Within minutes everyone was in bathing suits, diving off the boat into the water. They cavorted like kids, two of Sylvia's friends water-skied, and Gray noticed Adam on the Jet Ski with the niece astride behind him.
They swam and played until nearly two o'clock, and by then the crew had set out a fabulous buffet of seafood and pasta. They sat down to an enormous lunch, with Italian wine, and at four o'clock they were still at the table in animated conversation. Even Adam was forced to be intelligent with Sylvia's niece—it turned out that she was studying political science in Paris, and was planning to enter a doctoral program. Like her aunt, she wasn't anyone to take lightly. Her father was the minister of culture, and her mother was a thoracic surgeon. Both of her brothers were doctors, she spoke five languages, and she was thinking of getting a law degree after her doctoral degree in political science. She was considering a career in politics. This was not a girl who wanted implants from him. She expected intelligent conversation, which came as a shock to Adam. He wasn't used to women her age being as direct as she was, or as serious about their studies. Charlie laughed at him as he walked by—she was discussing foreign money markets, and Adam looked nervous. She had him on his toes, or on the ropes, as he ruefully admitted later. He was no match for her, despite her age.
Sylvia and Gray spent the afternoon discussing art, interminably, much to their delight. They went from one period of history to another, drawing parallels between politics and art. Charlie watched them all with fatherly pleasure, making sure that his crew was making them feel at home on the boat, and that his guests had everything they wanted.
The day was so beautiful that they decided to stay and have dinner on the boat, at Charlie's invitation. It was nearly midnight before they motored slowly closer to the port, after stopping for a moonlight swim on the way back. For once, Gray and Sylvia stopped talking about art, and just enjoyed the water. She was a powerful swimmer, and seemed capable in all things she did, whether athletics or art. Gray had never met a woman like her. They swam back to the boat, as he found himself wishing he was in better shape than he was. It wasn't something he thought about often. But she was extremely fit, and scarcely out of breath as they got back on board. For a woman her age, or even a younger one, she looked great in a bikini, but she seemed unaware of herself around him, unlike her niece, who had been flirting relentlessly with Adam. Her aunt made no comment, she was well aware of the fact that her niece was a grown woman, and was free to do whatever she wanted. Sylvia wasn't in the habit of running anyone else's life. Her niece could run her own.
Before they left, Sylvia asked Gray if he'd like to go to San Giorgio with her the following morning. She had been there often before, but loved seeing it again and again. She said she saw something new each time she went there. He accepted readily, and agreed to meet her in the port at ten. There was nothing coy about her invitation to him, it was simply a bond between two art lovers. She said they were leaving the day after, and Gray was happy for a chance to see her again.
“What nice people,” Charlie commented after they left, and Adam and Gray agreed with him. It had been a terrific day and evening. The conversations had been fascinating, the swimming fun, the food plentiful, and their new friends an unusually intelligent, attractive lot. “I notice Sylvia's niece isn't spending the night. Did you strike out on that one?” Charlie teased him, and Adam looked chagrined.
“I'm not sure I'm smart enough to pull that off. That girl makes my education at Harvard look like high school. Once we got off the subject of law, torts in the American judicial system, and constitutional law, as opposed to the French legal system, I felt like a total dummy. I damn near forgot to put the make on her, and when I thought of it, by then I was exhausted. She can run rings around any guy I've ever met. She should be dating one of my Harvard law professors, not me.” In a funny way, she had reminded him a little of Rachel when they were young, she was so damn smart, graduating from Harvard Law School summa cum laude, and the similarity had turned him off. He had decided not to pursue her, it was too much work, and he had long since forgotten half the things she asked him. She had fenced with him intellectually all day and night, and he liked it and found it challenging, but in the end, it made him feel tired and old. His mind just didn't work that way anymore. It was easier to buy girls implants and new noses than to try and wrestle with their brains. It made him feel slightly inferior to her, which left his ego somewhat deflated, and wasn't exactly an aphrodisiac for him. Unlike Gray, who had loved his conversations with her aunt, and felt invigorated by the information they'd shared, and the things he'd learned from her. Sylvia was extremely knowledgeable on many subjects, though mainly art, which was her passion, just as it was his. But Gray didn't want to have sex with her, although he found her beautiful and appealing. All he wanted was to get to know her better, and talk to her, for as many hours as he could. He was thrilled they'd met.
The three men shared a last glass of wine on the deck before they smoked cigars and went to their cabins, happy and relaxed after a fun day on the boat. They had no plans for the next day, and Adam and Charlie said they were going to sleep late. Gray was already excited about meeting Sylvia to visit the church. He mentioned it to Charlie on their way downstairs, and his host looked pleased. He knew Gray led a lonely life, and thought she'd be a good friend for him, and a useful person for him to know. He had struggled for so long with his art, and was so talented, Charlie hoped he'd get a break one of these days, and was hopeful Sylvia could introduce him to the right people in the art scene in New York. She might not be a potential romance for him, or the kind of woman he was attracted to, but he thought she'd make a great friend. He had enjoyed talking to her himself. She was cultured and knowledgeable, without being pompous or pretentious about it. He thought she was a very nice woman, and he was surprised she wasn't linked to any of the men in the group. She was the kind of woman a lot of men would have been attracted to, especially Europeans, although she was a good fifteen years older than the women Charlie went out with, even though she was barely three years older than he. Life wasn't fair that way, he knew, particularly in the States. Women in their twenties and thirties were at a premium, it was all about youth. A woman Sylvia's age was a specialty, and would only appeal to a rare few, and only then to a man who was not threatened by how smart and capable she was. The kind of girls Adam went out with were generally considered a lot more desirable, in most cases, than a woman of substance and intellect like Sylvia. Charlie knew that there were a lot of women like her in New York who were just too damn smart and successful for their own good, and wound up alone. Although for all he knew there was a man waiting for her in New York or Paris or somewhere else. But he doubted it. She put out a vibe that suggested she was independent and unattached, and liked it that way. It didn't seem to bother her at all, and she was obviously not on the make, for them, or anyone. Charlie had shared his assessment of her with Gray over cigars the night before.
The next morning, as they walked up the hill to San Giorgio, Gray discovered that Charlie's thoughts about Sylvia were correct.
“You're not married?” Gray asked her cautiously, curious about her, as well as what she knew about the church. She was an interesting woman, and he wanted to be her friend.