Chapter Six

Christophe’s trip to the Lowlands was shorter than his trip to Italy, and he was back in two weeks, satisfied with how it had gone. He had stopped in New York on the way back, and saw two of their most important distributors, and Camille brought him up-to-date on everything as soon as he got home. She had had another run-in with Cesare, but didn’t bother to tell him about it. He always defended him anyway, and she was more interested in telling him about the social media group she had hired. In a single week, they had increased their followers on both Facebook and Twitter, and she was pleased. Her father was ecstatic to see her. He took her out to dinner the following night, at Don Giovanni’s, one of their favorite restaurants, and they both ate enormous plates of pasta, until they could barely move.

That weekend, true to his word, he took Maxine to dinner at The French Laundry, for a sumptuous meal, and they sampled three different local wines at dinner. He was trying to educate her since she said she wanted to learn all about the Napa Valley wines while she was living there, and at the end of the meal, she commented that his wines were still the best of all of them that she had tasted so far. They sampled a Sauterne for dessert, which they both loved, although they both agreed that nothing equaled Château d’Yquem, which she said was a favorite of hers.

He told her about his trip to Holland and Belgium, with a quick stop in Berlin on the way back, and she described a dinner party she’d been to, and who had been there. She said that all of them were snobs, and he laughed. He knew all the people she had mentioned. They were the Old Guard socialites, and not likely to extend a warm welcome to her.

“There is a lot of that up here. My wife and I made a pact early in our marriage to stay away from the seriously social group. They think they own the Valley, should be the only ones here, and give parties for each other all the time. It’s a very closed group.” He was surprised that they had invited Maxine at all. They hated outsiders, and rarely invited newcomers to the Valley. “They don’t ask me anymore,” he said, looking pleased. “I don’t miss it.” But Maxine seemed much more social than he was. She had worn a pink Chanel jacket and jeans to dinner with high heels, and managed to look very chic with whatever she wore.

“That reminds me,” Maxine said casually, as they walked to his car after dinner, “I don’t know how you feel about it, but I have tickets to the ballet next week, and I wondered if you’d want to go with me. It’s Swan Lake, with a wonderful new young Chinese dancer recently arrived from Beijing. I don’t have anyone to go with me, and I was hoping I could take you to it.” She tried not to sound pathetic about it, and he grinned at her sheepishly.

“My wife loved the ballet too, and I never went with her. She always took our daughter, or a friend.”

“Is that a no?” she asked him, with a pleading expression and he laughed.

“It would be if you’d allow it to be. But how can I say no when you look at me like that?” The poor woman had no friends here. At least he had Camille to keep him company, Maxine didn’t even have a close friend to go to a movie with.

“Then you’ll come with me?” He nodded, and she was elated. “I hate going to the ballet alone. It just makes one feel lonelier. That’s the hard part about not being married, although Charles really couldn’t leave home for the last two years. We tried a couple of times but it was too much for him.” Christophe had already understood that for the last two or three years of her marriage, she had essentially been a nurse. And although she missed Charles, she felt liberated now, and wanted to live again, which was understandable. She’d been a prisoner for years.

“Why don’t we have dinner in the city after the ballet?” he suggested, and he could see that she loved the idea. He already knew she liked Gary Danko, but he had several other suggestions, and they could make a festive evening of it. And although he wasn’t a big ballet fan, it sounded like fun to spend an evening with Maxine. It made him feel faintly guilty, since he had always refused to go to the ballet with Joy.

Camille had the same reaction to it when he told her he was going with Maxine to see Swan Lake.

“You never went with Mom,” she said angrily, “you always refused. How can you go with someone else?”

“She already had the tickets, and she didn’t have anyone else to go with. I felt sorry for her,” he said, looking embarrassed as Camille stormed around the kitchen, in her mother’s defense.

“Papa, that woman is playing you. She’s acting pathetic, and there’s nothing pathetic about her. She knows exactly what she’s doing. I can feel it. She’s after you.” She sounded exactly like Joy when she said it, and he laughed at her.

“You sound just like your mother. I really don’t think that’s the case this time,” he insisted, seeming absurdly naive to his daughter. It was as plain as the nose on his face and he didn’t want to see it. He thought Maxine was an innocent, but she reminded Camille of a spider weaving her web.

“I do,” Camille insisted. “I think you’re wrong about her. She’s trying to trap you.”

“The only thing she’s trapped me into is an evening at the ballet. That seems pretty harmless to me,” but his daughter didn’t agree with him, and she looked glum the next day when he left the office early, to go home and change, in time to pick Maxine up and drive her into the city at five-thirty, so they didn’t get delayed by traffic. And he had made dinner reservations for them at Quince, since the food was comparable to Gary Danko’s.

They made easy conversation on the way into the city, and she mentioned her stepchildren again and how evil and unfair they were.

“They would have left me penniless if they could, and starving by the side of the road,” but she didn’t appear to be penniless, from the way she dressed and was living, and how lavishly she entertained, so he assumed she must have come to a satisfactory agreement with them. But he was sure it had been unpleasant, and it had left her bitter about them, and the laws in France governing inheritances and estates. “We had ten wonderful years together, nearly eleven, and they gave me twenty-four hours to leave the château after he died, and forty-eight to get my things out of the house in Paris. It’s amazing how cruel some people can be. People talk about wicked stepmothers, but I think stepchildren are far worse, particularly if there are several of them. They really ganged up on me.” She seemed deeply hurt by them as she said it.

He turned to more pleasant subjects then, and asked her about her two sons in France. She missed them and couldn’t wait for them to come during the summer. He was surprised to discover how knowledgeable she was about modern art, which he enjoyed as well. He and Joy had bought a number of paintings at auction at Sotheby’s and Christie’s, to hang in the winery.

They arrived at the opera house in plenty of time, put his car in the parking lot, and had a glass of champagne at the bar, before they took their seats in the box where she had bought tickets. They were dead center and the best seats in the house, and he was surprised to find that he enjoyed it, which made him feel even guiltier about all the times he hadn’t gone with Joy. And dinner at Quince was exactly what they’d hoped for, an excellent meal in a pleasant setting, with superb service. They were back on the road to Napa at midnight, and sat in comfortable silence in the car. It had been a lovely evening, and he thanked her for inviting him to the ballet as they got on the Golden Gate Bridge, and admired the lights of the city. It was nice being with her, and he was feeling relaxed.

“Have you forgiven me for dragging you to the ballet?” she asked, smiling at him. She was wearing a very sexy black cocktail dress under a black satin evening coat, and had been the best dressed woman at the ballet and the restaurant, which seemed to be her style. Every time he saw her, she looked beautiful. He could tell that she took excellent care of herself, and was meticulous about the way she dressed.

“I’m surprised how much I enjoyed it,” he admitted to her.

“Does that mean you’ll come with me again?” she asked pointedly and he laughed.

“I might. My daughter reminded me of all the times I refused to go with her mother, and made me feel very guilty about it,” he confessed, “but I had fun anyway.” He liked her, and it seemed odd to him after so many years, but he felt comfortable being with someone French, and speaking his own language. He was still sorry he hadn’t spoken exclusively in French to Camille when she was a child, so she’d be bilingual. She spoke it, but hesitantly, and like an American. He would have loved it if she were fluent, but neither he nor Joy had pushed it when she was small, since Joy didn’t speak it at all, and he didn’t want her to feel left out.

The drive back to Napa went quickly, and took them barely over an hour to get to her house. She invited him in casually for a drink, but he admitted he was tired and had early meetings the next day.

“I’ll call you for dinner soon,” he promised as she got out of the car, and she looked lonely to him, as she walked up her front steps, turned off the alarm, stepped into her house, and stood in the doorway and waved. He knew just how she felt. He felt the same way going to his room at night, and climbing into the empty bed. It was hard adjusting to life alone after you’d been married. Maxine seemed so solitary as she walked in and closed the door behind her. And he didn’t agree with his daughter. Maxine wasn’t “after him,” as Camille had said, she was just a woman on her own, trying to fill her time, without the husband she had lost. They had their widowhood in common. Even Camille couldn’t understand how profound that solitude was, and sense of loss, at her age. But he and Maxine knew it only too well.

Christophe didn’t see Maxine for several weeks after that. He made some domestic trips to Boston, Chicago, Atlanta, and Denver. He had vintners’ meetings on some collaborative projects, and Camille was very excited about the results of their new social media program. They had tripled their followers in as many weeks, which was a big jump. And he and Camille were walking down the street in St. Helena to go to the drugstore, when they saw Maxine coming out of the fancier of the two local shoe stores, with two big bags. Christophe stopped to talk to her, and after saying hello, Camille went ahead to the drugstore with their list.

“Shopping in St. Helena?” he teased her. After what he’d seen of her wardrobe, that was a major step down for her.

“I was too lazy to go into the city, and they have cute shoes here,” she said, smiling at him, happy to see him again. “I was afraid I had driven you away with our evening at the ballet.”

“No, I’ve been traveling a lot for the last few weeks. I’m sorry I haven’t called.” And then he had an idea. “If you like Mexican food, you’re welcome to join us for dinner tonight and a movie.” Maxine hesitated and looked tempted for a minute, and then decided to decline.

“I don’t want to intrude on your time with your daughter,” she said sensibly. “She might not like it,” and he suspected she was right.

“Dinner this week then, I’ll call you,” he promised, walked Maxine to her car, and carried the bags for her. He was happy they had run into her, it reminded him of the pleasant evening they’d had. And her recent silence proved Camille wrong again. If she’d been pursuing him, she’d have called him and she hadn’t. They were just casual friends, who happened to be in the same situation at the same time, which was their only bond, other than that they were both French. Camille was pleased to see that Maxine had disappeared when she found her father sitting on a bench and eating an ice cream cone after she came out of the drugstore.

“Where’s your friend?” she asked him, trying to sound casual about it.

“She went home to pick up some things. I invited her to spend the night tonight. I hope you don’t mind.” He looked totally bland as he said it and Camille stared at him in horror.

“You did what?” she nearly shrieked at him and he laughed.

“I thought that would get your attention. I have no idea where she is, she went home.”

“That isn’t funny, Papa. I thought you were serious for a minute.”

“You must think I’ve lost my mind. I hardly know the woman. I’ve seen her three times in my life.” But Camille still believed what she had told him in the first place, that the countess was a conniving woman, was after him, and had a plan of some kind that involved him. Christophe didn’t believe it for a minute, and there was no evidence of it whatsoever. But as he had promised her, he called Maxine the next day, and invited her out to dinner the following week. He didn’t tell Camille, because he didn’t want to hear her theories again, since he knew she was mistaken. She thought everyone was after him because he was her father, but so far none of the local women were pounding on his front door or falling at his feet, nor was Maxine. And he didn’t want them to. He needed time to heal, and he had no interest in another woman for now. He had promised to let Camille know when he did.

His dinner with Maxine that week was nothing out of the ordinary. They went out for a simple Italian dinner, and she said she was going to Dallas to visit friends for a few weeks, and to LA on the way back. She seemed excited about her trip, and he told her about an event they were planning at the winery. They held a big Memorial Day barbecue every year, with families invited. It marked the beginning of summer, and was always a happy event. It had originally been Joy’s idea, and they had been doing it for fifteen years. It was always a great success.

“I don’t think it’s your kind of thing,” he said to Maxine over dinner, “but you’re welcome to come. A lot of locals show up, and some visitors to the Valley. It’s from five in the afternoon until ten o’clock at night. It’s very informal, ribs and steaks and hamburgers.”

“It sounds like fun,” she said easily, and she’d be back from Dallas by then.

“I’ll send you an email to remind you,” and then he laughed. “I don’t have any engraved ‘pour mémoire’ cards with my crest on them,” he said apologetically, teasing her, “just an email.”

“That will be fine.” She smiled. He dropped her off at her house early that night, and other than a brief email exchange to thank him for dinner, and to invite her to the Memorial Day barbecue, they had no contact for a month. He hadn’t even thought about her, and was suddenly reminded when she walked into the party on Memorial Day weekend, wearing white jeans, a turquoise silk T-shirt, and sandals, and she had on turquoise jewelry to go with it. She always looked striking. She was dressed more for the South of France than a Memorial Day barbecue in the Napa Valley, and Camille was surprised to see her but didn’t comment. Maxine and her father didn’t seem to be dating, so she had stopped worrying about it.

By nine o’clock, after he’d circulated among the guests for four hours, and done his duty as a host, Christophe sat on a bench with Maxine in the winery garden, and they had a glass of wine, and talked about what they’d been doing over the past month. It sounded like she’d had fun in Dallas and LA, but she said she was happy to be back. And he was glad to see her. He was surprised to realize he had missed her, and they chatted animatedly in French until the end of the party. The country music band they’d hired was just finishing their last set when they stood up.

“Let’s have dinner this week,” he suggested, she agreed, and then he told her about the big wine auction that happened in the Valley every year in the first week of June, and asked her if she’d like to go with him.

“I’d love that,” she said, with a look of pleasure.

“I’ll email you the info,” he said simply. It was nice having another human to do things with. He was so lonely without Joy. And he couldn’t rely on Camille all the time. She needed time to herself too.

The wine auction was held in a tent at Meadowood, just under a thousand people attended, and they raised approximately fifteen million dollars every year, for community health care and children’s education. It was a well-run event, for the good of the community, and he was glad that Maxine wanted to attend with him. She said she’d heard about it, and was excited to go.

Maxine reciprocated for the wine auction by inviting him to a party she was going to on the Fourth of July weekend. It was being given by a group of Swiss vintners who had a relatively new winery that Christophe hadn’t seen yet, and was curious about. The Swiss vintners had just moved to the Valley. Christophe accepted her invitation with pleasure, and they both chatted and were animated about upcoming events. It was going to make the beginning of summer more interesting and fun for both of them.

Maxine was fascinated by the wine auction when they attended it. Christophe asked Camille to join them, but she’d been many times and didn’t want to go this year. He introduced Maxine to many of the important vintners, and members of the social Old Guard, and the auction made a record-breaking sixteen million dollars. Maxine bid successfully on six cases of Christophe’s wines, and he thanked her for her support.

After the wine auction, which was livelier than they’d expected, and got them off to a great start, they had dinner together once a week. And they’d been invited to two other parties on the holiday weekend, one each, and they agreed to go together. It sounded like a busy weekend. This was going to be his first Fourth of July without Joy, and he wanted to keep moving and be occupied so he didn’t get depressed about it.

In the past, they had always given a dinner for their friends at the château, and Camille thought he should still do it, but she wouldn’t be there since she was going to Lake Tahoe to stay with an old school friend, and Christophe didn’t want to entertain by himself, his heart wasn’t in it. He had decided that this year he’d rather go to other people’s parties with Maxine. There was no history there of a social gathering he and his wife had given for years. It was simpler and less emotional to do something new.

The dinner they went to together at the Swiss winery was very elegant, and Maxine knew a number of people there, as did Christophe, mostly Europeans, Italian, Swiss, and French. They had a pleasant evening, and enjoyed talking to the people at their table. Everyone spoke French all through dinner, the group was sophisticated and the dinner went late. Maxine had worn a white lace dress with a flesh colored bodysuit under it, and she had caused a sensation when they walked in. Christophe wasn’t used to being the center of attention with the woman he was with. Several people assumed that they were married, and referred to Maxine as his wife. He gently corrected them each time and said that he and Maxine were friends, and the other men looked at him with envy. He didn’t see it that way, but she was a very desirable woman, and other men responded to it immediately.

The second party they went to was a big Fourth of July picnic at the Marshalls’. There were a hundred and fifty people there, with a band, and Christophe noticed that Sam’s congresswoman was there. He had invited Christophe, and looked surprised when he showed up with Maxine, although he’d called the winery office to say he was bringing her. Sam never seemed enthusiastic about seeing her, but he was happy to see his friend. And Christophe got the chance to have a long conversation with Sam’s date, Elizabeth Townsend, the congresswoman from LA, and found that he liked her immensely. She was a real person, and he could tell that she was fond of Sam, but she admitted readily that politics was her life and the main event for her. She had never married or had children, and said she had no regrets about it. She loved the time she spent with Sam, but she knew that sooner or later he would get tired of how busy and unavailable she was, and she spent a lot of time in Washington when Congress was in session.

In a moment of confidence, she told Christophe that her relationships always had expiration dates, and at some point, the men got tired of waiting around for her, and the romance would inevitably end. She was happy that Sam hadn’t gotten to that stage yet, but she was sure that he would. It was why she never invested herself too deeply, or made any long-term commitments, but Sam looked happy with her while Christophe watched them dance. She was a warm, positive, extremely bright woman, and she was good for him, even though she didn’t come to Napa often. But she’d said he visited her in LA and DC occasionally when they both had free time.

Christophe took Maxine out on the dance floor then, and they stayed there for a long time. It was a very different evening from the more formal night before at the Swiss winery, but the contrast kept the weekend interesting for both of them, and on Sunday night, they went to a very chic dinner at the home of a couple Maxine had met recently. They had just bought a beautiful Victorian house, and were looking to buy a winery. They were another of what Christophe referred to as the “accidental vintners,” who treated it more like a hobby than a business, and all they needed were good people to run it. But the house was very pretty, and it was a pleasant evening, though not as exciting as the two evenings before. It was the kind of dinner party Christophe usually avoided, with hours of small talk, while people bragged about their houses, planes, and boats.

Maxine could see that he wasn’t having fun, and they went back to her place to sit by the pool and have a drink. It was a beautiful warm night beneath a starry sky, with a full moon, as Maxine sipped champagne, and he smiled at her in the moonlight. She was wearing a pale green silk jumpsuit, and looked long and lean as she lay on the deck chair chatting with him. The scene reminded him of an Italian movie.

“Well, we certainly had a busy weekend,” he commented, as she nodded.

“You’re not tired of me by now?” she asked him. Three nights with the same man or woman, when you weren’t dating or married, seemed like a lot, but Christophe had appeared to enjoy himself. He liked being with Maxine, and sitting quietly at her pool with her at the end of the evening. She looked at him with a slow smile after he told her how much he’d enjoyed the weekend. He didn’t want to say that he was getting comfortable with her, but that was the case. “Do you want to go for a swim?” she asked him. “I have some spare bathing suits in the pavilion, if you want one, or we don’t need to bother if you don’t care.” She seemed very relaxed about her body, and she was beautiful, so she had nothing to hide or be ashamed of, but he was modest enough to want to wear a bathing suit, and headed to the pavilion at the end of the pool to change. He liked the idea of a swim before he went home. It sounded like a great idea to him.

He left his clothes in the changing room, took off his watch, and left it in his shoe, and he was back a few minutes later in a pair of navy blue swimming trunks that still had the ticket on, so he knew they were new. He didn’t see her at first. She had turned the lights off around them, and then he saw her at the far end of the pool, with her dark hair streaming behind her, swimming underwater. He dove in at the deep end and swam toward her, keeping an eye on where she was, so he didn’t bump into her, and when she sliced through the water next to him, he realized that the bathing suit he thought he’d seen was the tan lines from her bikini. She was naked next to him in the water, came to the surface gracefully, and treaded water near him. He didn’t comment on her nudity, and tried to look nonchalant about it, but his body betrayed him almost instantly. It had been nine months since he’d seen a naked woman, and years since he’d seen one as enticing as she was, when things were still exciting between him and Joy, and she wasn’t sick. And there was something forbidden and almost wicked about Maxine as she wound herself gracefully around him without a word and kissed him, while his body pounded for her, and he couldn’t stop himself. She did nothing to stop him, on the contrary, she guided him into her, and moaned softly, as they moved as one toward the steps, and lay on them as he made love to her, with every ounce of desire he had repressed for months and denied himself.

All he wanted now was Maxine, and he couldn’t get enough of her. He made love to her again and again, in the moonlight, and then they scampered naked to her bedroom, still dripping wet, and made love again on her bed. He felt as though he had been hit by a tidal wave, as she walked across her bedroom afterward and lit a cigarette, in all her naked beauty while he watched her, and she stood smiling at him as she exhaled the smoke.

“Oh my God…what happened…I’m sorry…” he said, wondering what had come over him. He couldn’t even say he was drunk, because he wasn’t. He was drunk on her and looked dazed.

“What are you sorry about?” she asked, as she sauntered slowly back to him, teasing him with her body. Just looking at her aroused him again, he felt as though she had cast a spell on him. He had never known any woman like her, not even Joy. Sex with her had been loving and tender and sensual, even erotic at times. Sex with Maxine was insane, and only made him want more. “Isn’t that what you wanted to happen, Christophe? I did. I could hardly keep my hands off you this weekend. You’re a beautiful man, and a wonderful lover.” It was the physical that attracted her, not his heart or his soul, but that was exciting too.

She came back to bed then, after she put out the cigarette, and her lips found every inch of his body in all the ways he wanted. She read his mind, and knew exactly what he needed from her, and she needed the same from him. The forces between them were so powerful, he couldn’t speak for several minutes when they were finished. She had bitten his lip the last time she came, and he didn’t feel it, as she licked the blood off with her tongue. She was much more than elegant and experienced, she was a demon in a woman’s body and she knew what men wanted, what he wanted from her. They hadn’t slept all night when the sun came up, and then she rolled gently away from him, purred for an instant, and fell asleep while he watched her. She looked totally sated, content, and he thought of going home while she slept, but he didn’t want to leave her, ever again. He knew that as he lay next to her and fell asleep at last. It had been the most exotic night of his life.

She was up and dressed when he woke up in her bed, with the sheets tangled around him, and she handed him a cup of coffee with a tender expression. He smiled as he took it from her, still looking dazed. He had been tantalized by her all night. She was like a drug.

“Interesting dreams, my darling?” she asked him and sat down on the edge of the bed, while he sat up and sipped the coffee. He didn’t know what to say.

“That was quite a night,” he said, still in awe of her, seeing her naked in the water had aroused him as nothing else ever had, and their lovemaking all night had been alternately violent and gentle. He felt confused as he gazed at her. “Maxine, I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” he said, thinking of Joy, but Maxine was the more powerful memory now, and the woman he wanted, not his wife.

“You were ready last night,” she said in a husky voice, and he couldn’t deny it.

“It’s true, but having said that, it’s too soon to be involved with anyone else, out of respect for Joy and our marriage.”

“She’s gone, Christophe…just like Charles. I can understand that you don’t want anyone to know until the year mark, and especially your daughter. But why deprive us?” She made it sound so simple and so sensible that it even sounded reasonable to him. “No one needs to know what we’re doing. We don’t have to tell anyone. This is just between us.” As she said it, she took the cup from him and set it down on the table next to the bed, ran her hands the length of his body, and then gently put her lips around him, and within seconds, he wanted her again, and without saying a word he took her, and plunged into her, making sure not to be too rough with her, but she sat astride him and rode him hard, and then teased him until he grabbed her again, and they both came. He felt as though he couldn’t stop, and he lay on the bed drained afterward and knew that whatever this was that had been born between them the night before, he needed it with every ounce of his being, and he couldn’t give her up. And she was right. Joy was gone. They weren’t hurting anyone, and no one needed to know. The secret was theirs to share now, like a gift.