I ran my hand up Dauphine’s back and returned her embrace. “Me too, sweetheart.” When Dauphine pulled away, I looked up at Evan. “Sure. Tagging along to see Corsica sounds great. And thoughtful. I appreciate you including me.”

Evan looked awkwardly at Xavier, then smiled thinly. “No problem. Well, you should get going if you’re going to get there by dinner. Paco is all fueled and ready to go. I’m sure he wants to get ahead of the fog that’s predicted here for tomorrow.”

“We’re heading there now?”

“Xavier has an appointment in Calvi tomorrow.”

“Oh, ah, of course.” I turned to Dauphine. “You have fun, little mermaid. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“When will that be?” Madame Pascale shaded her eyes as she asked her son.

“We’ll probably spend tomorrow night there and head back the day after, and then I have business in Cannes.” I knew Cannes, where the famous film festival happened every year, was between where we were now and St Tropez. I was dying to see it.

Madame proceeded to give me a list of places to see both in Calvi and in Cannes, including the infamous Carlton Hotel. “You know it is rumored that was where Grace Kelly met Prince Rainier of Monaco? Such a romantic and tragic tale.” She placed a hand on her chest.

“Okay, Mother,” said Pascale after a bit. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

I bit my lip. “Um. Madame, would you mind terribly if we swapped contact information in case I have questions and need more advice about where to go and what to see?”

Madame Pascale beamed. “Bien sûr! Of course.”

A few minutes later after saying our goodbyes to Xavier’s mother and daughter, Evan and Xavier helped carry my bags down the cliff stairs to the tender. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being on that tiny boat with my suitcases. It seemed a bit precarious.

“Your mother is absolutely charming, I love her,” I told my ex-boss in an attempt to make conversation and keep my mind off the idea of potentially capsizing. My anxiety had spiked, and it probably wasn’t a hundred percent due to worrying about falling overboard, and instead to do with this strange turn of events.

“You sound surprised,” he said as he handed my bags down into the boat.

“Have you met you?” It was out before I could check myself.

Evan barked a laugh at his boss’ expense that echoed across the rocky cliff and bounced back at us off the water. “Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

Xavier gave Evan a glare and said something rapidly in French, to which Evan smirked and shrugged, then stepped carefully into the tender. Evan handed me down, and Xavier held out his hand for my other. I grasped it—warm and firm—then stepped gingerly into the shallow vessel.