Don’t do this, Abby. Don’t be a fool.
Gabrielle led her through the beamed common rooms. She found the restored nineteenth-century farmhouse warm and inviting. They went upstairs to the bedrooms. Each had a mini fridge filled with drinks, and every room had a basket filled with fruit and Swiss chocolate.
Abby chose a room that looked out over the vineyard to the west. She could see the estate workers. One of them was probably Louis. Of course there was no sign of Raoul.
“If you need anything, pick up the bedside phone and ring the château. I’ll answer. Your friends know to come straight to the farmhouse. Your breakfast will be laid out at seven every morning in the dining room.”
Abby turned to Gabrielle. “Everything is perfect. Will it be all right to open the window? I love the fragrance coming from the vineyard.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.”
“De rien. À tout à l’heure, mademoiselle.”
AFTER GABRIELLE LEFT, Abby undid the lever and pushed the window open. The smell was divine. She unpacked her suitcase. With that done she put her purse and laptop on a round table in the corner around which several upholstered chairs had been arranged.
The bathroom contained every amenity. Once she’d refreshed herself and put on her frosted tangerine-colored lipstick, she went downstairs and walked outside.
There was no point in lying to herself. While Abby waited for the girls, she felt compelled to see Raoul again and couldn’t understand it. What was it about him? How could he create all these feelings and yearnings roiling inside of her in one short meeting?
Again, she had to question her sanity after what she’d experienced with Nigel. But she’d never felt like this with him. Not even close. Their attraction had grown over time with mutual interests.
Nothing could match this violent explosion of feelings that had made her heart trip over itself from the moment Raoul got out of the old Renault and walked toward her. The Frenchman had caused her to forget the lesson she’d thought she’d learned following Nigel’s treachery.
Something was definitely wrong with her. It scared her that she was so drawn to him. Afraid of her feelings, Abby ran back toward the farmhouse and waited in front to watch for her friends.
She checked her watch. Since boarding the train, time had gotten away from her. It said 5:00 p.m. Concerned at this point, she pulled out her cell to call them. But just then she saw a dark red car pull up. She put the phone away and ran toward them.
“You’re here at last!”
Her friends got out and both hugged Abby. Zoe smiled at her. “You look great!”
“So you do you guys.”
“Sorry we’re so late, but nothing’s perfect.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m thankful we’re all here in one piece.”
“Obviously you were picked up at the station.”
An image of Raoul flashed through her mind, causing her body to melt like butter in the sun. “Their Realtor picked me up.”
Ginger eyed her. “What Realtor is that?”
“Why don’t we drive to the cheese fondue restaurant Magda told us about and I’ll tell you everything. But first let’s get you settled.”
When the girls heard the news about Auguste, they would feel as sad as she had. Abby decided that it would be better to prolong their happiness by eating first. “Sounds great.”
The three of them hugged again. She helped carry their things inside and led them up the stairs. “You have your choice of four rooms.”
Zoe entered a room with an antique armoire and declared it her home away from home. Her dark blond hair worn in a windblown style had new highlights streaked by the sun while she’d been in Greece. With her azure blue eyes she was a knockout.
Abby’s friends were both attractive. Ginger’s gray eyes combined with her cap of black curls made her look French. She could be taken for a movie star. They inspected the other three rooms and she chose one that looked out on the lake. After opening her window, Ginger turned to them.
“I’m starving, you guys. We had to wait forever for the car. I say we unpack later and go eat!”
“You won’t get an argument out of me.” Abby ran to her bedroom for her purse and hurried outside with the girls.
Since Ginger had done the negotiating, she was the designated driver. That was fine with Abby who kept her eyes glued for any sign of Raoul, but he didn’t make an appearance. She should be thankful, not crushed that she might never see him again.
Determined to put him out of her mind, she sat back, resigned to enjoy the bucolic scenery. But that was easier said than done. Raoul’s image wouldn’t leave her mind.
Zoe served as navigator and pulled the directions Magda had given them out of her purse. “We have to drive to the small village of Chexbres, which according to Magda is seven hundred feet above the lake. We should pass through the most important Swiss wine region. Apparently their main product is a table grape wine.”
“The Swiss call it chasselas,” Abby added her two cents. She loved the sound of the word. “I’ve learned a lot about it while I’ve been working here.”
They drove higher, gasping over the landscape. “You guys—” Ginger cried out. “Look at those rows of grape vines going up that steep hill! It’s amazing!”
“That’s why they have to be terraced,” Abby explained. “Sometimes they use pulleys and have to be irrigated because the Rhône valley can get warm and dry here.”
Zoe had opened her window. “I love this climate. Smell that air. Delicious.”
Her comment reminded Abby of those moments with Raoul when he’d told her about the fragrance from the flowers at La Floraison. Nature truly was remarkable to have created a man like him, but she kept that memory to herself.
They continued to drive until they reached the town of Chexbres with its magnificent view. “There it is! The Lion d’Or.” Ginger pulled over to the curb near the restaurant and they went inside for a feast of cheese fondue eaten with French bread.
Their hunger was at a pitch and they ate every morsel of bread accompanied by goblets of chasselas.
“Before we plan what we’re going to do tomorrow, tell us about this Realtor who picked you up. You’ve been kind of quiet about that.”
Abby looked at Zoe. The time had come. “I have something important to tell you guys. It came as a shock to me.”
“What?” Ginger asked.
“Magda’s friend Auguste, the owner of the château, died last month.”
Both girls fell back into their seats. “What?”
“I think the man who came to get me must be a Realtor because he’s been here selling the estate. His name is Raoul Decorvet. We’ve been allowed to stay on until the end of June when the new owner takes possession. It’s Magda’s wish.”
Ginger frowned. “You’re kidding! She never said anything. We can’t go on living here now. It wouldn’t be right.” Zoe shook her head in agreement.
Abby knew that would be the girls’ reaction. “I feel the same way. Since we’re in Europe, where would