Page 89 of The Hundred Loves of Juliet
“Understood, just a deterrent, very discreet. Do you require security services while in Europe?”
“No…for now.” I am hopeful that Merrick won’t have the resources to follow us there. He has a grudge, but not unlimited funds.
“Let me know if you change your mind,” Sandrine says.
I nod, even though she can’t see. But she’ll infer it.
“There’s another thing I need,” I say as I pick up Dana and Adam’s engagement announcement from my desk. “I want to transfer my half of ownership of theAlacrityand the related business.”
“Is this a sale of the company or a gift?” Sandrine asks, already running through the tax implications of both.
I trace my fingers along a scaled model of the boat, between a lamp and a stone paperweight. I’ve spent a lot of time in my life on ships, but theAlacritywas the first that was mine; I’m going to miss her. I already do.
“It’s a gift to Dana Wong,” I say. “For her engagement to Adam, owner of the other half of the business.”
“Very good,” Sandrine says, and I’m again grateful for her discretion. Anyone else would want to know why I’m not giving the business to Adam. The answer, of course, is that Adam would refuse it, and that would cause more legal headaches and paperwork. Dana, however, will get that I need to do this as a peace offering, and that Adam will one day understand. Hopefully.
“What else can I take care of for you, Sebastien?”
Helene’s passport lies slightly open on my desk. I run my finger across her photo, her birthdate, and the date the passport expires—nine years from now.
My stomach sours. She won’t live long enough to apply for another one.
I smash the passport shut and thump a paperweight onto it.
“Sebastien?” Sandrine asks. “Anything else I can take care of for you?”
Can you break the curse? Can you save Helene from dying?
But I only say, “That’s all for now, Sandrine, thank you.”
“Always a pleasure. I’ll be in touch soon.” She hangs up without a lingering goodbye, another hallmark of the JuliusA. Weiskopf Group. They are not my friends; they’re my advocates and, when I need them to be, my attack dogs.
I close my eyes and rest my head against the tufted leather of my chair. Life, ceaseless as it is, can be exhausting. I think if people knew what I knew—what I’ve seen and lived through—they would stop chasing immortality. No more fad diets or biohacks for longevity. No more research to prevent aging.
Immortality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,I’d tell them.
I pour myself two fingers of Scotch and sit in my study, staring out into the woods, watching. And thinking, for a very long time.
HELENE
The first city on Katy’sand my original itinerary—and now on Sebastien’s and mine—is Amsterdam. I’ve always wanted to visit the Netherlands, because it’s where Dad grew up before his family immigrated to the States when he was a teenager. Sebastien and I arrive just in time for Koningsdag, the celebration of the Dutch king’s birthday.
When we land at Schiphol Airport, a chauffeur is waiting for us in the arrivals terminal with a bouquet of tulips and holding up a sign that reads Helene Janssen.
“You’re too good to me,” I say to Sebastien.
“There’s no such thing,” he says with a kiss. He’d seemed stressed recently, but the moment we stepped foot in the Netherlands, his mood seemed to warm by several degrees. It probably feels like a relief to get away from Alaska. (I still don’t know the details of what happened between him and Adam; Sebastien has been characteristically closed as a vault on that topic.)
“Goedendag, MevrouwJanssen,MeneerJanssen,” the chauffeur, Lars, says.“Het is leuk u te ontmoeten.”
I assume it’s a greeting and I smile. Then I realize he thinks I’m Dutch, seeing as my last name is. I’m about to explain that I only speak English when Sebastien replies to him, and they have a full-on conversation in Dutch.
Sebastien smiles shyly when he sees me staring. “Did I not mention I speak Dutch?”
“Good day, Ms. Janssen,” Lars says to me in English now. It’s perfect, with only the barest hint of an accent, just like my dad’s. I touch my watch at the reminder of him.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Lars says. “Mr. Montague explains you have not been to our beautiful city of Amsterdam before. I will take the scenic route to your accommodations.”
