Playing for Keeps Read online

  Robert let go and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day. He learned something really quickly about Christopher, there is more there than he ever let on. He never felt any malice from him or anything, he just liked to keep things close to the vest. “Yeah, he is full of surprises,” said Robert as he turned on the shower.

  Amy yelled, “Wait for me Buster!” She hopped in behind him.

  About half an hour later, Robert and Amy followed the black and white marbled tiles through a grand arch into the dining room. Centered in the room was a large marble table, surrounded by twelve ornate high-backed chairs. The mere sounds of their footsteps on the marble tiles summoned Guy through a hidden door that led to the kitchen. This level of attention was something neither Robert nor Amy were used to. Their upbringings were rather modest. Even with the newfound wealth of the Game Master endeavors, they have kept things modest. Not that either of them was complaining, they kind of enjoyed the regal-like attention.

  Guy pulled out a chair for Amy, but she instead requested to see the kitchen. Guy replied, “Madame, that is a servant’s domain. Mr. Christopher rarely goes in there, himself.”

  Amy put on the puppy dog eyes and explained, “Kitchens are kind of my thing. I watch home improvement shows just for the kitchens. Please.”

  Robert looked at Guy, “Those eyes are hard to refuse, aren’t they?”

  Guy took a few steps back and pushed open the hidden door leading to the kitchen. “After you, Madame.”

  Amy walked from one dreamland into another. White stone floors, light gray marble countertops, and a matching island. Decorative wood trim adorned every corner or accent area. The appliances were all top-end stainless steel. Copper pots hung on long chains over the island. Large windows over the sink and at the end of the long room allowed ample sunlight in, while under and over cabinet lighting provided just the right splash of light over the work surfaces.

  She sighed, “We need to remodel at home.”

  Robert knew that was coming, “Great.”

  Guy led the two of them back to the dining room and treated them both to a world class breakfast. Fresh-made fruit pastries, berries and crème from a neighboring dairy, and a wonderful omelet. Robert looked down as a little burp escaped through his lips. It was all so delicious he couldn’t say no. It was a good thing they were going to do a bit of walking today. They enjoyed one final cup of coffee as they explored the courtyard out back. Guy stayed inside and tended to the cleaning. He was very efficient at this task. By the time they returned from their tour, he was waiting for them on the back patio.

  “I am at your service while you are here.”

  Robert asked Amy, “Shall we see the city, my dear?”

  “Absolutely!”

  After a short drive through Paris, much of which neither of the passengers in the back seat blinked during, Guy dropped them off at Amy’s first destination. The Louvre. Her plan was to spend until early afternoon walking around the museum, then enjoying the walk through the shops, cafes, and across the Seine to get a look at the Cathedral of Notre Dame in the daylight. The spiral caught her attention on the way in, amid the darkness of the early morning. She couldn’t wait to see it in all its splendor during the day.

  Robert sat, eyes still spinning from the hours of looking at picture after picture and sculpture after sculpture, in a café on the banks for the Seine. Amy was going on and on about the masterpieces they just saw, but he didn’t hear a word. All he knew was the most important woman in his life was having the time of hers, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. The waiter stopped by and quickly took their order. Amy ordered for both of them in perfect French, helping them look less like tourists. The three shopping bags full of items Amy bought at a little boutique they passed on the way might be a dead giveaway, though.

  As they waited for their food, Amy continued to talk about the exhibits and Robert took in the surroundings. It was obvious this was an area focused on tourism, but it seemed elegant, not cheap like Las Vegas or some of the spots back home. He soaked in the moment and was truly enjoying life when there was a bump from behind. Nothing large, just a small bump as someone walked by or slid their chair out too far.

  A woman’s voice said, “Excuse me, I am so sorry,” from behind him.

  Robert turned around, not abruptly or anything. Just to turn and acknowledge who spoke to him.

  Robert’s gaze met the eyes of a very attractive mid-30s woman, with long raven hair and a hint of oriental facial features. “It is fine. Actually, might be my fault. My chair is back a bit. Let me scoot it in further to give you more room.” Robert had stretched his legs out under the table and was kind of lounging back in the chair. This pushed his chair out into the walkway, and into the space of the table behind them, which was empty when they sat down. He scooted his chair closer to the table with a scrape. He turned and asked, “Is that better?”

  In near perfect English, the woman said, “Oh, yes. You are Americans?”

  “Yes, we are from San Diego. I am Robert, and this is my wife, Amy.” Amy’s eyes lit up hearing that word and politely waved and said a quick, “Hi.”

  “I am Marjorie and that is my-“, as she spoke, she looked at the empty chair across from her. “Well, Isaac, he is still in the bathroom. Is this your first time in Paris?”

  Amy interjected, “Yes, this is our honeymoon.”

  Marjorie gave a lopsided smile and said, almost sounding apologetic, “Oh, congratulations. Don’t let me interrupt you, then. It was nice meeting you. Enjoy your lunch.” With that she turned around and rearranged the glasses and objects on the table. Robert thought this was odd, she was either doing it out of nerves, or just one of those people.

  Robert and Amy did just what she suggested. They enjoyed their nice leisurely lunch. After that, they strolled hand in hand through shops, a few more shops, and then across the Seine toward the Cathedral of Notre Dame. As soon as it came into view, Amy incessantly snapped pictures. First, just pictures of the bell towers. Then she asked Robert to stand in the pictures. After more than enough of those, she joined Robert for several selfies, including three attempts, one of which worked, to catch them kissing with the building in the background. With a few expertly executed swipes, Amy sent that picture back to the gang.

  They approached the door and jumped in line to walk inside the chapel. Robert couldn’t get over the size and dimensions of the building, and the statues adorning it. He had seen it on TV and the internet many times, but this was unreal, almost dizzying, as he looked straight up the side of the structure. They walked inside and the sensation magnified. The massive stone columns that curved up and over, forming domes over a cavernous space, the intricate stone and woodwork that was all more than eight hundred years old. His mind struggled with the simple facts of where they were and what they were standing in. Amy took him by the hand and began the tour along the various displays of artwork, statues, and religious artifacts. The thought, “Great, another museum,” sprang into Robert’s head for just a fleeting moment. It only took a moment for the grandeur and importance of this place to usher the thought out.

  Finished with the tour of the artwork, Amy and Robert walked around looking at the stained glass and the gold cross that stood behind the altar. While both were focused on what they perceived to be the most reverent item in the chapel, there was a tap on Robert’s shoulder. He turned around to see Marjorie standing there with a bald expressionless male, dressed in a white polo shirt and black slacks.

  “Fancy we would run into each other here,” she said. “I never got a chance to introduce Isaac to you guys back at the café.”

  Robert extended his hand to shake and greet Isaac, but instead of reciprocating, Isaac just waved his hand and said, “Hi, Robert. Hi, Amy. Marjorie told me a lot about you guys at lunch. Nice to finally meet you.”

  Amy said, “Likewise. Are you enjoying Notre Dame?” While she gave a side glance toward Robert.

  “It is so beautiful. I have never s
een anything like it,” Marjorie said, looking around at the stained-glass windows around them. “This is really something everyone should experience, at least once.”

  “Did you see the crown of thorns?”

  “Oh, God, yes. Do you think it is real?” she asked.

  Amy answered, “I don’t know, but that is the story. We may never know.”

  A large group gathered around them in front of the altar and began praying. Robert and Amy realized for many people, this was more than just a historic site, it was a religious shrine, and they were standing in the way of people paying homage. Both shared a semi-embarrassed look before Robert suggested, “Looks like we are in the way. Why don’t we move to the back, or head on out?”

  “Where are my manners? Here I am, bothering you two again. You two go on, enjoy the rest of your day. It was nice running into you once more.”

  “Yes, it was. Enjoy the Cathedral,” Amy said as they moved to make room for others gathering in front of the altar. As they walked out, from the corner of his eye, Robert thought he saw Isaac leer at them. He looked back over his shoulder as Isaac turned back to Marjorie and adjusted his sunglasses. Robert commented, “That Isaac isn’t much of a talker.”

  “I noticed, but maybe Marjorie doesn’t give him time to jump in.”

  “Could be.”

  Once outside they walked around the grounds, taking a dozen or more additional pictures of the structure and each other. Amy stopped for just a second to send several more of them back to members of the SanSquad. In her message, she thanked them again for the change of plans, and to rub in where they were. She ended the message with, “Hey, Christopher, nice house.” She showed it to Robert, who thought that was sure to start a conversation among the group. Maybe not, they could already know about the house.

  They walked along the Seine for a bit longer, Amy’s phone chimed jealous replies and congratulations in her pocket. She didn’t feel it. She was too busy taking it all in as the sun dropped below the horizon and the lights of Paris took its place. To say it felt magical would not even come close to how they both felt.

  The smile on her face, and the wonderment in her eyes, melted Robert’s heart. He wondered if there was anything he could do to put the cherry on top of this perfect day. Then he remembered, on the drive into Paris this morning, really afternoon, Guy mentioned he knew a perfect place for them to enjoy their first dinner in Paris, “If they were interested”. Robert most definitely was. He pulled out his phone and placed a quick call.

  Amy asked several times, “What are you doing?”

  Robert just flashed her a devious smile. In just moments, he had everything arranged. He told Guy which direction they were walking and within moments he told Robert exactly where he would pick them up, in about thirty minutes. When they arrived at the spot, Guy was standing outside the car, holding the back door open for them.

  “What is this?” Amy asked.

  “Just a little surprise,” Robert said.

  4

  Guy was right. Robert wasn’t sure which was more beautiful; the glamorous ivy-covered terrace, or his wife in the gown they’d bought earlier. The sparkle in her eyes rivaled the glittering of the lights covering the terrace, and the twinkle from the Eiffel Tower in the background. Amy’s white dress hung tight against her figure. As she walked in, everyone turned to look. Of course, everyone was only about a dozen or so guests, and ten members of the staff. This club was very exclusive. A larger club existed downstairs. To get into that you had to be a celebrity or political A-lister, but to gain entrance to the terrace on top, you had to know someone. It appeared Christopher did.

  Guy walked them through the club and up a set of stairs. Two large leather-covered doors awaited them at the top of the stairs. Guy did not open the doors, instead he said, “This is as far as I can take you. I will be here when you come out.”

  Amy, still not used to the whole being waited on feeling, asked, “You are just going to wait here for us?”

  Guy gave her a wry smile and said, “Yes, but don’t worry. I won’t be standing here the whole time. I will get something to eat at the bar and watch a little of the match.” Guy pointed back over their shoulders. They both turned around to see a small, but quaint looking, bar shoved in an obscure room off to the side of the door. Several men inside were already motioning for Guy to come join them. He waved back.

  “Go on. Have fun.”

  Robert reached and opened the door, allowing his bride to enter first. Inside the door a maître d greeted them by name, “Amy and Robert Deluiz, follow me.” The black tailcoat and white glove wearing man with dark hair slicked straight back led them through the entry and out onto the terrace. The appearance of the Eiffel Tower standing right in front of them, with a single light rotating on the top, and hundreds of twinkling lights lining its frame. took both of their breaths away. They stopped and just stared, wide-eyed, for several moments as music from the string quartet in the corner added the perfect soundtrack. Their escort noticed and held his position, waiting for them to catch up, then walked them to the only open table of the six positioned out on the terrace.

  He pulled out a chair covered in starched white fabric from the table, also covered by a starched white cloth. Amy took the seat, and he scooted her up to the table. Robert sat down on the only other chair at the table, located across from Amy. The maître d made an attempt to explain the wine list and the menu for the night, but neither Robert nor Amy heard a word as they gazed over the wall at the world laid out before them. This did not offend him; it was a common reaction he had become used to. He left the menus on the side of the table for their review when they were ready, there was no rush. He was there to tend to every need tonight.

  Robert stared at his wife while she gazed at the Paris skyline. His thoughts traveled back to their first date in high school. A movie and a burger. A far cry from where they were right now. He felt a little urge to pinch himself to make sure he was not dreaming. Amy provided the small pinch as she pointed in the direction of a dance floor. Robert felt his stomach sink, but knew he would not be able to avoid dancing with her. He just hoped he performed better now, than he did at their wedding. At least they were in a different country, no one would recognize them.

  Inside, he hesitated, but on the outside, he confidently stood up, held out his hand, and invited his wife to the dance floor. Amy accepted with a smile. They danced and danced. Well, Amy danced. Robert discovered a secret to hide his lack of talent. He could stand still with his feet, do a little sway here and there, maybe a step or turn every once in a while, as Amy danced around him. From the waist up, he looked graceful, while the other half resembled a piece of metal stuck in concrete. A beautiful singer joined the string quartet and serenaded them in French. They both recognized the tune. Amy made attempts to sing along silently in Robert’s ear. Robert didn’t recognize any of the words, but it didn’t matter. The sound of his wife’s voice singing in those elegant words was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

  The food was just as mesmerizing. A perfect mix of flavor and presentation. They ate, talked, gazed, danced, and ate some more. No matter what they were doing at the time, they were both smiling on the inside and out. Amy stood up and invited her husband to the dance floor one more time. Robert wasn’t sure if it was the bliss or the wine, but this time there was no hesitation. He walked with his wife to the dance floor and, this time, flowed along with her. This was no illusion, he moved, and moved well. Robert made a mental note, Have a little wine and I can dance.

  They were enjoying a nice slow dance when Amy felt a tap on her shoulder. She picked her head up off of Robert’s shoulder and looked to her side, where she saw a familiar couple. Marjorie and Isaac were dancing there beside them. “Wow, three times in the same day,” she said as she took the lead and turned them around so Robert could see them, too.

  “Yeah, odd. How did you guys know about this place? It is hard to get into.”

  Amy thought about how
to answer for a moment, but Robert said, “We had a friend with a few connections.”

  Marjorie said, “That helps. We travel to Paris all the time and this is the first time we have ever made it in.” Isaac still sported his sunglasses as he held Marjorie in his stiff arms. His face maintained a stone-like stoic expression.

  The song ended and Isaac released Marjorie from his grip. She stepped back and looked at Amy and exclaimed, “Wow, Amy. That dress is stunning.”

  “Thank you. I like yours, too,” Amy said as she checked out the tight black cocktail dress that Marjorie wore.

  For the first time in the three times they’d met, Isaac spoke, “Well, nice meeting you again. I see our food has arrived.” Marjorie glanced over her shoulder to see he was right. She exited the dance floor with a cute wave. Isaac reached forward toward Robert. He took his hand in a shake, one that Isaac held a little long for Robert’s comfort. Isaac leaned in as they shook hands. Robert could not see his eyes behind the shaded lenses of his sunglasses, but felt he was being measured. Isaac let go and followed Marjorie back to their table leaving Robert and Amy to wonder what that was about.

  5

  The ride back to their temporary abode was beyond magical. Neither said a word to the other, but they were glowing after the evening. Even Guy managed to only speak once the entire trip. He suggested a trip through the French countryside tomorrow to view some renaissance castles, something a little less touristy. Both Amy and Robert thought that sounded like a great idea, but neither said anything. They just turned their heads toward him and smiled at him in agreement, like two love-struck teenagers. That was how they felt.

  The walk up the stairs exposed their legs as being a little more tired from all the walking and dancing than they realized. Once in the suite, Amy collapsed and sank into the soft mattress on the bed.

  “Oh, my God! I am so comfortable right now. I don’t want to get up and change,” said Amy, who still wore her white evening gown and matching heels.