The Charmers: A Novel

He wandered away, mobile phone in hand. He had a lazy walk that at the same time contained more energy than any man I’ve ever known, as though he were ready for anything. Because of his jungle experiences, I guessed. In that deep dark world anything might happen and usually did. In fact, he was probably lucky to have survived this long without getting a poisoned dart in the back of his head from some hidden jungle warrior.

When he returned, with new reservations for side-by-side seats, I told him exactly what I had been thinking.

“It’s not as exciting as you imagine,” he said. We were crammed into uncomfortable chairs at a too-small café table, surrounded by Parisians who as always, were so into each other they had no time for mere mortals such as us. And we had no time for the Parisians either. I no longer cared to note what they were wearing that looked so much better than my own usual sweater and skirt, though, under Verity’s surveillance, I had abandoned the T-strap black leather shoes in favor of a pair of heeled suede booties with a bit of fringe around the ankle. Quite becoming, though I say so myself, and they definitely made my legs look longer. Actually, longer than I had ever thought they were, which just goes to show we girls should take stock of what the mirror tells us, look longer, see what we can do.

Verity always said that, anyway. But then, she was gorgeous with her young-girl blond looks. How she ever got involved with the cheating husband, I’ll never understand. Still, that’s being taken care of right this minute, as I speak, in fact, by my trusty lawyers. Before she knows it, Verity will be a free woman. But now, I’m listening very carefully to what else Chad has to tell me.

“Verity is enamored of the Boss,” he said, as casually as if it were an everyday experience she went through.

Stunned, I took a slurp of my vermouth cassis, a tall, shocking-pink drink crackling with ice I had recently become enamored of. I said, “Verity and men are not good news. Especially with a powerhouse like the Boss.”

“I warned you. And I warned her against him. He’s all charm and generosity, but there’s something lurking under that handsome face. And anyhow, where did he get all that money?”

“Does anyone ever know where rich men get their money?” I asked the question, knowing the answer. “No, we do not. “They just have it, that’s all. And some of them lavish it around, like the Boss, all show-offy, while others keep it quiet and do good deeds. Of course,” I added, “that doesn’t mean he’s not doing charitable things, in fact I’ve heard of some of them.”

“Those charities are reported, very carefully in press releases, from the Boss himself. I told you before, Mirabella, and I’m saying it again now, I don’t trust him. There’s something in his eyes, the way he looks at a woman, that too-intense stare as though he would like to get into her soul.… Ah, I can’t describe it, it’s simply something I sense.…”

Despite his not being able to describe it, I knew exactly what Chad meant. In my bones, I knew. And yet, I had danced happily in the Boss’s arms, thinking how wonderful he was, throwing a fantastic party for all his friends. But were we really his friends? Did we really know him? The person he was? I was merely an acquaintance, as was Verity, until he rescued her, the mermaid from the sea. He’d taken pity on her youth and vulnerability.…

“That’s exactly it,” I said to Chad. “Her youth and vulnerability.”

“Her youth and vulnerability,” he repeated. “And, she’s there, alone in his guesthouse.”

I felt a sudden claw of anxiety. “I mean, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t…” I did not want to voice what I was thinking, but Chad knew exactly what I meant.

“We have to get back,” he said. “Lucky I have the tickets. We’ll be there in a few hours.”

I hoped it would be soon enough.

And then he got the phone call.

I watched him walk away from me again, mobile clutched to his ear, a concerned frown between his brows as he turned to look at me. He raised an eyebrow, lifted a shoulder in a what-can-I-do shrug. I heard him say, “I’ll be there.” And then he came back and put an arm around me.

“An emergency,” he said. “A child, a car accident.”

I nodded. I knew he had to go.

He tilted my chin with a finger, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m a doctor first and foremost. That’s the way it will always be.”

I nodded again. Of course it would. He was already shifting his bag onto his shoulder.

I said, “Then I’ll go on alone.”

He looked sharply at me. “I can’t let you do that. It’s dangerous.”

“My friend’s in danger. It’s what I have to do.”

I probably sounded as though I were putting him on the line for not going, but that was not what I’d intended. “She’s all alone,” I said, suddenly remembering how alone Verity had seemed when I met her on that Paris-to-Nice train, when she did not really even know where she was going, and certainly not why. Simply escaping, she had thought, only to end up in more danger than she would ever have faced from the cheating husband.

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