“And you think that will sell?”
Bruce laughed and said, “My, my, you’ve become quite mercenary in the past month. You came here with literary ambitions and now you’re dreaming of royalties.”
“I don’t want to go back to the classroom, Bruce, and it’s not like I’m being chased by a lot of colleges right now. I have nothing, nothing but ten thousand dollars, courtesy of you and my dear Tessa’s sticky fingers. I need to either sell some books or quit writing.”
“Yes, it will sell. You mentioned The Paris Wife, a fine story about Hadley and Hemingway in those days, and it sold very well. You’re a beautiful writer, Mercer, and you can pull it off.”
She smiled and took a sip of wine and said, “Thanks. I need the encouragement.”
“Don’t we all?”
They ate in silence for a few moments. Bruce held up his glass and looked at the wine. “You like the Chablis?”
“It’s delicious.”
“I love wine, almost too much. For lunch, though, it’s a bad habit. It really slows down the afternoon.”
“That’s why they invented siestas,” she said helpfully, easing him along.
“Indeed. I have a little apartment on the second floor, sort of behind the coffee bar, and it’s the perfect spot for the post-lunch nap.”
“Is this an invitation, Bruce?”
“Could be.”
“Is that your best pickup line — ‘Hey, baby, join me for a nap’?”
“It’s worked before.”
“Well, it’s not working now.” She glanced around and touched the corners of her mouth with the napkin. “I don’t sleep with married men, Bruce. I mean, I have, on two occasions, and neither was particularly enjoyable. Married men have baggage I don’t care to deal with. Plus, I know Noelle and I like her a lot.”
“I assure you she doesn’t care.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He was smiling, almost chuckling, as if she had no idea what she was talking about and he would be pleased to enlighten her. He, too, glanced around to make sure no one could possibly hear. He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Noelle is in France, in Avignon, and when she goes there she stays in her apartment, one she’s had for many years. Just down the street is a much larger apartment owned by Jean-Luc, her friend. Jean-Luc is married to an older woman with plenty of money. Jean-Luc and Noelle have been close for at least ten years. In fact, she met him before I met her. They do their siestas, have dinner, hang out, even travel together when his old wife says it’s okay.”
“So his wife approves?”
“Of course. They’re French. It’s all quiet and discreet and very civilized.”
“And you don’t mind? This is really bizarre.”
“No, I don’t mind at all. That’s just the way it is. You see, Mercer, I knew many years ago that I’m simply not cut out for monogamy. I’m not sure any human really is, but I won’t argue that. By the time I got to college I realized that there are a lot of beautiful women out there and there’s no way I can be happy with just one. I’ve tried the relationship thing, been through five or six girlfriends, but nothing has ever worked because I can’t resist another beautiful woman, regardless of her age. Luckily, I found Noelle, because she feels the same way about men. Her marriage blew up years ago because she had a boyfriend on the side and was sleeping with her doctor.”
“So you struck a deal?”
“We didn’t shake hands, but by the time we decided to get married we knew the rules. The door is wide open, just be discreet.”
Mercer shook her head and looked away. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never met a couple with such an arrangement.”
“I’m not sure it’s that unusual.”
“Oh, I promise you it’s very unusual. You just think it’s normal because you’re doing it. Look, I caught a boyfriend cheating one time and it took me a year to get over it. I still hate him.”
“I rest my case. You take it too serious. What’s a little fling now and then?”
“A fling? Your wife has been sleeping with her French boyfriend for at least a decade. You call that a fling?”
“No, that’s more than a fling, but Noelle doesn’t love him. That’s all about companionship.”
“I’ll say. So the other night when Sally Aranca was in town, was that a fling or companionship?”
“Neither, both, who cares? Sally comes through once a year and we have some fun. Call it whatever you want.”
“What if Noelle had been here?”
“She doesn’t care, Mercer, listen to me. If you called Noelle right now and told her we’re doing lunch and talking about having a nap and what does she think about it, I promise Noelle would laugh and say, ‘Hey, I’ve been gone for two weeks, what’s taking so long?’ You want to call her?”
“No.”
Bruce laughed and said, “You’re too uptight.”
Mercer had never thought of herself as being uptight; in fact she thought she was fairly laid-back and accepting of most anything. But at the moment she felt like a prude and hated it. “No, I’m not.”
“Then let’s hop in the sack.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t be that casual about it.”
“Fine. I’m not pushing. I just offered a little nap, that’s all.”
Both chuckled, but the tension was palpable. And they knew the conversation was not over.
6.
It was dark when they met at the beach end of the cottage boardwalk. The tide was low and the beach was wide and empty. The brightness of a full moon shimmered across the ocean. Elaine was barefoot, and Mercer kicked off her sandals. They walked to the edge of the water and strolled along, just a couple of old friends having a chat.
As instructed, Mercer was being thorough with her nightly e-mails, down to the details of what she was reading and trying to write. Elaine knew almost everything, though Mercer had not mentioned Cable’s efforts to get her in bed. Maybe later, depending on what might happen.
“When did you get to the island?” Mercer asked.
“This afternoon. We’ve spent the last two days at the office with our team, all of our experts — tech guys, operations people, even my boss, the owner of the company.”
“You have a boss?”
“Oh yes. I’m directing this project, but my boss will make the final decisions, when we get there.”
“Get where?”
“Not sure right now. This is week number six, and, frankly, we’re not sure what’s next. You’ve been magnificent, Mercer, and your progress in the first five weeks has been nothing less than astonishing. We are very pleased. But now that we have the photos and videos, and now that you’ve worked your way into Cable’s circle, we’re debating our next move. Our confidence level is pretty high, but we have a ways to go.”
“We’ll get there.”
“We adore your confidence.”
“Thanks,” Mercer said flatly, tired of the praise. “A question. I’m not sure it’s wise to pursue the ploy of this novel about Zelda and Hemingway. It just seems too convenient, with Cable sitting on the Fitzgerald manuscripts. Are we on the right track?”
“But the novel was his idea.”
“Maybe it’s his bait, his way of testing me.”
“Do you have any reason to believe he might suspect you?”
“Not really. I’ve been able to spend time with Bruce and I think I can read him. He’s very bright, quick, and charismatic, and he’s also an honest guy who’s easy to talk to. He may be deceptive with some of his business, but not when he’s dealing with his friends. He can be brutally honest and he doesn’t suffer fools, but there’s a sweetness to him that’s genuine. I like him, Elaine, and he likes me and wants to get closer. If he’s suspicious, I think I would know it.”