Kwan Kevin - Sex and Vanity

“Rosemary, George, what a surprise!” Auden said cheerily as he clapped George heartily on the back.

Mordecai gave the late arrivals a quick once-over. Who on earth was this woman, and what possessed her to think she could join his group wearing those flamingo-pink sweatpants? “Madame, I don’t seem to recall you signing up for my tour?” he said haughtily.

Olivia was about to spring to their defense, but Rosemary gave Mordecai a confused look. “We didn’t sign up for anything—we were here for breakfast.”

“You’re friends with the Murphys?” Olivia asked, almost smirking.

“Yes, old friends. Tom and my husband owned a company together.”

Mordecai’s interest was instantly piqued. “Oh, really? Which one?”

“I can’t remember … was it the oil company? The refineries? No, it was the shipping company. Yes, they owned a fleet of tankers together, the largest fleet in the Pacific.”

Mordecai did an abrupt one-eighty and he smiled at Rosemary solicitously. “Well, Mrs. Chao—”

“It’s Zao, ” Rosemary corrected.

“Yes, Mrs. Zao, I was just at the start of my historical tour. Geraldine might have told you that I was the one who found this villa for them. You are most welcome to join us …”

“Oh, we don’t need a tour. We’ve stayed here many times; this is like a second home for us. Gerri insisted that I try her new float tank after breakfast, and now I’m going down for a Thai massage on the beach,” Rosemary declared before padding off with the ease of a longtime houseguest. George followed after her, and as he passed Lucie, he murmured in that low, quiet voice, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Lucie said, feeling the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks.

CHAPTER TEN

The High Garden at Villa Lachowski

Capri, Italy

The group had just finished Mordecai’s encyclopedic tour of every precious nook and cranny of the remarkable property, and for their patience they were rewarded with a sumptuous lunch held on the enchanting terracotta-tiled terrace, where wisteria vines wrapped around every column and the most arresting view of Positano stretched out before them like a perfectly retouched postcard.

“I’m having sensory overload. I’m not sure where to look—at the breathtaking view, at these adorable hand-painted majolica plates, or at this glorious feast!” Charlotte said as she sat down in her cushioned wicker chair, assessing the meal on the table with approval. Along with a chilled lobster and saffron bisque and a classic Caesar salad featuring cured Amalfi anchovies, the Murphys’ chef also brought out huge platters of strozzapreti tossed in a creamy sea urchin sauce and a delectably light mortadella, pistachio, and lemon pizza.

Tucking into her pasta, Mercedes whispered rather loudly to everyone on her side of the table, “I now know more than I ever imagined about neoclassical Piedmontese furniture.”

“It could have been worse,” Paloma said with a slight giggle.

“Really? I couldn’t possibly see how,” Olivia interjected.

“That Mrs. Zao could have come along on the tour,” Mercedes whispered.

“Are you not a fan?” Charlotte said with a slight smirk.

Paloma pursed her lips for a moment, before replying, “She is perfectly lovely. I just wouldn’t want to be on a two-hour tour with her, that’s all.”

Mercedes waved her hand in front of her sister’s face dismissively. “Oh, Paloma, stop being so polite. We just weren’t impressed by the way Mrs. Zao bragged about her husband’s companies. Not impressed at all!”

“Was it really bragging? She was asked the question by Mordecai, and she simply gave him an answer,” Olivia countered.

“It was the manner in which she said it. Did she have to boast that it was the largest fleet of tankers on the planet? I mean, our family founded businesses in the Philippines that go back to the eighteen hundreds, but we never would have mentioned it quite like that. My mother would have given us a tight slap!” Mercedes said.

“Mother could have taught that woman a thing or two about subtlety! Her style is just a bit too Hong Kong for my taste,” Paloma sniffed.

“How do you define ‘too Hong Kong’?” Charlotte asked as she tore off a slice of the pizza and carefully removed every bit of mortadella and cheese with her knife and fork.

Paloma pondered for a moment. “There’s a certain showy quality. The colors they choose to wear, and how they don’t mind being seen dripping in jewels at all hours of the day.”

“You call it showy, I call it flair. I suppose I have a penchant for extravagant, eccentric style. Mrs. Zao reminds me of Anna Piaggi or the Marchesa Casati,” Olivia said.

“Well, you should have seen the rubies she wore to go swimming yesterday. My jeweler would have had a heart attack!”

“And that son of hers, the silent one. No doubt he’s handsome, but have you ever heard him speak? It’s quite odd,” Mercedes mused.

“I think he’s just a little full of himself,” Charlotte commented.

“You know I read somewhere that beautiful men lack a conscience,” Mercedes interjected.

“Oh, what rubbish! He’s perfectly nice to me. I just don’t think he’s one for small talk,” Olivia said.

Lucie soaked in the ladies’ banter but said nothing. She couldn’t help but notice the Sultanah seated at the other end of the table, being fawned over by Mordecai. Even though she was wearing a blindingly colorful caftan and dripping in jewels, the Ortiz sisters didn’t seem to disapprove of her.

After lunch, the group dispersed to pursue various pampering distractions. The Sultanah and the Ortiz sisters treated themselves to the warm goat’s milk and honey manicures being offered in the spa (with Mordecai tagging along, of course), Auden went for a dip in the waters off the villa’s private beach, and Charlotte, Olivia, and Lucie decided to take advantage of the sun beds on the lower terrace. The Balinese beds were situated at the perfect vantage point under an alleé of tall umbrella pines, allowing the harsh afternoon sun to filter gently down to them while the crosswinds blew a cool sea breeze.

Lying on her belly and staring out at the azure waters from her plush silk mattress, Charlotte let out a deep sigh. “This is absolute bliss!”

“I’ve always found billionaires to be a miserable lot, but once in a while I think it might not be that bad to have enough cash to afford a place like this,” Olivia said with her eyes closed as she savored the sunlight on her face.

“You know, I almost married one with a place not too different from this,” Charlotte murmured lazily.

Lucie stared at her cousin curiously. “Really?”

“Yes. Raphaël. His parents had a villa in Cap-Ferrat, and we spent a few heavenly weeks there the summer after I graduated from Smith.”

“That was your hot summer romance, wasn’t it? We’ve all had at least one,” Olivia remarked.

“What happened?” Lucie asked, having a hard time imagining Charlotte engaged in a hot summer romance with anyone.

“My parents happened. Raphaël proposed and wanted me to move to London with him, where he was about to start a job at Rothschild’s. But Mom and Dad didn’t approve. And neither did Granny. They all thought I was much too young and he was a little too, shall we say … exotic.”

“Where was he from?” Lucie asked.

“He was born in Paris, to an extremely wealthy and aristocratic family.”

“So what was wrong with that?” Lucie pressed on.

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you? They were Jewish. ” Charlotte mouthed the last part.

“Oh,” Lucie said quietly, her face clouding over. “Did your parents really object because of that?”