“That’s very kind of you.”
Like Laura, Chantelle had dressed in a white knit top and matching shorts. She looked cool and perfectly beautiful. Laura’s heart felt a wrench to realize that beneath her facade lived an emotionally frozen woman.
“These croissants melt in your mouth.”
Chantelle flashed her an unexpected smile. “I’ll tell the chef.”
Laura chuckled. “To be honest, I feel like I’m in fantasyland.”
“I’ve been there.”
“I know. I tended little Paul while you and Raoul walked around Disneyland. You have no idea how much I envied you your wonderful husband and son. Yours was the kind of marriage I wanted one day.”
When Chantelle didn’t respond to her remarks Laura said, “Actually I’m talking about a completely different place. Your home is a fantasyland—out of this world. Those rose beds are so perfect. You must have the best gardeners on the Côte d’Azur.”
“Before my accident, I did all the weeding myself. Now I have to tell them how to do their job. They miss too many.”
“Let me do it while I’m here—” she blurted.
Chantelle cocked her dark head. “You like gardening?”
“I remember talking to you about the grandmother who raised me, but I probably didn’t mention that we lived in a little forties bungalow in Manhattan Beach. She loved flowers and had me out working alongside her when I was just a girl. It was the one job I loved most, probably because it was outside.”
“Is she still alive?”
“No. She died eight years ago. I kept up the yard until I got married. My husband convinced me to sell it. I haven’t done any gardening since.”
Laura wouldn’t have listened to Ted except that a developer was planning to buy the whole strip of houses around there and build a mall. The price being offered was better than what an individual buyer might pay for it. That had been Ted’s reasoning at the time.
After she had reluctantly sold it, the project had fallen through, but she had a feeling Ted had known it would. He just didn’t want her holding on to her memories. Everything to do with him had been a mistake.
Not liking the direction of her thoughts, she munched on the chilled honeydew melon, her favorite.
Chantelle eyed her over the rim of her coffee. “If you’re serious about the weeding, be my guest.”
“I already am.” They both smiled at the same time. “It would make me very happy to get out there so I can feel useful. My hands are itching to dig into the soil.”
“I know the feeling.”
How sad that Chantelle could admit to such a thing, yet she refused to act on it.
“Tomorrow I’ll ask the gardener to bring you some gloves and the things you’ll need.”
“Thank you.”
“I believe there’s an artist in anyone who loves gardening. After you’ve finished eating, may I see what you’ve been sketching?”
Guy had hoped Laura would draw his wife out, but so far Chantelle was the one forcing Laura to open up.
“I’ll show you now.” She reached for the pad and handed it to her.
After Chantelle flipped the cover over, a soft gasp escaped her lips. She studied the top page, then began thumbing through the others. Finally she raised her head. Her eyes were shining. For just a moment, she was like the old Chantelle.
“You’ve captured the whole Palio—the people…the costumes…the horses…the city—You’re a genius!”
“No—”
“Indeed you are. What medium do you work with when you make these life-size? Oil? Watercolor?”
“Neither. I studied graphic design in college. After I graduated, I went to work for a video game company in California. My job is to provide interesting backgrounds for games which other people in the company develop.”
“Video games? Like the ones my son plays, much to my disgust?”
“I’m afraid so,” Laura admitted. “The technology is so advanced, the industry has taken off. With my pencil I create backgrounds for all ages. This one on the Palio will be used as a horse race obviously. Each horse and rider runs through a separate part of the town with many obstacles to overcome. My job is to find unusual places that suggest games to me.”
“Where else have you been?” Chantelle actually sounded interested and Laura could glimpse shades of her former self.
“Two months ago I spent a week in Hamlin, Germany, to create a background for a children’s game. It’s an adorable town with a lot of carvings. My grandmother read me all the fairy tales. One of my favorites was ‘The Pied Piper.’ I came up with the idea of him leading all the children out of the town and the player has to prevent them from following him by using various methods that take a certain amount of skill.
“After leaving there I went to Holland for a week to sketch the windmills and old gabled houses for another game about stopping the holes in the dikes.”
Chantelle shook her head. “But this is remarkable! You are remarkable!”
“No, but I must admit it’s a lot of fun to get paid a commission for doing something I love. In between times, I still work part-time as a lifeguard at the beach. As you can imagine, I’ve done the sketches for an underwater video game for children. It involves a merman.” An image of Raoul in the pool suddenly flashed into her mind, causing her to take an extra breath.
“When do you have time to see your husband?”
At the mention of Ted, Laura shuddered. “My two-year marriage failed almost from the start, Chantelle. He’s an attorney from a political family, but he assured me he wasn’t interested in politics. I told him I didn’t want to be married to a politician and put him off for a long time until I was convinced he meant it.
“A few months into our marriage I learned he’d always planned to run for Congress. Everything had been a lie. He didn’t love me, all he wanted was to parade me in front of people, something I abhor.
“Six months ago, after I learned he’d been with other women, I found the strength to leave him and file for divorce. He’s refusing to give me one, but in time I’ll get it and he won’t have a choice.”
“Bravo!” Chantelle exclaimed. “Once a liar, always a liar.” She said it with such vehemence, Laura had the idea Chantelle was speaking from personal experience. But surely it wasn’t anything to do with Guy….
“In Ted’s case it’s true.” Her gaze flicked to her hostess. “He’s nothing like your husband, who absolutely adores you.”
The second the words left her lips, the atmosphere changed. Chantelle handed her back the sketchpad.
Laura couldn’t bear the thought that Guy might have lied about something that could have hurt his wife so profoundly. In fact she refused to believe it. “Has he left for his office, or will he be joining you?”
“He’s in his study on a conference call.”
“Lucky you to have him at home.” Whether it irked Chantelle or not, Laura had said it. “What are your plans today?”
“I’m having my massage in a half hour, then my hair done. Later I plan to do some reading out here.”
“Mind if I sketch while you read? The rose garden, in fact your whole villa with that maze around the back, has given me an idea for a children’s game, but only with your permission of course.”