Follow Your Star, Jennifer Bohnet [best fiction novels to read txt] 📗

it. Of course, I don’t expect to be placed, but must admit I’m looking forward to the weekend.’

‘Who have you got supporting you on the day?’ Nanette asked. ‘You’ll need someone in the pits to help.’

‘Not a problem. There are always young lads wanting to get involved and I’ve got a mechanic called David coming over from Le Cannet to help. He used to work the circuit so he knows the ropes.’

He glanced at her. ‘And Zac has offered me the expertise of one of his mechanics if I need it. The Formula One circus will be arriving in town by then with only a week to go to the Grand Prix proper. Looks as though it might be Zac’s year,’ he added casually. ‘I see he’s leading the championship and is favourite to win next week in Germany.’

Nanette nodded. Despite herself she’d been keeping an eye on the results since the drivers had arrived back in Europe from Australia.

‘My offer still stands by the way,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘You’re more than welcome to use the villa as a hideaway anytime – not just on race day. After the Spanish race Zac is certain to be in town more or less permanently until the Grand Prix.’

‘I know,’ Nanette said diffidently, remembering previous years when Zac had used the run up to the Monaco Grand Prix to do a lot of socializing. She sighed inwardly. The inevitable meeting was getting closer.

‘You will have to meet him face to face one day, Nanette. What will you do then?’ Jean-Claude asked gently.

Nanette shook her head before saying slowly, ‘I don’t know.’

*

For the next couple of weeks Monaco continued to gear itself up for the busiest part of its year. The needs of the vintage Grand Prix weekend complicated things as everything had to be ready a week earlier, which had added a manic frenzy to the normal busy preparations.

Walking to school every day, Nanette and the twins got used to dodging around obstacles on the pavement, lorries parked unloading yet more essential street furniture and the inevitable crowds of tourists being disembarked into the Principality for the day from the cruise ships moored in the harbour.

Every street had an army of workmen busy hammering and fixing things into place. Terraces of stands had taken over the hillside and the harbour, large television screens had appeared in strategic places around the route and the barriers were in place around the length of the circuit. Fresh white paint detailed the starting grid below Nanette’s balcony.

The main players in the Formula 1 circus had yet to arrive, but the supporting sideshow of trucks, traders and hangers-on, were already making their presence felt. The harbour was jam-packed with more and more luxury yachts whose owners were all determined to be a part of the glamorous scene.

Nanette had so far managed to avoid walking directly past Pole Position but this morning returning from taking the twins to school, she had no choice but to walk along that side of the embankment, as the other side had been blocked. Looking straight ahead she walked quickly, not looking at the boats until she was certain she had left Pole Position well behind.

With a deep breath of relief, she managed to cross the road and make her way into the small supermarché. Mathieu had asked her to pick up some croissants for his breakfast on her way back.

‘Florence won’t be in this morning – dentist or something,’ Mathieu had said.

Resisting the urge to buy herself a pomme de tart for her own breakfast, Nanette held the still warm croissants carefully as she let herself into the quiet apartment. She switched on the coffee machine before laying a tray with cups and plates and the croissants.

‘Hi Mathieu. I’m back,’ she called. ‘Do you want your croissants and coffee on the balcony?’

The words died in her throat as a familiar figure appeared in the kitchen doorway.

‘The balcony sounds fine. Hello, Nanette.’ As Nanette stood in total shock looking at him, Zac Ewart walked purposefully into the kitchen – and back into her life.

CHAPTER FOUR

Dressed in his favoured black jeans and polo shirt, a suede jacket slung casually over his shoulders, sunglasses perched on top of his head, Zac regarded Nanette contemplatively, his eyes taking in everything about her appearance.

Nanette, frozen into stillness, managed a strangled, ‘Hello Zac.’

‘That’s not much of a greeting for an old friend,’ and Zac moved forward to kiss her cheek.

‘Don’t you dare,’ Nanette said, between clenched teeth.

Zac stepped back, his hands in the air. ‘Sorry.’

‘How did you get in here anyway?’

‘Mathieu let me in – and then remembered he had an urgent appointment in Fontvielle.’ Zac gazed at her serenely. ‘So, we have the place to ourselves. We can catch up with all our news over breakfast.’ He picked up the breakfast tray. ‘I think we agreed on the balcony?’

Nanette, knowing full well there was no urgent appointment for Mathieu, followed Zac slowly out to the balcony.

‘How are you?’ Zac asked, as he placed the tray on the table.

‘How am I? Why should you care? It’s been three years – three years, Zac – since the accident, without a word from you. Why the sudden interest?’

‘I was glad to hear you were back. I care about you – I’ve missed you.’

Nanette gazed at him in disbelief.

‘If you missed me that much, why didn’t you get in touch? Visit me in England? And,’ Nanette took a deep breath, ‘I thought you more than cared for me – we were engaged. I thought you loved me. Disappearing out of my life without even officially breaking off our engagement was cruel, Zac.’

Zac regarded her steadily. ‘I’m sorry, Nanette. It seemed the right thing to do at the time.’

‘Right for whom?’

‘Me. Selfish, I know but there it is,’ and he shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

Nanette turned away and leant on the balcony rail, her