An hour later, Andrea texted me that I would eat early with the crew and Dauphine would eat alone with Monsieur Pascale. I couldn’t help the horrid feeling in my belly that I’d done something terribly wrong. But what?

The next day, it happened again for both lunch and dinner. Feeling mildly betrayed, I was torn between relief and disappointment. They played board games on the upper deck and went swimming, and he barely glanced in my direction. When I woke in the night and crept up to the top deck, I was equal parts relieved and disappointed not to find him there. Every morning, I felt crabbier and more tired.

Xavier had business on shore and he was back and forth. On one of the days, it was my day off, so I hitched a ride with him and Evan to shore while Dauphine stayed with Andrea. We were in a small town near Marseille, and as much as I’d looked forward to moments like this, I felt overwhelmed wandering around all day by myself in a strange town. The museum I’d read about online was closed and nowhere had good Wi-Fi, so I couldn’t even check in with home or check my email to see if I’d heard back from any of the jobs I’d applied for. I sat awkwardly by myself at a little café and ordered a citron pressé, which wasn’t as good as the one Xavier had ordered me because it came with packets of sugar that didn’t dissolve instead of the simple syrup. The baguette sandwich came with anchovies on it, which permeated the entire experience even though I picked them off. And weirdly, I missed Dauphine and wondered why I hadn’t just invited her along even though it was my day off. Security, I reminded myself. That was why.

I met up with Xavier and Evan at the quay. Xavier was on the phone, the other hand shoved into the pocket of his tan pants and his linen shirt tails carelessly rumpled. Against the backdrop of the Mediterranean, he still looked like a million dollars. He nodded in my direction.

“Have a good time?” Evan asked, and I tore my gaze away. Luckily, I was wearing sunglasses.

I shrugged and followed him toward the tender. “It was all right. There’s not much to do here. But it was nice to stretch my legs and walk more than fifty feet in one direction.”

He grinned and stepped into the shallow boat, turning to help me in. “I’ll bet.”

“I was disappointed not to see the museum though. It was closed. I read they have an exhibit of the Huguenot expulsion since Marseille was one of the ports many fled from.”

“Do you know where your father’s ancestors left from?” Xavier suddenly asked from behind me, clearly having caught up with us and our conversation.