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I drop my sunglasses, “Lemme guess. Panties?”
“That’s the thing, here in Cannes, it’s a no-panties town.”
I raise an eyebrow. I pull my wickedly hot black thong off, and I do it slowly. As Lorenzo tries not to grin, I stick it in his navy suit jacket. I then adjust it, so it looks like a silk handkerchief just sticking out. “There, happy?”
The first night,we have dinner with Troy Remington. As always, Troy is classy, charming, distinguished, and graceful. He should be, he and his brothers grew up in Beverly Hills, and they are basically Hollywood Royalty.
Troy invests in movies, and his family company produces over a dozen a year. The family also has interests in real estate, and they own more than one vineyard. His wife Zara, a fashion designer is not here, but she sounds talented and humble.
Over the next few days, Lorenzo, and his US, and European staff, have endless meetings about their movie projects, and who to sell the completed movies to. I try to ignore the stunning women on the French Riviera, and around the movie market, but it is hard.
They are all over the place, and some of Lorenzo’s female staff, are gorgeous. That I don’t like, but Lorenzo is mine, and I trust him.
Between meetings and me exploring the stunning coastal town and reading books, Lorenzo and I attend red-carpet premieres of movies, and we see a few great films.
Lorenzo explains, the once-a-year film market and festival is key, and like most investors, and producers, he has to circulate, and connect with the industry heads.
We have a little fun in the evenings, when he is not in talks with people, and completely distracted. We spend some time with his billionaire friend Dante, who flew in with Troy.
They are still in talks over their planned business deal, and Dante is sweet. I like his exotic accent, and like Troy, he is sophisticated and graceful.
Also, weirdly, a bachelor.
The short week of premieres, screenings, red-carpet events, meetings, parties, and busy days and nights, is about to end, and it has felt like a mini marathon.
Lorenzo and I have had little time together, and he and his staff have been in rolling meetings.
It has been intense, yet glamorous.
It feels like Lorenzo has been spending way too much time with two leggy French women, that sell his movies to companies in Europe.
I watched the women closely when I was around them, and Lorenzo, and I didn’t like it.
I trust Lorenzo, but I think I know body language. I can tell the French ex-model Sophia, has designs for him, and she gives me the chills. She is way too chic, way too seductive, and way too cat-like.
Over the last few days, and as we passed each other at events, screenings and parties, we have avoided each other. She knows who I am, because we have met. I started out being friendly, but the arrogant ex-model has started to act like I do not exist.
The thing is, she does not even seem to care, and I suspect she’s up to no good.
As soon as we’re on the jet home, I’ll carefully have a word with Lorenzo. I will explain I’m uncomfortable with her beingaround, and I will ask him to consider distancing himself from her.
I know he loves me because he says it daily.
I also know he will consider my request. He is not some sex-crazed brute that fucks everything he can,anymore. He is committedto us.
However, Lorenzo and I have not had sex for a week.
Considering we usually have sex several times a day, it has me slightly on edge. I know it’s due to his schedule, but I sense something else.
Ever since we arrived, and I’ve come on to Lorenzo in bed, or the shower, he’s been distracted.
And he has backed away.
I put it down to work stress, but deep down, I know, and I know him. I also know he craves sex because that is his way.
Finally, we are down to one last movie party on a yacht, then, we will be home, married, and safe.
As we shower before the super yacht party, I tell Lorenzo, I miss him. I also tell him I miss sex, and I missus.
