Forever and a Day: A Historical Romance

By Victoria Wallin

Jake is a spoiled New York City businessman who brings his pal Freddy to the French Riviera in 1938 for some business ventures, but mostly a lot of fun. When he meets the artistic and smart Michelle at a party he is immediately smitten with her sharp tongue and her fast comebacks, and a holiday fling seems inevitable. Little does he know that she will come to call him out on his bad boy behavior and force him to take a closer look at himself.

Michelle is a young woman from an artistic family who is used to the flood of tourists and their boring attempts to win her love. She finds Jake an exceptionally irritating example of this and shows him no mercy when he uses his quick witted charms on her. But Jake will not stand to be scrutinized alone and their tongue twisting battles starts a war of wits between the two.

When a sudden tragedy strikes the two lovebirds lay down their arms, and their relationship grows deeper and more serious. Could this be something more than just a summer crush? Could Michelle be happy with Jake in NYC with his old flames and new frenemies?

An epic love story that starts on the glamorous French Riviera and ends (?) in the big city drama of NYC.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Victoria Wallin
• Release date: May 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463269770

Victoria Wallin

Victoria Wallin writes women's fiction, romantic comedies, romance, historical fiction and crime thrillers!

Book preview

Chapter 1

Cap Ferrat, the French Riviera, July 1938

The soft lingering tones from a lonely piano set a comfortable background to the excited, escalating chuckles and conversations of the dinner guests at the elegant nightclub called the Golden Flamingo. The tunes from a clarinet were let out over the vast room. From its place in the bandstand the beautiful music travelled across the still empty dance floor to the other side of it, to the round tables of the dinner section, separated from the dance floor by a short white fence. Large pillars covered in gold plates held the ceiling up, which only added to its glamorous atmosphere. In between the pillars there were black palm trees with golden branches in pairs leaning away from each other, to give the room a true Riviera feeling.

The round tables at the dinner section were filled with men in tuxedos and women in long silky gowns and gloves, accessorized with pearl necklaces, elegant cigarette cases and amusing conversations.

Right in this crowd of tables and people a waiter charged through, pushing a candle lit cake on a serving cart in front of him. Delighted eyes fell on it as he passed through the tables and happy hollers and whistles emerged at the table he stopped at.

Michelle clapped her gloved hands together in excitement and frowned at her brother Mickey’s pretended face of utter surprise. He pointed at his chest and said: For me?!

The other two at the table, a young man with sandy blonde hair combed to the side and a red-headed young woman in a dark blue dress, started singing Happy Birthday with loud voices. Michelle leaned over to give her brother a big kiss on his left cheek.

Happy Birthday, Mickey, she hollered into his ear, and he smiled back at her as she tuned in on their loud serenade with mischief in her dark eyes, now aimed at her best friend Franny, the red-head sitting on her right.

Mickey would have gladly howled along with them, that was to be expected of his fun and easy-going personality, but this time he had to hold his tongue for obvious reasons. He knew very well that his friends were mocking him when they finished the song screamingly off key and he smiled. He loved being in the spotlight and his brown eyes gleamed.

His friends all cheered and clapped their hands as he raised his tall body out of his chair and stood, waving them off with one hand to shush them. Mickey then took a short breath, bent forward and blew out the flickering candles on the cake, very theatrical. He took a quick bow to the whistles and shouts, with an amused glimpse in his eyes and elegantly sat down on the chair again in his perfectly fitted black tuxedo. The waiter started cutting the cake and the usual mumbling sounds and occasional laughs around them created a comfortable background to their celebration.

At the table next to the celebration party Jake was sitting leaned back on his chair, thoughtfully smoking a cigarette while looking at Michelle. There was a sensual liveliness about her, and she seemed so unaware of her own beauty. Jake wondered if the birthday boy was her boyfriend. They looked good together he noticed with slight jealousy, and took his eyes off them to reach for the ashtray in front of him on the table. His own company for the evening, some young blonde, was laughing hysterically at something his wisecracked pal Freddy had said. She seemed somehow…too easy to entertain.

Freddy, sitting on his right, filled up her glass again from the bottle of champagne they had ordered to the table, and then his own. Freddy chuckled to himself and the woman laughed even more when he pretended to spill.

Jake discreetly scratched his right temple with the hand holding the cigarette, wishing he could escape the whole situation. But he had nobody to blame but himself. Jake smiled to himself and took another deep inhale from his cigarette, and gazed over to the other woman at the other table next to theirs.

Michelle was wearing a silky gray dress and elegant long gloves that looked great against her tanned face and neck. She laughed a lot with bright red lips, which made those marvelous brown eyes shrink a bit. Jake looked at her dark shiny hair laid in large soft glamorous waves around her face and wondered if it was as soft as it seemed to be. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Freddy slapping him on the leg.

Hey! You’re not falling asleep are you, old man? It’s time for a dance soon, the short and heavyset Freddy blurted out and grinned after knocking back the last of the champagne in his glass, and wiped his mouth with his thick hand.

Oh no, I’m just sitting here trying to come up with a good enough excuse to avoid yet another slow dance with you, big guy, Jake replied calmly and knocked off some of the ash from his cigarette in the ashtray on the table.

The blonde woman on his left threw her head back with laughter and the two men exchanged glares over the table. Jake looked like he was getting ready to put her out of her loquacious misery, but Freddy shrugged at him and tilted his head to one side, as if he was begging to have a go with her. Yes, this was typical for Freddy. Well, he could have her if he wanted her, Jake thought. Jake gave Freddy a nod of approval, his resentment barely held back.

Freddy kept his act going, and put on a sad dramatic face and leaned over to Jake and told him off: Don’t be like that now sweetheart! After all, this is France! and roared with laughter.

Michelle couldn’t help but notice the loud woman in the yellow dress who was laughing all the time at the table next to theirs and smiled to herself, wondering what could be so funny. She let her eyes sweep over the two men at the table with curiosity as she sipped on her cocktail.

The short one sitting opposite the woman in yellow seemed to be in control of the amusements. He had his chubby arms in front of him on the tablecloth and his mouth was constantly moving, his words aimed towards the woman, his eyes small and piercing, his hair wet-combed and his face grinning. The woman laughed again in that squeaky way and the stocky guy leaned back in contentment on his chair, so that the other man became more visible to her.

Michelle turned her eyes to the more serious face of the three, and their eyes suddenly met, so she looked away and took another sip of her drink, a Pink Lady. Michelle enjoyed a nice gin cocktail and this was her favorite. It was tasty, but it was also cute and feminine, in a light shade of pink from the dashes of grenadine mixed with egg whites.

Jake abruptly sat up on his chair and crushed his cigarette in the ashtray. He was intrigued that the lovely lady was paying attention to their table, but didn’t want to let it show. He carelessly let his eyes wander over the other people in the room, then back to her for a second, and then he looked down.

Michelle was careful not to get caught staring at them again, she didn’t want to be impolite in any way, no matter how loud the woman in yellow at the table was. But she was curious of the two men and wanted to finish her study of them and her curiosity made her glance at Jake again.

He was now talking to the woman too, busy entertaining her with witty remarks about something. She looked a bit closer at Jake. Was he British? He sure didn't seem French. He was very good-looking with clear blue eyes and light brown hair, neatly cut, and wearing an immaculate tux. He was aware of his own bravado too, she could tell, but classy somehow... definitely older than she was, Michelle thought. He seemed to be in his thirties. Maybe he was on a blind date or something?  But who was that other guy in that case? A chaperon? She glanced at his chubby friend. Not likely.  She looked at Jake again. Something told her neither of them were the dating kind.

Jake caught her in the act of intensely watching him just as the band started playing a faster tune and people stood around them in masses to go to the dance floor. She looked away, toward the dance floor. Michelle and her friend Franny were left alone at their table as the two guys got up searching for someone to dance with. Franny leaned closer to Michelle.

It's sure great that summer is here! With your brother's birthday and Brad coming all the way from New York… Franny said, happy as could be, and looked over at the vast dance floor where the two young men were now swinging it with a blonde and a brunette. Look at them! Charming their way through anything and anyone. she paused to think and sipped on her Dry Martini. Do you ever wonder what would happen if any of us would go and get married? What would happen to our friendships, I mean, she continued and took her eyes off them to look at Michelle, biting off an olive from the toothpick in her cocktail glass.

What do you mean? Michelle said and took another sip from her Pink Lady and looked closer at Franny who had her red curly hair up on the sides just like Anne Shirley from Anne of Green Gables. She was Michelle’s best friend. Franny’s parents were British aristocrats that had moved to the South of France when Franny was nine years old. Her mother was terribly allergic to pollen, and had found the harsh landscape with palm trees and pines made her asthma so much better. So, the family had decided to move there permanently. Franny and Michelle had quickly become friends in middle-school in the English-speaking school they both attended there, bonding over books at library-hour.

Well, take Brad for an example. Do you really think he would fly over here each summer to be with us for a few weeks every year if he got married? Franny asked thoughtfully which created a cute wrinkle between her dark blue eyes matching the color of her silky dress. I don’t think so. Marriage would definitely break us up, she said with determination and chopped off the last of the two olives from the toothpick with her teeth that had been in her martini. Michelle frowned and looked at her friend. She thought Franny was being dramatic.

"No, it wouldn't!  I'm sure he'd take his wife with him on vacation. Come on, you were the one saying he would never come and visit us when he got that job in New York too, Michelle objected. Besides, why this big concern about Brad? You're not falling for him are you?" Michelle turned her head to search for any evidence of a secret infatuation on Franny’s face.

No, of course not! Don’t be stupid! Franny laughed. I'm just concerned that’s all, not only for Brad but he's the one most likely to disappear if ... Franny anxiously tried to explain her train of thought but couldn't quite find the right words. Michelle put her left hand on top of Franny’s forehead as if to check if she had got a fever.

Franny moved away from her with an insulted look, but she started laughing. She threw the toothpick on Michelle and they both laughed. The two of them had been friends for a long time and they loved to banter and joke around. It was usually Michelle that instigated it, she loved to tease people or put them on the spot. Franny simply fired back, and they both enjoyed the exchange. Michelle smiled and looked at her brother dancing, happy and carefree.

All jokes aside, Michelle realized that if a war broke out, they’d all be separated for sure. Hitler’s claim to rebuild Germany after it had been stripped of land and monetary resources after the Great War, was creating tension in Europe. No one knew if he just wanted the German speaking areas back from Austria and Czechoslovakia, or if he had a bigger and more sinister plan. Their housekeeper Cécile was Jewish, and her relatives in Germany had told her horrible rumors of the Nazis raiding Jewish stores and families disappearing in the night. Michelle shivered at the thought of it being true.

Franny suddenly looked up at a man passing their table. The man had stopped, but hesitated. Michelle looked up at the man as well. Her mouth opened slightly when she realized it was Jake from the table next to theirs standing there looking at her like he was about to say something to her. She stared back at him, waiting for him to say it, whatever it was. He opened his mouth, but remained mute.

He had the woman in yellow at his arm and she started pulling him away from them, completely unaware that he was looking at another woman. Michelle took her eyes off of him for a quick glance at her. She seemed really drunk.

Jake was just about to say something again when he realized that he must look like a fool, and caved in to the wishes of his dame and left the table after a hasty and embarrassed glance at Franny.

When he had finally left their table Franny started laughing flat out from the surprise. Who the heck was that?! What a wet smack, she laughed. Michelle laughed a bit too and shook her head like she had no idea, completely puzzled. She wondered what he was about to say to her.

Their fun was interrupted yet again when Mickey returned to their table to steal a dance with his sister, and Michelle was happy to accept. They swept off into the crowd. After a while she could see Jake in despair, trying to lead the blonde who was giggling and laughing so loud that people turned to look at her.

Michelle smiled to herself over her brother’s shoulder, it was fun to watch Jake trying to dance with the woman, only making him look like a dead hoofer. When Jake caught her eye she did not look away or hold her amusement back or tone it down out of politeness. Instead, she raised her eyebrow a bit to make a blunt hint on his peacock gal. Then she ignored him for the rest of the evening and devoted her time to Mickey. He always made her laugh, trying to swing her around the dance floor as if they were Fred and Ginger.

The evening turned into night and the popular night club The Golden Flamingo was closing. There was full commotion in the foyer with people waiting for cars or coats.

Jake had long ago given in to his situation, but he was quite proud of himself for being a gentleman. Though the poor doll had practically ruined his evening, let’s face it; she’d been a handful, he had remained confident and calm. Also, it amused him that the looker, the brunette, had openly made fun of him, of his predicament with her blatant stare. Now the evening was finally over and he could take the lady home.

His friend Freddy was nowhere to be found, as usual. Standing in line, waiting for their coats, he glanced over the crowd in the busy foyer and noticed Michelle and her friends on their way out the door. He could see her female friend say something in her ear that made her turn around and look at him. He was not discouraged by this at all, he kept looking at her and gave her a vague smile.

Michelle laughed at his obvious interest in her, not sure if she should be flattered or not. I can’t take this. He makes me feel like one of dad’s paintings in an exhibition or something, she fretted to Franny with slight contempt as they walked out the door, leaving the fun behind.

Chapter 2

The morning after Michelle woke up around seven in her bedroom upstairs and stepped down the stairs in her nightgown with bare feet. The housekeeper Cécile was busy making breakfast in the kitchen and she wanted a black coffee and a croissant so badly.

As Michelle reached the foot of the stairs clamored with clothes, shoes, umbrellas and paintings, the front door carefully opened a bit. Michelle stopped at the final step to see who it was.

Mickey’s tall stature silently slid through the door. He flinched when he saw Michelle on the stairs. She started giggling.

My gosh, you’re not getting in until now? she said in a low voice to her brother. His brown hair stood up, and he held his black tie jacket in his hand with a guilty look on his face.

Rob was having an after party, he whispered back at her. I slept on his couch, he continued. This was typical Mickey.

Qui est là? Cécile popped out her head from the kitchen, which was just next to the staircase. Michael, she rolled her eyes at him, and he shrugged and gave her a warm smile. His brown chestnut eyes could charm anyone. Pasqual, the white family mutt, came shooting out from the kitchen, jumping up on Mickey and licking his hands. Mickey rubbed his ears and quickly followed the housekeeper who was scolding him in French into the kitchen, and hurriedly grabbed two warm croissants from the plate on top of the oven and rushed by Michelle up the stairs.

I’m gonna take a quick nap. See you later, he whispered, shoving one croissant in his mouth and disappeared into his room upstairs. Mickey had graduated from college and wasn’t taking life too seriously. He had a boat and took tourists out for fishing trips, that was his job and he loved it.

Their parents weren’t up yet so Michelle had breakfast with Cécile in the kitchen. She walked up to the window set in between the green cabinets above the stove and looked out at the sandy beach with large waves crashing in over it. It was going to be yet another hot summer day, she thought, and grabbed a croissant from the plate. Cécile was pouring her a cup of coffee and the two chatted about the weather while Michelle took a seat at the large kitchen table.

Michelle was meeting her best friend Franny for lunch that day. They usually met up after a night out to dish on the previous night’s adventures. She took a shower, took the pins out of her hair that had created soft waves over night, gently brushed it and put a pale yellow dress on, it looked good against her dark hair and tanned body.

She decided to ride her bicycle from her family’s house on one of the beaches to the town centre that was imbedded around mountains covered in pine trees. Michelle rode her bike along the narrow and curvy roads and finally reached the town centre with the harbor full of yachts and boats. She spotted the large white Grand Hotel, situated further up on the dark green hill with a spectacular view of the harbor. Many of the houses were painted in pastel colors; powdery pink, baby blue or soft yellow tones and the town had a small town feel to it despite its glamour. People were friendly, said hello, or waved from a boat. It was a happy place and Michelle loved that it was her home.

The peninsula had allured the rich and famous throughout history, and when a direct train track had been built from Paris to the Riviera at the end of the 19th century, it was the go to place for holidays in Europe. The area was particularly popular among famous actors and authors, like Charlie Chaplin, Cary Grant and Somerset Maugham who all had summer houses or permanent residences on the charming and dramatic Côte d’Azur. It had the irresistible mix of small town charm with narrow streets, market places and lovely fountains combined with extreme luxury and secluded privacy. Its proximity to Nice and Monaco made it the perfect playground for people who wanted to spend time in the sun and money on champagne and casinos.

Michelle leaned her bike against the building to the café and walked around it. Franny hadn’t shown up yet, she was early, so she took a table with a view of the harbor below and waited for her friend. The sun was shining above the palm trees and she glanced up to look at a group of seagulls squealing in the blue air. She ordered a coffee while she waited and watched people walking by on the promenade. The women wore colorful dresses, and the men had rolled up their sleeves in the heat and wore khaki pants and Panama hats.

Michelle knew she was lucky to live in such a beautiful place in the world. Her father was a famous painter, but she didn’t think she was spoiled in any way. Her dad was just an American who had fought in France in the Great War and then stayed there. He’d met her mother in a small village in Provence, when his battalion was passing by. She had been a seamstress and helped mend one of his shirts. It was love at first sight, her parents had told the story a million times. When the war ended he married her and they settled down in Cap Ferrat where he became a painter, which had been a life-long dream. Apparently the rich and famous loved his work, and he was soon able to buy a nice house for him and the wife on the beach, where they’d started a family.

Sorry I’m late, Franny huffed, short of breath, as she swooped in on the chair at the other side of the table. Her red hair was braided in two pig tails with poufy ends and she wore a white shirt with short sleeves and mustard colored high waist pants.

That’s okay, I had a coffee, Michelle said,