Chapter 18 Chapter Eighteen

The opening date is set for the first Saturday in June.Since the rooms are already booked out, it is not surprising that the weekend is full. Nicole and Simon were having breakfast in the dining room when Ennis emerged from the kitchen.He walked over to their table, flicked his tongue disapprovingly, and checked his watch deliberately. You see, we get up so early in the morning, busy like a spinning top, what do we see?He pursed his lips tightly and raised his eyebrows. Our master and wife are leisurely nibbling on breakfast bread, blocking the way of those poor little boys!He clapped his hands to the group of young waiters in the standard black trousers and white shirts who were busily clearing the lunch table.Now, I think your Excellency can do one last check?

Nicole and Simon sipped their coffee as Ennis chased them upstairs.Francie, wearing a demure cotton dress (which still couldn't hide the strong effect of her new underwear), was patrolling the reception counter, passing by the beautiful antique mirror hanging opposite the reception counter every time, She never tires of checking her makeup.On the smooth and dull oak table under the mirror, there is a thick glass vase filled with fresh flowers, and the fragrance of the flowers is mixed with a faint smell of beeswax. Good morning, Franseva, how is everything? Before she could answer, the phone rang.She crossed the reception desk, pulled out an earring, and carefully tucked the microphone into her hair.

Good morning, Anise Hotel!She frowned, as if the phone line was not communicating well, are you looking for Mr. Xiao?Yes, which one?She looked in Simon's direction and covered the receiver with her hands. It was Mr. Jigler.She handed Simon the phone and put the earrings back on. Bob?Where are you? Los Angeles, it's the fucking middle of the night. You can't sleep, so call and wish us luck! of course.Now, listen, Hampton.Parker called me.His kid dropped out of college for a year and is going to France tomorrow, do you know a place called Lacoste? It's about twenty minutes from here.

Well, that's where the kid's going, art school or something.He's going there for the summer, and Pike wants you to keep an eye on him. what does he look like Damn, because all I know is, he probably has two heads and a habit of making jokes.I never met him at all.What information do you want?Blood test report?God, it's only summer! Simon took the note box. What's his name? Boni was named after his grandfather.Bernie.Hampton.Pike, their Texans have fucking weird names! Bob, but they're a big client! You are right! How's it going? same as usual.What's wrong?boring?Ji Gele's disapproving tone was almost mocking.Listen, I'm going to sleep, take care of that kid, okay?

In Simon's impression, this was the happiest conversation he had with Jigler in the past few years.Maybe that little beast has become mature and smooth!Now the whole world is his. Ennis went over and adjusted the potted plant.Scared me to death, I thought we were going to have an unexpected guest. Simon shook his head, Jigler would never come, he was allergic to beautiful scenery. For the next hour, they went through every bathroom, checking the bar, the pool, the tables on the terrace, where the atmosphere was inviting under the big canvas umbrellas.The sun is high, the umbrellas are high, the busy morning is over, and Mrs. Pan is drinking the first glass of wine of the day.The hotel is ready to open for business.

Simon's arm slipped quietly around Nicole's waist, and they strolled to the poolside cabana bar, where Ennis was instructing the waiter on the proper handling of the olives and peanuts. Well, can I give them a drink? They sat under the shadow formed by the eaves. There was a bottle of white wine in the ice cube, and the glass was filled with wine, forming a misty patch on the surface.Simon said: This is for the two of you.You guys are doing a great job!They smiled back, their white teeth contrasting with their bronzed faces. Ennis said: This is to respect the guests.Whoever they are, may the Lord bless them.He raised his head, looked across the terrace, took a quick sip of his wine, honey, here they come.

Franswa stood on the terrace, she raised a hand to block her eyes, and looked at the poolside cabin.Beside her were three figures dressed in black, the sun shining on the dim glass and reflecting on the utterly pale skin.Here comes the decent lady. They stepped down the stairs, admiring the beauty in front of them.Franswa led them to the poolside hut, and they revealed their identities one after another. The Journal of Interior Design.It's a great location, really great. Queen Harper Magazine, are we the first there? Elfe Magazine Interiors Section.You must tell me who designed this appearance, it is so handsome!

Simon was confused.These girls are about in their twenties or early thirties, as if they came out of the same wardrobe, wearing almost the same uniform, loose black tops, black trousers, black round metal-framed sunglasses, and neatly combed hair They have long hair, they have the pale skin of office girls who haven't seen the sun for a long time, and they also carry big backpacks.They took the wine and announced their names, which made Simon even more puzzled.They all seemed to be named Lucinda. They leaned back in their chairs and congratulated each other on reaching the end of the world safely. The ladies of Interior Design Magazine are the first to recover from the fatigue of travel.Biting a black olive, she asks, can I make a quick circle before the others arrive?

Ennis stood up before Simon had a chance to answer.Let me come, dear ladies.Take your drinks and I'll be a good guide.He led them away, elaborating vividly as he led them past the fountain: This was found at a junk center not far from here.Thankfully his bladder is functioning normally.Then entered the restaurant. Simon shook his head and smiled at Nicole, which I think Eun must have liked. I think so too.She raised her face and looked at him appraisingly, don't you like it? It's like taking a client on a tour of an advertising agency.For the first few months, all I could think about was getting the place ready, and when it was done I don't know, it seemed like a pretty different job.He leaned over and reached out to touch Nicole's cheek, don't frown anymore, or you will scare the guests away.Let's go and see if anyone else is coming.

The small reception area was packed and noisy.Five or six advertisers who came from the advertising film show, with their girlfriends or wives, rushed to squeeze in front of Franseva, happily speaking to her in English mixed with French.They wore jeans, sneakers, Panama hats, Ray-Ban sunglasses and Rolex watches on their freshly tanned wrists.Duffel bags are scattered all over the place, where is the bar?The shouts were mixed with an attempt to help Franseva get her name on the passenger list.Then a few ruddy faces, several of them with freshly cut hair, symbolizing their free, creative energy, turned to look at Simon and Nicole as they approached the reception counter.Acquaintances met Simon and rushed to shake his hand and give him a big pat on the back, and some friends hugged him.A few minutes later, the two waiters began to bring the luggage and their owner to the room, and gradually restored order here.

After Simon came to the reception counter, he helped the frantic Francie check the name and room number, and told her that a lot of people were speaking English together, and it sounded noisy, especially those who were famous in the advertising industry. This is especially true of people.He asked her if anyone else had arrived. She pointed to the list and said: Yes, Mr. Murray.He is a very charming man. Simon was thinking, I guess so, the old moose, as he dialed Philip's room number! Hello?Simon had never heard of a single syllable that sounded like you were being invited to a shady weekend.He probably thought that Franseva was going to come up to help him pack his luggage. Sorry, Philip, it's me, Simon.Welcome to Basiye. My friend, it's amazing!I had just arrived when three girls from the catering came up. Don't put gold on your face.They belong to the magazine.Did you bring no one? She was pleasantly surprised and was in the bathroom at the moment. If you have the knack for dealing with women, why not come down for a drink. Simon put the phone down and glanced at the guest list.All ten rooms have been moved in, and two rooms remain vacant.He looked at Fransova.How are you? Yes, it's okay!She smiled and twitched one shoulder, and Simon thought she'd be causing a ruckus among the waiters before long. At this time, there was the sound of a car driving in from outside, and Simon walked to the door.Slim Johnny.Harris, wearing a canary yellow cotton suit and Southern French attire, stepped out of a small rented Peugeot.They shook hands over the hood and the blond heads of the passenger next door. You look pretty good for a middle-aged unemployed man.Harris pointed to the inside of the car, this is Angela.He refrained from blinking, my research assistant.A slender hand emerged from the hood, waving her thin fingers. come in!I'll help you with your luggage. Angela blinked in the sunlight and removed her sunglasses from her hair as she stepped out of the car.She was about a foot shorter than Harris, and she was covered in black from the throat down to the pelvis.The only color difference is the red open-toed sandals on her feet, and the toenails are also polished with matching Cordan.She looks like she is eighteen years old, but she has twenty years of experience.She smiled sweetly at Simon.I'm in a hurry, where is the women's dressing room? The whole hotel suddenly became active.There was splashing in the swimming pool, and there was constant laughter in the bar.The ladies in the advertising circle have already put on sunscreen, exposed to the sun, and sprayed the Avitamin mineral spray on their faces from time to time.Ladies from magazine media, avoid the sun for fear of being too late.Jumping from one shadow to another, taking reference photos and recording confidential words into their small black tape recorders.Ennis moved from group to group cordially, smiling and nodding, directing the waiters at the bar, while Mrs. Pan, wearing a large apron, made a final round of the tables to make sure everything was ready. Simon found Nicole and Murray sitting on the terrace, and he showed Nicole his small camcorder with an intimacy Simon thought was inappropriate, with his arms wrapped around the camera as he helped her point the camera at the pool. her shoulders. Simon said: You have violated the rules, don't touch the person who operates the camera. Philip grinned, stood up and hugged Simon.Congratulations!This is really awesome!How did you find this place?Why didn't you tell me about Nicole?I have never seen such a lovely woman. You are such a shameless old pervert. You really don't seem like a person with a proper career.where have you been Fuck Philip, we did a commercial in Bora Bora, and it was hell. It's not hard to imagine.Simon looks into the pool, where is your friend? Alan?Philip waved to the restaurant, where she was dressing for lunch, and after dinner she had to change to get to the pool, and also for dinner.She gets bored with her clothes every three hours. A model for Her magazine? Vogue magazine. oh! Nicole smiled.They say women are bitches.She looked at her watch, honey, it's time we invited them in for lunch.Is everyone here? I haven't seen Billy yet.Chandler, but we can start first. The guests moved, led by the sun and the lazy mood evoked by the wine, and Simon and Ennis greeted them on the balcony outside the restaurant and led them to their seats.Simon noticed that Franseva was looking down from the upstairs window at the various ladies in the advertising industry downstairs, their skins were bronzed and soft, and they wore long skirts or hakamas in addition to their swimsuits; magazines The girls in the club are all in black and look as cold as ice.Angela is wrapped in pink lycra; Alan, with her cropped hair (obviously, she must have been to Bora Bora too), is dressed in Jaina green silk, split almost to her hips.On the men's side, except for Philip who was wearing white trousers and a shirt, the rest of the men were wearing slightly longer shorts and T-shirts.Simon thought, their clothes are obviously out of line with their status; they look like laborers who have learned their backs, until you see their female companions, famous watches and famous cars, you suddenly realize that you have misjudged. He waited until everyone was seated and tapped the side of the glass with his fork. Thank you to everyone who came from London, Paris and Cannes to celebrate the opening of this hotel.I think you've all seen Nicole and Ennis, they're the ones who made it all happen.But you must have not met our chef, Mrs. Pan.He extended his arm and pointed to the kitchen.Mrs. Pan, standing at the door, raised her glass.This woman's cooking skills are enough to make a man moan with pleasure. Tonight we have a party where you'll meet the locals.In the meantime, please let any of us know if you have any needs.When you return home, remember to spread the word about the hotel.We need financial resources. Simon sat down, and the waiters began to file in, while the drinking and chatting continued.He looked at his face under the gentle light that the big umbrella filtered out of the sun, and then smiled at Nicole.There's nothing better than sitting outside in early summer enjoying lunch and the stunning view!They all seem to like the restaurant.When he picks the first mussel out of its shell, dips it in homemade mayonnaise, and pops it into his mouth, he enjoys the bliss of world peace. Mr Simon, I'm sorry!Franswa bit her lower lip lightly and stood behind him.Simon put his fork down.A gentleman is looking for you, and he is a little excited. Simon followed her upstairs to the telephone at the reception desk. Hello? Simon?I'm Billy, and I'm in a little trouble. Simon can hear him smoking, where are you? I'm in Kavillon, I've met a demon! what happen? I parked the car and went to buy cigarettes, and when I came back, this guy actually ran into my car. Did he run away? No.He was only four feet six inches tall, so I dragged him out and beat him up. They arrested you for preventing them from stealing a car? Not really.That's not my god damn car.My car is the one next door. They all look the same, just a small white car.Anyway, he howled like a stuck pig, and the police came.They are all beasts! God, I'll be there right away.Don't say anything, just stay there obediently. I mean it. The car was hot as an oven, and Simon's stomach was churning from missing lunch.Billy.Another victory for Chandler, the most combative photographer in all of London.Just leave him alone in the bar for five minutes, and when you get back someone's bound to start a fight.The most troublesome thing is that his big mouth is not as good as his in other aspects, and Simon can't remember how many baskets of grapes were sent to the hospital, which either broke people's jaws, broke their nose bridges, or broke their ribs.He was once knocked out by a tall female model that he couldn't help but want to get on his stomach.Simon had to like him, but he was an out-and-out social debt. Cavillon's police station, at the end of a row of cafes, is full of nervous people and the smell of black tobacco.Simon braced himself for an apology and a laugh, then walked over to the table.The policeman stared at him quietly with a stern face, with a threatening taste. Good morning.I have a friend here who is British.There is some misunderstanding here.The policeman said nothing.Simon took a deep breath and continued: He thought his car had been stolen.It turned out not to be, and he regretted it very much. The policeman finally turned to the door behind him and shouted, before finally speaking to Simon that the captain was taking care of it. The captain, with a beard several centimeters longer than the policeman, came out smoking a cigarette with a cold look on his face.Simon repeated what he had just said.The captain's expression became more and more cool. He breathed out through the smoke: This is a serious matter, the victim has been taken to the St. Rohit Clinic for X-rays.Bones may be broken. God, Simon thought, the most cultivated blow he'd had in twenty years had come from this spot.Captain, I will pay the medical bills as a matter of course. The captain brought Simon into his office, and the notes had already been made, based on the characteristics of the perpetrator, and details of Simon's situation in France were also noted, and he was asked to show his passport.They discussed compensation for the injured.The whole office was filled with smoke.Simon started to have a headache and his stomach was churning. Two and a half hours passed, and finally the team leader finally ruled that sufficient written information had been prepared, and the prisoner was led out.He was wearing black slacks and a button-down shirt.His thin, weather-beaten face, under a head of disheveled gray hair, carried a momentary expression of relief. oh buddy.Sorry to involve you in this, it's been a fight. The two of them nodded and bowed out of the police station, and walked quickly down the street, not daring to stop for a hundred yards.Billy finally took a breath, as if he'd been holding it all afternoon.I can have a good drink. Billy, Simon's hand on my friend's lean shoulder, if you think I'm going to take you to a bar, have fifteen bouts with arabs with a knife, and spend the rest of the weekend in the police station, then You are dead wrong! Billy's face suddenly turned into a smile.Just asking casually!He patted Simon on the cheek and said: Nice to meet you.It would have been better if there hadn't been this accident.However, I really think that kid is after my car.Well, what's going on? When they returned to the hotel, the guests by the pool were all dazed and lethargic due to the baptism of food, wine and sunshine.Simon was watching the poolside scene from the terrace when Billy came out with a bottle of beer.It was obvious that Billy had recovered from his emotional trauma. He told Simon: Well, my darling, this is life.He overlooks the pool.Oh baby, just watching this scene is enough to make me cry.If you can make six handkerchiefs out of what they wear, consider yourself lucky! The ladies were clearly determined to get a good tan, so they were naked except for bright triangles of cloth slightly smaller than their large sunglasses that covered the important parts.Simon glanced sideways and elbowed Billy.In the shade of the tall cypress trees, only the top of the head was bare. That's our neighbor.I think he won't be able to watch TV this summer. Simon took Billy to the poolside and introduced him to everyone.He watched happily as the photographer insisted on shaking hands with every lady, his head bent as hard as he could on a piece of suntan lotion-smeared jade body.When he asked Angela if she had any experience as a model (he had used this opening line of conversation many times), Simon left him and went to find Nicole and Ennis. Everyone said it was a beautiful night, windless and warm, with the last light in the sky and the mountains a deep, hazy purple.The terrace was packed with locals and foreigners, and Ennis, in bright pink linen, encouraged them to mingle as much as possible, and they got to know each other politely.Nicole and Simon, with several bottles of champagne in their hands, moved slowly among the crowd, refilling the wine for the guests, and occasionally overheard fragments of the conversations of the guests.The French are talking about politics, their trip to France and the restaurants here.Of course, the advertising industry is not far from the line.Immigrants from other places and foreigners who own holiday cottages compared the catastrophe caused by bad plumbing to each other, and with an expression of disbelief and satisfaction, they shook hands with each other to congratulate each other on the recent substantial increase in real estate value. Chandler's camera, aimed at the beautiful woman; he always said that women can never resist fashion photographers.The magazine girl wearing a black uniform and sunglasses now puts on a loose light-colored top, leggings and accentuated makeup. Such a scene is a great inspiration for the designer who specially filled the old Provence farmhouse into a high-end residential area in London. inspiration.Harris watched them silently, just waiting for the right moment to invite them to drink and let the other party take the bait.Serious and prudent people cherish words like gold and speak carefully. Simon walked into a group of people, and Murray was among them.A French writer complained of being too famous, while an heiress from Saint-Rume covered herself with kilos of gold jewels and pouted from time to time. Johnny, is there anything to gain? Harris said with a relieved smile: "Have no idea what they're talking about."What I need is gossip in English.He sipped his champagne, and it would have been nice to have a loose and talkative immigrant. Simon searched among the nodding and laughing crowd until he found the plump, bronze-faced lady with shoulder-length hazel curly hair he was looking for.He said: That's your goal.She's a realtor and has been here for fifteen years.If you want a rumor to spread like the flu here, all you have to do is tell her confidentially.We all call her Radio Luberon. They entered the crowd, and Simon put his arm around the woman's plump, bare shoulders.I want you to meet a gentleman in the media.You can tell him all about our neighbors.Johnny, this is Diana Sho. JohnnyHarris.They shook hands.I write a column for The News.Simon told me maybe he could tell me a local message. She looked at him with her big blue eyes, and giggled.Well, where do you want to start?Top ten rice gentlemen?An actor who no longer acts?What interior designers call the mafia?People feel like those people don't belong here, but it's definitely going to cause a ruckus. Johnny said: I can't wait to hear from you.He took the bottle of champagne from Simon's hand, and what we say later is a secret between you and me, and of course my millions of readers. She giggled again, honey, as long as you don't write my name.She accepted more champagne, and Simon understood that she was half drunk.Now, do you see that tall, stooped, respectable-looking guy with the white hair?he has three wives Simon bid them farewell, leaving Harris, who was bound to have a productive night.He felt top-heavy from drinking on an empty stomach, and a hand took hold of his arm as he prepared the buffet in the restaurant.Turning around, it turned out to be Jean-Louis in a bright red shirt and vanilla ice cream coat, and beside him was a man in a dark blue suit and tie. Yet.Louis smiled and said: Allow me to introduce you to my colleague, Anrego from Marseilles. Andrego must have just arrived from a meeting of senior executives. His clothes are cut and his hair is conservative.What was clear, however, was his calmness.Unblinking dark eyes and a scar on his neck that slanted into his collar.It's not about origami airplanes at the office.Jean-Louis tells Simon that he works in the security industry.Only then did the lower half of Anrego's face smile.He said that if the hotel had any troubles and did not want to bother the police, he would be honored to provide assistance.He lit a cigarette and studied Simon from the smoke.Such a beautiful building, close to Marseille, may attract the coveted eyes of many people.Jean-Louis shook hands and gritted his teeth.We live in dangerous times. It suddenly seemed to Simon that Anrego was channeling the conversation into the business of the hotel without knowing it.Although he was still polite and had a not-so-sincere smile on his face, he seemed to exude a threatening atmosphere.This is different from the general security industry.Thank God, he thought, for training him in advertising.At least I know, how to deal with the current situation. He said: Anrego, let's have lunch together some other day!Then we can talk quietly. Mrs. Gibbon moved cautiously in the forest full of human feet, always on guard against pointed high heels and spilled champagne, while her nose searched the slate for any snacks that had been accidentally dropped.It came to a stone bench by the terrace and tilted its head.There is something big and interesting under the stool.It smelled, it didn't move.It took a tentative bite and it turned out to be nice and soft.So it picked it up, found a place without noise and human footsteps, and quietly dismembered it. Half an hour later, the Harper Queen girl decided to touch up her makeup and reached down to get her bag.Her scream cut through the gossip, and Simon hurried through the crowd, anticipating, to see Chandler and his pissed-off husband almost fighting. The lady in Harper's Queen cried: My bag, someone has taken my bag. Simon put the thought of eating aside again, and joined the frantic lady in her frantic search, from the lavender bed through the crowd to the swimming pool.While they were looking for it, the female superior told the contents of the bag hysterically.She had put almost her whole life in that bag, and the thought of losing her organizer gave her another wave of despair.Simon's stomach was rumbling and his head started to hurt again. He couldn't listen to what Jean-Louis said. The bag had already crossed the Italian border, and the local thieves were so fast.that's all. A member of the ad circle hurried over to Simon, the sunglasses dangling from his neck still bouncing on his chest.It's all right, we found it. Simon's headache eased slightly.Thank God, where is the stuff? Under the big table in the restaurant. The owner almost fainted from the comfort, and then was overly frightened.What if someone took everything in it and stole her life, even the organizer and other phone numbers that had been carefully collected over the years?For a moment, frustration was written on her face. The ad man said: No, no, no, I don't think anything was lost. When they arrived at the buffet, they saw a small group of people hunched over, apparently talking to something hidden under the tablecloth. One of them looked up, we'd tempted it with salmon mousse and ham pie, but it just wasn't interested. Simon and the lady who had lost her bag were kneeling on the ground like this, looking at the things under the tablecloth.Mrs Gibbon glared at them too, her pink lips moving to reveal a fragment of the cover of a blue British passport.There was a few barks before it went on to attack the Tempest tampon. The woman exclaimed: Oh my God! Simon also said: Damn, where did Ennis go! Franseva is trying her best to get to know the British photographer.He was charming indeed, and it was flattering to be in his favour, even though he could not speak a few words of French. He said: Now, honey, let's take a few more shots for Vogue, you know Vogue?Yes, it is the top magazine.He stood back, head tilted.OK, just take a picture on the sofa here.He patted the sofa cushions, and Franseva sat on the edge.No, I think it's better to lie down and relax, okay?Can I?He adjusted Franseva's body until she was fully stretched out on the sofa.There, it's better!He's kneeling beside her and I feel like this foot is going to bend, that's it, and then these two buttons here, let me and the skirt, that's it, it's great Ennis walks from the reception area to the restaurant, his white and pink striped espadrilles making his walk quiet.He stopped suddenly, his eyebrows almost raised as high as his hairline, and he coughed a few times on purpose. Chandler looks back, smiles, and says, Well, here are some test shots.You didn't see my light meter, did you? Isn't it hidden in the blouse of the young girl who said I took it?You haven't seen enough, have you? We're doing an artistic pose, well, that's all.He blinked, listen, you better go away.I heard Simon calling for you. Ennis said disapprovingly: I will let Mr. Pognato come up, then you can take an artistic photo of father and daughter together.Don't start until he arrives, okay? The group of people at the dining table watched Ennis reprimanding Mrs. Gibbon, so that Mrs. Gibbon didn't even want a snack, and went to Mrs. Pan in the kitchen with her tail between her legs to win her sympathy.The lady gathered the remains together in desperation, leaving a wet and gnawed pile on the table.Her organizer was fine, but it was unclear whether the credit card would pass through a machine that didn't read the tooth marks, and she needed a new passport.She stared at Simon, her bright red lips drawn into an angry curve.It must be dealt with. But how to deal with it?The British consulate in Marseille is closed for the weekend.On Sunday morning, Simon tried to track down the consul by phone.Ennis led the lady to find the nearest bottle of champagne, and the onlookers also dispersed, walking towards the sound of music coming from the pool. It was almost midnight when Simon sat down at a small table in the corner of the terrace to have lunch, enjoying the sight of the lights of thousands of houses and the relaxation of being alone.Everything was fine except for the damn dog.No one got too drunk, no one argued, and Chandler didn't get punched.One day, someone will fall into the pool.All in all, it was a fun night.Simon gorged on his salmon, letting himself relax. The boss took a break.Harris pulled up a chair and sat down.what happened to your faceDo you suffer from pain from laughing? Simon swallowed his food and nodded, what about you? not feeling well.Harris poured himself some wine.Angela never told me she had a favorite.She just shuffled through those toads and left me standing there like an idiot.Really shocked me.She doesn't look academic at all (Note: Refers to conservative style or lack of innovative style.). Simon remembered that Angela was dressed in a short dress with an open back and high heels, which attracted Mrs. Penn's envious eyes, and he smiled.The French do like preppy, especially long-legged blondes.Tell me, is Radio Luberon interesting? Harris took the notes out of his pocket and flipped through them.It's amazing, but I can't write most of the stuff.You know an old guy around here who pays girls to climb up the curtains while he watches and listens to Wagner, and he doesn't like port very much.He is an Englishman. Simon said: "He was probably British because the French don't drink wine. Let me see, Harris looks at his notes, he knows a lot about carousing in the ruins, fighting each other in the real estate world, and what decorators call the mafia, fake antiques, And outright bastards like our friends Crows and his disciples Harris Pause for a moment, then shake their heads and say: I think the most exciting thing that happens here is watching the grapes grow up.In addition, you can choose any subject from adultery to Swiss bank accounts.Not at all like Weybridge. Simon said: I see.He looked over Harris' shoulder, just in time to see Jean-Louis and Anrego smiling at him. Jean-Louis said: "Great night, I'm delighted that the handbag incident has finally been settled and resolved.It turned out to be four-legged. Funny, isn't it? Simon said: Very humorous! Anrego raised his hands to his ears, his thumb and little finger outstretched (that is, the gesture of making a phone call), and had lunch together? Anrego, I'll be looking forward to my lunch date with you. Goodbye, Simon! Harris turned and watched the two men leave.The one in the dark suit looks like an evil jerk!who is he?A local politician? security industry. If I were you, I wouldn't even pay the deposit. Harris looked down at the poolside hut, Angela and Mu Lie were dancing happily on the dance floor, and Harris decided to join in.Simon went back to the food.When Nicole found him two hours later, he was asleep in a chair with an unfinished cigar between his fingers.