Page 66 of Judging Duke

“Okay. Simon’s already downstairs waiting. I’ll pour you some coffee.”

I jumped out of bed and searched through my suitcase for some suitable clothes.

What did she say we were doing today? Ah, that was it. Visiting a friend in Monte Carlo and going out on their yacht. I’d best dress someway decent.

I threw on some clothes and packed a small bag with a pair of swim trunks, just in case. Better to be prepared.

I ran down the stairs, almost colliding with Simon, who stood waiting at the bottom, a coffee cup in his hand.

“Barbara said you’d want this.”

I took it from him, taking a quick sip.

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

“Well, get it down you. Barbara said she wasn’t waiting any longer.”

I guzzled down as much as I could without scalding myself and hurried outside.

Barbara sat in her silver Mercedes, waiting patiently.

She waved as we approached.

“Come on, boys. Pierre sails soon, and we want to make sure we’re not late.”

I hopped in the front, Simon in the back, and we set off at a speed not conducive to sightseeing. Everything was a blur.

Barbara was not the safest of drivers, and I lost count of the amount of times I tried to brake, knowing it would do no good. Even Simon was holding on for dear life in the back of the car, a terrified look on his face.

With hardly any time to look at the surroundings, we arrived at the port. Barbara got out of the car and handed her keys to a liveried man waiting on the quayside.

“We haven’t missed him, have we?”

He shook his head and pointed to a small boat, another uniformed man at the helm.

“I thought we were going to die,” Simon said, looking decidedly green as we climbed into the launch.

“You and me both. We can always get a taxi back,” I joked, although actually, it sounded like a marvellous idea.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up alongside the biggest yacht I had ever seen. Dark blue in colour, with teak handrails and staircases, it was stunning.

“Bonjour and welcome to La Rosa,” an elderly man greeted us. “I am Pierre and will be your host for the day. Barbara here is a wonderful friend, so you, by default, are also my good friends. Go up on deck, and we’ll take a short boat ride around the coast. Then we’ll drop anchor and have lunch.”

We climbed the stairs to the top deck and set ourselves up on a few sunbeds, the scorching sun reflecting off the white surfaces.

“Who is this guy?” Simon asked, making himself comfortable.

“I have no idea, but I’m liking his style.”

“I wonder how much this cost him.”

“I dread to think. Millions of euros, I would imagine. Let’s just lie back and enjoy the ride.”

A waiter approached with a tray of canapés and champagne. It was a little early, but we took a glass anyway.

“This is the life. I could get used to this.” Simon sipped on his drink and lay back on the sunbed.

“Isn’t this something people like you do regularly?”

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