Sophie shook her head slowly. “For two people who hardly see each other, you sure know her well.”
Something warm crept across my chest. I liked this girl’s spirit. She seemed much older than the twelve years she’d spent on this earth.
Maxime chuckled—actually chuckled—the sound deep and throaty. Lines cut the corners of his eyes, and it was all I could do not to join in. He looked spectacular. All the weariness and tension had dropped away from his face to reveal an actual, reasonable human being.
“You forget,” he said. “I met her long before you did.” He sighed. “She means well, Sophie. I’m sure Chloe can help you with any schoolwork you need done this holiday. It’s what she’s here for, after all.”
At the mere suggestion, my gut flipped like a pancake. Why hadn’t I been told this crucial detail? If I’d known, I might’ve turned the job down.
I was the last person who should help with schoolwork. But with the looming spectre of returning to London and my mother’s matchmaking plans, I chose to stay silent.
Then to add insult to awkwardness, my stomach grumbled. Loudly. Like a bear waking from hibernation. Both Maxime and Sophie looked at me.
I grimaced. “It’s been a while since I arrived. I’m kind of hungry.” Not to mention I’d given my leftover breakfast to the kitten.
Maxime’s gave a shake of his head. “I didn’t think. I’m sorry.” He glanced at his daughter. “Maybe as it’s your first night, Sophie, we could have dinner here.”
He turned to a shelfof what I assumed were cookbooks. “We have plenty of recipes. Maybe you and Chloe could cook something together while I mend my net.” He sent me a pointed look and an icy fist clenched inside my chest.
Not just fromthe mention of the net, either. The books were thick and, well, very French. Pulling out Google Translate and having it read the recipes aloud in English was probably the worst way to make a good impression.
But as if St. Lawrence, patron saint of cookery, had granted me a stay of execution, Sophie sighed. “Papa. It’s my first night, couldn’t we go to the Club? I can’t wait to see what it looks like now. And I haven’t seen Fifi for a year!”
Hearing the name Fifi, I glanced at Maxime from beneath my lashes. Was that his girlfriend? Despite his locked-vault vibe, someone as hot as he, wouldn’t struggle on the dating front.
His face brightened. “You want to see the club?”
Sophie grinned. “Of course I do! I bet you’ve made it look great.”
The lines on his forehead softened, and then he smiled—actually smiled.
Something shifted in my belly.
He had teeth. Nice, straight, white teeth.
I smiled, too. And I couldn’t lie—it felt great. As if all the tension in the room had crumbled and the sun peeped out from behind a cloud.
Houston, the Eagle had finally landed. I’d witnessed a genuine smile from Maxime, and I had to say, the look suited him.
8
MAXIME
Irubbed the back of my neck as a cool breeze blew up the beach from the sea, whispering over my skin. Sitting at a table for dinner in my own restaurant felt strange. Usually, I’d be making drinks or helping in the kitchen. I never played host, though. I left that to Fifi. If I threatened to swap jobs and run front of house, she’d probably handcuff me to an oven.
Chloe’s laughter drifted from the bar. I turned to see her deep in conversation with Fifi and two grinning customers. Apparently, she’d met my manager earlier this morning, and they already seemed like best friends.
My nanny smiled, her eyes alight, and something in my gut shifted. What tale had she spun to amuse them? And how did she find it so easy to get on with strangers? I gave a tiny shake of my head. She and I were very different creatures.
Leaning back in mychair,the woven netting overhead moved in the breeze. The material served as both a sunshade and a canopy over the club’s long tables. It swayed gently, knocking our shell decorations together with a tinkle.
Sophie sat opposite, knee deep in a book, but as the breath of wind blew her hair over her face, she looked up. The glow ofthe table’s tea lights danced on her skin, and after a long beat, she looked around andsmiled.“You’ve done a good job with the place, Papa. It’s beautiful.”
I nodded, drawing in a deep breath of salty air. My collar scratched against my neck, and I tugged at the cotton to loosen it. Shirts weren’t my thing. I despised formality.But I wanted my daughter to be proud of me and of what I’d achieved. If looking smart and tying back my hair made a difference, I’d consider a full-body makeover.
Chloe, on the other hand, had looked at my clothesas if I’d grown a second head.
She had to be the least nanny-like nanny I’d ever met. As we left the villa. She’d practically skipped down the steps like a child, and her sundress looked as if someone had bumped into her with open paint cans. To top it all; she’d tied her hair in braids.
