Harry Styles is spending the summer in a quiet villa on the French Riviera, hoping to find inspiration for his third album. It's not happening. When he sees a beautiful windsurfer racing across the waves, he believes lessons might be a good distract...
Lia checked her schedule. She had no one new lined up after July fourteenth, the national holiday. She would cancel and refund her standing lessons after that date, pointing them in the direction of other competent instructors.
On Saturday she loaded all of her boards and gear in the truck. There was a shed at the house she could use for storage. She emptied the refrigerator, filling a cooler with the perishables to add to the mix in Harry's kitchen. The cottage seemed forlorn, counters and tables bare, windows locked tight, and curtains drawn shut. She left the water and electric on, just in case.
Lia's suitcases fit in the bed of the truck with the gear, but her sewing machine and supplies rode in the passenger seat. She wondered where she would set them up.
Although she could come back to her house any time, every day if she wanted to, her eyes still prickled as she watched it disappear in her rear-view mirror. She suddenly felt that nothing would ever be the same again. Shaking her head at the foolish thought, she drove on.
There was an addition to the fleet when she arrived. A red and white vintage convertible sat under a temporary carport, next to the studio trailer. She had seen similar ones in films and on television, but didn't recognize the make and model. She wondered who had come to visit, and how they had brought their own garage.
Harry came out the front door, Ed and Nigel in tow. Without even saying hello he peered into the back of the truck and smiled.
"You've come to stay."
"I have."
The Musketeers carried the equipment to the shed then helped Harry and Lia move all of her things into the house. She was confused when Harry stopped at the last door before the staircase to his rooms and opened it.
"Welcome to your room!"
Lia followed him in, a little disappointed. Had she been foolish to think she would share with Harry? They passed between a bathroom and walk-in closet and into the room itself. Facing the terrace and pool, shaded by Harry's balcony above, it was bright but cool. Two single beds, separated by a nightstand, took up the back wall, and a large worktable filled the rest of the space. It was even more spartan than Harry's bedroom.
"I thought you'd like to have a space that's all yours, for when you want to sew or just get away from us... from me. You will want to, and that's fine. I'm sure I'll want some time of my own as well, so you'll have a comfortable place to be. What do you think?"
"Harry, this is perfect. And incredibly thoughtful. I'm hoping to finally come up with some original designs when we... if we..."
"You'll join me?"
"Yes. You'll have to tell me how to make the most of the experience. I'm looking forward to it. I've done some research." She felt a blush spreading over her cheeks. "It sounds as if sex could be something slightly miraculous."
"We'll have time for ourselves, I promise. Now, why don't you settle in. I'm going out to the studio to set up some things for tomorrow; I'll be back in an hour. Shall we go for a drive before dinner?"
"Oh, the car! Is it yours?"
"I've rented it for the summer. It's a fifty nine Corvette. I love a nice drive. My favorite times are dawn and sunset, but sometimes I'll go in the middle of the night, when no one else is on the roads. I feel free. You'll love it."
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