Love Far Away: 2 Page 2

  Becca looked at me. “Jules?” she asked. “What do you think about Monte Carlo?”

  I looked at the map. Sun, sand, drinks, casino, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous.... “I think it sounds amazing,” I said.

  ***

  So it was settled. We found a hotel in Monte Carlo that afternoon and booked it for the next night, with the help of our hotel’s concierge. They helped us with train reservations too, booking four first class tickets on the high speed train that left the next day shortly after noon. We went out for one last boozy dinner in Paris, but this time passed on staying out partying until five in the morning. I hoped that the next hotel had a bed as soft as this one.

  “Au revoir, Paris,” said Megan wistfully, as the taxi dropped us off at Gare Lyon the next day.

  “Who cares about pastries and museums- drinking and gambling and hanging out on the beach all day is way more my style,” Ashley breezed in to the station. “Come on, let’s grab a drink before we catch the train.”

  “Isn’t it kind of soon to start day drinking?” asked Becca.

  “Isn’t day drinking the reason we go on vacation?” Ashley replied.

  Becca rolled her eyes, but the four of us did grab a quick drink at one of the bars inside the station while we waited for the train. I had a quick look around a newsstand and was able to find a copy of an English fashion magazine, which I bought for the trip. I didn’t know if Ashley intended to continue drinking on the train ride, but I wasn’t sure I could keep up with her pace- or if I even wanted to. The other night I’d lost control and I didn’t like that feeling. I wasn’t going to have a repeat of that situation. I could still let loose and have fun, but I wasn’t going to get carried away like that again.

  Finally, it was time to board our train. We stashed our luggage in the compartments at the end of the train and settled in to the wide, comfortable seats. We had two seats facing another two seats, with a table set up in the middle. “I hope they serve drinks on here,” said Ashley, setting her purse down in one seat.

  We settled in to our seats for the trip down to Monte Carlo. We had all been pretty skeptical when the concierge at our hotel insisted on the train, saying it was how all the French traveled around the country. We were used to flying longer distances. But as the train pulled out of the station and I relaxed in my comfortable seat, looked out the window at the passing views, and didn’t have any screaming babies or sweaty men right up in my face, I decided that this was a pretty comfortable way to travel. The trip was eight hours long, but we could get up, walk around to the dining car, and have a lot more space than we would have on an airplane.

  I dozed off for a while, and woke just as an announcement came over the speakers that we were now approaching the Monaco - Monte Carlo station. My friends had also nodded off in their seats, some with headphones on. I reached over and shook Megan’s arm to wake her up. “They just announced our stop,” I said. “Monte Carlo is up next!”

  When the train finally stopped, we got off and struggled with our bags through the station until we came to a taxi stand outside. The driver quickly came out to help us put our bags in the trunk, and once again we all piled in together while he made the short drive to our hotel.

  “Ho-leee shit,” said Ashley, as we walked in to the lobby. I could feel myself staring too, and I tried my hardest not to look like an overwhelmed American tourist. The lobby was simple, yet elegantly decorated, but the thing that made our jaws drop was the wall of windows to one side. The hotel was directly on the water, and even after the sun had set the views were stunning.

  I handed over Bradley’s credit card to the woman at the front desk, and listened to her explain in her soft accent about the laundry service and the hotel spa and the various dining rooms and bars that the hotel offered. A bellman took our bags to the elevator and we followed suit up to our rooms. I’d once again booked two adjoining rooms, and after the bellman had been tipped we all crowded in to one room to look out the window at the view once again.

  “This is amazing,” said Becca. “Can you imagine living like this all the time?”

  “Let’s get dressed and go downstairs to check out the bar,” suggested Ashley. “Or, better yet, we go out to the casinos.”

  “Oh, let’s not do that tonight,” begged Megan. “I know that we just sat on a train all day, but I’m exhausted for some reason. Let’s just relax tonight, and tomorrow we’ll go out and have a look around and go to the casino in the evening. Okay?”

  “That sounds good to me,” I agreed.

  “Me too,” said Becca. “And, could we maybe do something tomorrow that doesn’t involve drinking?”

  “What’s the matter with you guys?” Ashley complained. “It’s not like we’re sitting around getting drunk all day. We’re in France! There’s nothing wrong with having a glass of wine with lunch.”

  “No, maybe not, but I just want to be able to explore without worrying about where the nearest bar is,” said Becca.

  Ashley frowned. “Fine. We don’t have to. I was just trying to make it a fun vacation, and to me, that includes indulging in a glass of wine when maybe I normally wouldn’t. What do you want to do, then?”

  “I have a couple ideas,” said Becca. “I read a guidebook and some brochures on the train. There are some nice old churches; some nice museums- a museum of oceanography, a museum of stamps; a wax museum of all the Princes of Monaco.”

  “Becca,” said Ashley, “I say this with love. But I did not come to the sun soaked capital of rich people gambling and driving fast cars and drinking on yachts to spend the day in a museum about postage stamps.”

  “Right,” said Becca. “Well, we could also rent scooters and go for a ride along the coast. I’m sure the concierge can suggest a destination for us.”

  “A ride along the coast sounds amazing,” I cut in, before Ashley could say anything. “That’s exactly what I want to do tomorrow!”

  “Ride along the coast it is, then,” said Megan, and Ashley agreed. We decided to get some rest before getting up early to set out on our adventure tomorrow, and Ashley and Becca went back to their adjoining room. Megan got her toothbrush out of her suitcase and went to get ready for bed.

  Alone, I looked out over the ocean and imagined what it might be like to live like this. To wake up to a view of the ocean every morning and know it was never going to end. There was something about this place, so different from my boring suburban town that made me feel alive. There was something good waiting around the corner for me, I just knew it.

  ***

  The next morning dawned sunny and clear, and I woke up in a great mood. We got dressed and headed down to the dining room for breakfast, then back to our room to get ready for the day out. Megan had her heart set on wearing a short, cute sundress until it was pointed out to her that it might not be a good fit with riding a scooter. Back down in the lobby, a concierge pulled out a map of the surrounding area and showed us a few different routes we could take, then he directed us to a shop that rented out scooters.

  “Ooh, let’s get motorcycles like this,” said Ashley, stroking the seat of a scary looking motor bike.

  “Are you nuts?” I asked her. “That thing looks so scary! I was thinking, like, one of those Vespas over there.” I pointed to a group of a few colorful scooters.

  “That looks like a child’s toy,” scoffed Ashley. “I think my ten year old niece has a scooter that looks like that.”

  “I think they’re adorable,” said Becca, wandering over to inspect the group of Vespas. “I want the pink one!”

  “I want the green one,” Megan chimed in.

  “I’ll take the yellow one,” I quickly put in.

  We all looked at Ashley.

  “Ugh, fine,” she said. “I’ll take that orange one over there.”

  We signed some waivers, got a quick lesson from the owner of the rental shop on how to drive the scooters, and handed over Bradley’s credit card to pay for it all. Then, after studying the m
ap and announcing she knew just the route to take us on a great ride along the coast; we set out in a line following Becca.

  I was nervous driving the scooter through the streets of the city of Monte Carlo, which were filled with fast cars and faster scooters and motorcycles driving with the kind of recklessness that the young and the rich specialize in. Fortunately, the city wasn’t very big and it wasn’t long before we were on the main road that wound along the coast, going as fast as we dared while sneaking glances over our shoulders to admire the view.

  It was stunning. I couldn’t think of any other words to describe it- the turquoise of the ocean, with the sun glinting off it, and the rocky coastline with million dollar villas dotting the scenery. I had never felt more alive as I did at that moment, keeping up with the traffic on my Vespa with nothing but one small helmet between me and certain death if I was hit by one of the many expensive sports cars on the road. We stuck to the main road for the most part, until Becca took an exit for a small village.

  We were on a smaller road now that was much quieter, and we could slow down a bit and even ride two abreast for a while. “This is amazing,” Megan yelled at me as she pulled up alongside. “I don’t even care that my hair is a mess!”

  “Do you know where Becca is taking us?” I yelled back.

  Becca, riding up ahead, overheard me. “It’s a surprise,” she shouted.

  It wasn’t long before we came to the small village she’d had in mind. We parked our Vespas and got off to explore. The village was absolutely charming- we ducked in to a few small art galleries and shops lining its narrow, steep streets to browse. Even though it was nowhere near lunchtime, we decided to stop in at a cafe for a quick break. “Remember, Ashley, no wine,” I reminded her. “Coffee only.”

  “As long as pastries aren’t forbidden too, that’s fine by me,” she said. We sat around a table on the sidewalk and gushed over the amazing views we’d seen on our way there as we sipped our coffees and indulged in yet more pastries.

  “So what’s up next, Bec?” asked Megan, dusting some crumbs off her fingers. “Are we going to stay here for a bit, or keep going?”

  “Well, there’s this old church that’s supposed to be amazing,” Becca began.

  Ashley groaned out loud. “Seriously?”

  “It dates back to the fourteenth century,” said Becca. “This village is really old. Historically, it-“

  “Okay, we get it,” said Ashley, pushing back her chair. “Let’s just look at this old church and then get back to the scooters. I could ride along the coast forever. This church had better be worth it.”

  “I’d like to see the church, Becca,” I put in, trying to make up for Ashley’s rudeness. Becca smiled at me gratefully.

  “It’s really supposed to be something special,” she said, as we left the cafe and followed her through the steep and twisting streets. My legs were starting to ache. “Honestly, Ash, I think you’ll be glad you- oh!”

  There was the church, and there was the south of France. Even Ashley was momentarily speechless as we stared at the view that stretched out beyond. We were at the top of a hill, and the view of the sea was breathtaking. It stretched out in front of us, glittering in the sun, spotted with yachts of the rich and famous.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “Becca. You are a genius for bringing us here.”

  Becca looked enormously pleased with herself. “It’s even better than the guidebook made it sound,” she said.

  “It’s amazing,” said Megan. “Okay, Bec, I trust you from now on to make all the decisions about the best places for us to visit.”

  Becca looked at Ashley. “Well?” she demanded. “What do you think of this church?”

  Ashley looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Becca,” she said. “I was being a pill. I’m sorry. I’m actually having a really great time this morning. You’re right, this old church was worth the hike.”

  Now that she had our trust, Becca had a spring in her step. We hung around the church for a bit longer, admiring the view, before going back to our Vespas. Becca next led us to another small village in the mountains above Monaco, where we stopped for lunch and gazed in awe at the panoramic views of Monte Carlo that spread below us. We could pick out our hotel, and the nearby casino, and admired the expensive yachts that filled the harbor.

  “That’s my new life goal, right there,” said Ashley, pointing to the yachts. “Own one of those bad boys. Or at least board one.”

  The ride back to our hotel was not nearly as charming and carefree as the ride there had been. If I thought I had been nervous before on the highway with all kinds of sports cars zipping along, it was nothing to the terror I felt going down a twisting mountain road on just a scooter. But somehow we all made it back in one piece. It felt like we had been gone for ages, but it was only half past three. Dinner was hours away, and whether we admitted it or not we were all a bit tired from a full day of being out riding in the sun, so we returned the scooters to the rental shop and headed back to the hotel to partake in the Mediterranean tradition of taking a nap in the afternoon before going to relax in the pool for a bit. We called the front desk to make reservations at one of the restaurants for dinner, and decided that afterwards, we’d head out to check out the casinos.

  I tried to give myself a pep talk as I floated in the rooftop pool. It was possible to go with the flow and not lose control. Last time, drinking too much had led me to sleep with Matthew. I wasn’t going to do anything tonight I’d end up regretting. It was just a fun trip with the girls, taking a break from real life. I wasn’t going to be jet setting around the south of France forever on my soon to be ex-husband’s backup credit card, so I might as well get as much out of the experience now as I could. Today had been amazing. Tonight could be just as good.

  Chapter Three

  Since our dinner reservation wasn’t until eight, we left the pool at six-thirty to get ready. It was like living in a college dorm again as we all took turns using the two showers and crowding around the large mirrors in the bathrooms. We pulled dresses out of our suitcases and decided what we should wear, and swapped accessories. I hadn’t felt this close to my friends in years, and realized that it was something else that had been missing from my life. I’d been so busy with Bradley and Henry and Olivia I hadn’t made it a priority to spend time with my friends. I’d missed them.

  We were making up for it now, though, with this vacation. The hotel had multiple restaurants, but we’d chosen the bistro for dinner tonight. The atmosphere there was impossibly chic, and I tried my best to blend in and not appear too much like a fish out of water. There wasn’t even a menu to choose from at this place, just a set menu. We showed up a few minutes early, to stopped by the bar for a drink before we were ushered to our table.

  “It’s too bad I wasn’t born rich,” Ashley lamented, looking around the luxurious dining room with its amazing views over the water. “Because I’m pretty sure this is the kind of life I was born to lead. I need to find a rich husband or win the lottery or something.”

  “I could definitely get used to this,” I agreed, looking out the window at the view while I sipped my drink. “Well, we’re headed to the casino tonight, aren’t we? Maybe one of us will hit the jackpot there!”

  “It’s more likely that I’ll leave five hundred euros poorer and wake up with a tequila hangover,” Ashley reflected, “but it’s nice to think about.”

  “If I win anything, I’ll split it with you guys,” said Becca. “Well, I’ll spend it on us, at least.”

  “Me too,” agreed Megan. “We’ll do something ridiculously fun and frivolous. Go shoe shopping, maybe.”

  “I’ll do the same,” I agreed.

  “Uh, Julia, you’re already paying for this whole trip,” said Megan. “You don’t have to do more for us! If Julia wins, she keeps the money for herself, agreed?”

  “I’m not actually paying for any of this,” I reminded them. “Bradley is. Well, his credit card is.”

  “Has he di
scovered that you took it yet?” asked Becca. “You know, any calls from the bank about suspicious activity?”

  I couldn’t help but giggle devilishly. “Before we left, I called the bank and said I was his wife. That I was taking a trip to France and not to flag any charges from overseas. I answered all the security questions and everything. He won’t find out until he gets the bill next month.”

  “You’re so evil,” said Ashley. “I love it. I can’t believe it, but I love it. Remind me to never cheat on you.”

  “Not evil,” said Megan. “He flat out told her….after fourteen years, he didn’t love her anymore. That deserves at minimum, a kick in the balls. You kick him in the balls, an hour later he feels totally fine. You take his credit card and go on vacation and get your sense of self back and come back feeling confident and able to deal with the whole divorce, custody fallout crap? He’s spending years dealing with that, not to mention paying off your vacation. It’s not fair for him to just say he doesn’t love her anymore, file for divorce, and hop happily ever after in to Nikki’s bed, or whatever her name is. He needs to be affected by this too. It’s only fair.”

  “Hear hear,” I said, raising my glass to my best friend. “You know what? Let’s toast to Bradley, whose complete and utter screw-up has led to some of the best times of my life. Thank you, Bradley, for not guarding your credit card details more closely.”

  “To Bradley!” my friends chorused, as we all clinked our glasses together.

  We lingered after dinner, having another glass of wine while enjoying the jazz band playing on stage, before deciding to walk over to the casino. It was a huge, beautiful building that looked to me more like an opera house than a casino. There was a courtyard with a fountain all lit up, and several flashy cars parked outside that Bradley might have admired, but I didn’t know enough about cars to be properly impressed. We walked inside and saw a few people starting to line up. Eagerly, we joined them, figuring they were checking people for adhering to the dress code.

  When we reached the front of the line, a man in a tuxedo held out his hand and said something quickly in French. We looked at him in confusion. “Sorry, what?” asked Megan.