Danielle Steel - Second Chance

The next morning when they saw the boat, they were both awestruck by her beauty. They spent the day sailing her with a crew of nine, spent the night in the port in Monte Carlo, and had a quiet romantic dinner on the aft deck, drinking champagne and reveling in the joy of being together in glorious surroundings.

“How did this happen?” Fiona asked him in amazement. “Did I miss something? When did I die and go to heaven? How did I get this lucky?” She had never even dreamed of finding anyone like him. And he felt exactly as she did. Fiona was magic.

“Maybe we both deserve this,” he said simply, and believed it.

“That's too simple. I feel like I won the lottery.”

“We both did,” he corrected.

For the next two weeks their time together was idyllic, beyond hopes and dreams and wishes.

They had the boat only for the first week, and made good use of it, and their time together after that was a little more prosaic. But they enjoyed that too, and had a good time in St. Tropez going to the beach and trying out new restaurants. The vacation ended all too quickly. It seemed like only minutes later that they were back in the airport in Nice, flying to Paris, and then flying home to New York together. For once, Fiona wasn't even excited about seeing Sir Winston. And on the flight home, they discussed how to handle the rest of the summer.

John had already explained that his girls were away until Labor Day, his housekeeper was off visiting family, and his dog was at the kennel for the summer. She needed a lot of attention, and he couldn't take care of her properly with his housekeeper in North Dakota. And after spending Labor Day weekend with him, both his girls were going back to college, although he saw them regularly throughout the school year. Courtenay came home often for weekends since she was only in Princeton. Hilary did her best to come home from Brown once a month, except when she had exams. He said she was a very serious student. She wanted to be an oceanographer, and was doing an internship that summer at a lab in Long Beach, California. John had said a million times that he was certain Fiona was going to love them. There was no question in his mind that they would fall in love with her, just as he had. That part was easy. He was a little less sure of Fiona's reaction to them, since she had never had children of her own. But they weren't babies, they were women. So Fiona should be perfectly at ease with them, he told himself, and he was sure they would become the best of friends. His girls needed adult female companionship, since both of them missed their mother so much. Fiona had already said that she was going to go shopping with them. She didn't know much about kids and young people, but shopping was one thing she was good at, and she thought it would be an easy way to get to know his girls.

“So what are we going to do when we go home?” Fiona asked as they sat in the first-class lounge at Charles de Gaulle, waiting for their flight to New York.

“About what? I was thinking that maybe we could find a house in the Hamptons to rent for the weekends.” There might be one available that no one wanted, and they both loved the beach and getting out of town. Failing that, he could always charter another boat, which appealed to both of them as well. The possibilities were infinite, but she had another plan in mind. They had gone straight from dating and first blush to wanting to be together all the time. He had already said as much to her himself in St. Tropez.

“Do you want to stay at my place with me until your housekeeper comes home?” Fiona asked. He had thought of it himself, but didn't want to be presumptuous and suggest it to her.

“How do you think Sir Winston would feel about it? Do you think we should ask him first?”

“Don't worry. I'll negotiate the deal with him. How do you feel about it?”

“I think it's an excellent idea. My place is hard to take care of without Mrs. Westerman. And I have no one else to do the cleaning. There's a service that comes in once a week, but that's about it. Your place runs a little more smoothly, with Jamal, and it's easier for you with the dog… sorry… your son, I mean, Sir Winston.”

“That's better,” she said with a grin. She liked the arrangement very much—and then suddenly thought of her closets in a panic. She didn't have an inch of spare closet space, and she was going to have to find some for him fast. She was wondering if he would mind going down a flight of stairs to the guest room. She had her fur coats and ski clothes there, but she could probably squeeze out some space for him. Maybe. Or… maybe her office closet, but there was no hanging space… the bathroom closet… it was full of her nightgowns and robes and beach clothes, and some old evening gowns. She'd have to work out something. He was a consummate good sport. He had been on the trip, whenever anything went wrong, although very little had. But he was unfailingly polite and easygoing, and she loved that about him. He didn't seem to have a temper, and had a happy disposition.

They went straight to her house that night. Jamal had left it immaculate for her, and filled the house with flowers. And the refrigerator was full of everything she liked to eat. There was even a bottle of champagne, which she opened to share with John, and they toasted each other, standing in the living room. She had never been as happy in her life. Sir Winston was coming home the next day, she could hardly wait to see him.

The next morning John cooked breakfast for her. He made a cheese omelette and English muffins, and they left the house at the same time for their respective offices. Jamal arrived just as they went out, and he stared at Fiona in surprise. Men had spent the night from time to time over the years, and the conductor had lived with her, but he hadn't seen anyone at the house in the morning in a very long time. He didn't know if this was a temporary fling for her, or someone who was going to stick around. Her next words to him spelled it out.

“This is Mr. Anderson, Jamal. I need a key for him,” she said offhandedly, she had an important meeting at the office and was in a hurry. “Just make a copy and leave it on my desk.” She reminded him that he had to be there when they brought Sir Winston home at four o'clock, and with that she and John hailed cabs simultaneously, kissed in the middle of the street, and left for their respective workdays.

They had promised to meet at her place that night. He was going to his apartment first to pick up some stuff. It was as easy as that. Presto magic, she was living with a man in her house. For the summer at least.

Until his daughters and housekeeper came back. Once the girls left for school again, she assumed he would move back in with her again, as long as they both liked it. And she hoped they would. She hoped so with all her heart. She wanted this to work, more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life. She was seriously in love with him, and thought him an extraordinary man. And she knew he felt the same way about her. Blind luck.

“How was St. Tropez?” Adrian asked with a knowing grin as she came through the door with an armful of papers and files and magazines she'd brought back from Paris. They had a lot to talk about.

“Fabulous.” She beamed at him, he could see it in her eyes. She had never looked as relaxed.

“And where is he now?”

“At his office.”

“Where was he last night?” Adrian teased. He was like a brother to her, and she didn't mind. She had few secrets from him, if any.

“None of your business.”

“I thought so. Have you told Sir Winston yet?”

“We're breaking the news to him tonight.”

“Call the vet and get Valium for him. This could be hard.”

“I know.” And then she lowered her voice. “I have a serious problem, and I don't know what to do about it.”