floors with toothbrushes later."
"Chuck," Sarah said quietly and gave him a meaningful look. She didn't want them to be punished for acting like teenage boys who'd never run across anything like that before.
He winked at her and then said to the whole group, "I'll make sure he doesn't make them clean the bathrooms with toothbrushes. Or do a hundred pushups. Or dig a latrine. Or run double time through the streets of Monaco with fifty pound packs on their backs."
Sarah heaved a sigh of relief. She kind of wanted to stay to see the goofy looks on the boys' faces when they talked about the topless woman, but they'd already spent a bit of time with the family and didn't want to look like they were all together. "Okay, well, we're going to our stuff, so have fun."
"Bye!" came the response from all the kids.
"So we were going about it all wrong out there on the jet skis, Sarah," Carina said as they walked back toward their chairs. "We should have been topless. That would have smoked Benoit out for sure."
Chuckling, Sarah answered, "Not according to Martie and Megan. If we had, no one would have noticed us since we would have fit right in with everyone else." She cut a sly look toward her friend and took in the dark purple two-piece she wore. "Besides, your bikini doesn't leave much to the imagination."
"Hey! You should thank me. It covers everything it needs to. And if I got the okay, you know I'd go topless in a heartbeat. Or have you forgotten Majorca?"
"Oh, I will never forget Majorca," Sarah said with a smile.
The two returned to their lounges and after applying another layer of sunblock, reclined once again to soak up the sun.
An hour or so later, Chuck, the kids and the agents walked past the two women on their way back to the hotel.
"You're going back to your rooms?" Sarah called out.
The whole group stopped in front of them. "Yeah," Chuck answered. "We've got to get the kids cleaned up and fed before I go out on my date tonight." He waggled his eyebrows at her.
"Oh, right! I have a date tonight, too."
Martie tugged at Lizzie's hand to get her attention. "I thought they were going out with each other," she said, clearly confused.
"They are," her sister replied. "They're just teasing."
Martie scratched the side of her head. "Grownups are confusing."
"You're right, kiddo. They are."
"Can I come by your room to pick you up later?" Chuck asked his wife and date for the evening.
"Sure. See you at eight."
He smiled, gave her a little wave in acknowledgement and then herded the kids off.
Sarah and Carina stayed at the beach for another thirty minutes before they packed up their belongings and walked back to the hotel. As they neared the front desk, the young woman working behind it called out, "Mademoiselle Irving. A package was left here for you." She placed a large flat rectangular box on the counter.
Sarah looked at Carina who only shrugged. Putting the strap of her beach bag on her shoulder, she picked up the white box with both hands. Whatever was inside wasn't heavy, but it did shift when she tucked the box under her arm. "Merci."
"Who's it from?" Carina asked as the elevator doors closed.
"I don't know. I assume that will be clear when I open it."
"Open it now."
Sarah shook her head. "I'm not going to open it in public when I don't know who it's from or what it is."
"You're no fun." After a pause, Carina asked, "Is it ticking?"
"No, it's not ticking."
"Is it a box of money?"
"It's not heavy enough."
When they reached their floor, the elevator dinged and the door slid open. "You want to come in and see what it is?" Sarah asked.
"Sure. Maybe it's a severed arm."
She snorted. "Sounds like you've been hanging around Fred too much."
Sarah slipped her card key into the slot and opened the door. Curious to find out what was in the box, she dropped the beach bag on the floor and put it on top of the bed. She lifted off the lid and revealed clothing of some kind wrapped in white tissue paper. "It's from Chuck," she said, recognizing his handwriting on the note that lay on top.
"Oooo! Chuckie buy you some sleazy lingerie? Good for him! Keeping things spicy while you make baby nerds."
"It's a pretty big box if it's lingerie," she answered, now holding the note. She read aloud, "While we were out shopping earlier today, Bridget saw this and insisted that you 'simply had to wear it tonight.' I agree. I like the red. It matches your roses. See you soon, Chuck."
"Okay, if Bridget was involved, I'm really hoping this is not sleazy lingerie," Carina said.
"I'm sure it's not." Excitement bubbled up as she set the note off to the side and removed the tissue paper. She gasped when she carefully lifted out and held up an exquisite red dress. The tea length tulle skirt was full and flouncy. Flower-like red lace and tiny crystals decorated the bodice and most of the way down the skirt. It was breathtaking.
"Wow," Carina said, obviously impressed. "The kid's proven once again she has more fashion sense than anyone I've ever known. Now I can't wait to see what she picked out for Scottie." When Sarah couldn't tear her eyes away from the dress, Carina rolled hers and said, "I'll leave you two alone."
Snapping out of her trance, Sarah said, "Yeah. See you two in the lobby at eight."
"Copy that," Carina replied as the door closed behind her.
Sarah tried on the dress and was happy to find it hugged her curves perfectly. Even at her young age, Bridget was becoming one of those people who could just look at a person and know their size. Now that she knew the dress fit, she carefully hung it in the closet and immediately texted her niece thanking her for picking out such a beautiful dress.
Next, she took a nice long shower, washing away the sunblock and salty seawater that coated her skin. Once she toweled off, she put on a gray tank top and thin white cotton pants. Checking the time, she saw that she still had an hour before Chuck would be by to pick her up.
It was quiet in her room. And lonely. She missed Chuck. She missed the kids. She missed their noise and pandemonium. She missed her audience of girls who always watched her whenever she got ready to go out. She'd grown so used to them being around that now when she was alone, the silence was deafening.
To combat the quiet, she took a cue from Chuck and decided to listen to a composer from the country they were visiting. While they were technically in Monaco, she figured French composers would have to do. There had to be Monégasque ones, but she just didn't know of any.
She grabbed her phone from the nightstand, pressed the music icon on the screen with her thumb and began to scroll through the list of composers. She let out a happy squeal when she saw the name Claude Debussy. Tapping his name, a list of pieces came on the screen. At the top was the one she wanted to listen to first. She touched the screen and the sound of a softly played piano came from the tiny speaker. Mesmerized by the opening measures of Debussy's Clair de Lune, she stood stock-still and let the cascade of notes flow around her.
After listening to it once all the way through without moving, she touched the screen to play it again. This time, she carried her phone into the bathroom and set it on the counter, the music still playing. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she was just beginning to put on her makeup when she heard a knock at her door.
Wondering what Carina could need, she swung the door open. Rather than Carina, it was Chuck standing there and smiling at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his charcoal gray double-breasted suit, white dress shirt and gray and black silk necktie.
"Chuck," she said quietly. She was thoroughly stunned by his unexpected appearance.
"I'm sorry I'm a couple minutes late—" he started. His smile vanished and his eyebrows shot up in surprise and confusion. "Aren't we meeting Caryn and Scott in the lobby at seven o'clock?"
"No, eight," she said, shaking her head slowly. She couldn't take her eyes off him.
He looked completely mortified. "Sarah, I'm so sorry." Glancing down at his Cartier, he said, "I'll go back to my room and come back in an hour."
"No, you don't have to do that. You're welcome to come in and wait. You can have a drink out on the terrace while I finish getting ready."
"Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want to impose."
She stepped back to let him in. "It's not an imposition at all. Please, come in."
A relieved smile broke on his face and he walked into the room. The door had barely latched behind them before he caught her up in his arms and gave her a scorching kiss. She eagerly returned it and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Hi," he mumbled against her lips.
"Hi." After sharing another deep kiss, she looked up at him. Seeing his self-satisfied look, she narrowed her eyes and said, "Showing up early was no accident, was it? You knew you were supposed to be here at eight, not seven."
He considered her from under lowered eyelids. "Are you saying I did this on purpose just to have an hour alone with my wife?"
"Yes."
"Guilty as charged," he confirmed, completely unabashed. He kissed her again and then said, "I thought my performance at the door was Oscar-worthy."
"I'm sure anyone who might see the security feed will be convinced that you were horribly embarrassed at your social faux pas."
With a small smile and the tiniest of nods, he lowered his head and kissed her again. It started off as playful, but quickly grew passionate. She snuck a hand between their pressed bodies and unfastened the buttons of his jacket. When they released each other from their embrace long enough for her to slide off the jacket and toss it onto a chair, she said, "You look unbelievably sexy, by the way." Without taking her eyes away from his, she leisurely tugged at his tie until the end slipped out of the knot. Once it was completely undone, she slowly pulled it from around his neck and flung it away. It joined the jacket on the chair.
"Thanks," he croaked. She noticed his breaths had grown shallow. When her fingers worked the button at the collar of his shirt, his eyelids fluttered closed. He swallowed hard and said in a halting voice, "Bridget told me to tell you that it's Dior."
"Mm-hmm." While her fingers continued to unbutton his shirt, she rose up on her tiptoes and nuzzled his neck. "You smell fantastic, too." The scent wasn't overpowering, but fresh and spicy and masculine. A little growl rumbled from her throat.
His eyes remained closed as his hands drifted under her tank top and over her back. "So do you."
She slipped her hands under his now unbuttoned shirt, swept them across his chest and down his arms, removing his shirt. "I'm not wearing any perfume," she said in a purr.
"I'd be happier if you weren't wearing anything at all." It only took another minute for the chair to be completely covered with their cast off clothes.
Alone and behind closed doors, there was no need for subterfuge, no need for Mr. Charles and Ms. Irving. They could be who they simply were: Chuck and Sarah.
