She gave me her sun-shiny smile. “I noticed her admiring the sign outside. Has she not been to the club before?”
I shook my head. “I only took the place over last year. This is her first visit with everything finished.”
“Oh, really?”
I tugged at my shirt cuff, eyeing her steadily. Was she digging for information? “Sophie’s mother keeps her busy.”
Chloe paused. “No weekend trips?”
“She’s at boarding school. The upheaval is too much.”
Chloe furrowed her brow. “Upheaval? Please forgive me ifI’m completely overstepping, but you’re her father. Surely, spending timewith you isn’tdisruptive?”
I swallowed the ball that’d formed at my throat. How to unpack that question? Thanks to Valerie, Sophie and I were so distant. But admitting I barely knew her hardly painted me as father of the year.
No. It was better to set expectations early. Hint at the lack of “family unity” to save questions later. “Sophie’s mother and I aren’t…”
Sophie cut my explanation short, returning to the table, a breadbasket balanced in her arms. “All sorted,” she said, sliding back into her seat. “Fifi invited Chloe and I for brunch tomorrow. I said yes. I hope that’s okay?”
Chloe blinked. “You know Fifi?”
Of course she’d ask. I’d just told her Sophie never came to the club.
“Oui,” Sophie said, pulling apart a roll. “She and Papa go way back.”
Chloe’s gaze drifted towards the bar, where Fifi was laughing with a guest. “She’s beautiful,” she murmured.
The skin on the back of my neck tightened. What did she mean by that? And why did I suddenly feel the urge to clarify our “just old friends” status?
Ignoring the weight settling behind my ribs, I checked my watch. “Where’s the food? We have a new chef. He’s very good, but a little temperamental.”
Chloe looked at me, a smirk on her lips. “Must be catching.”
“Sorry?”
Her eyes widened. “I was just saying I‘m sure he’shatchingsomething brilliant back there.”
I pressed my lips into a tight line. That wasn’t what I heard.
Sophie grabbeda breadstick, breaking it in half. “Relax, Papa.”
If only it were that easy. I was treading on eggshells around my daughter. Trying to please her, impress her, even. Now I had to fend off thinly disguised barbs from my nanny?
The same nanny I couldn’t stop thinking about while getting ready tonight.
Waving her breadstick in the air like a wand, Sophie turned to Chloe. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you’re not what I expected a nanny to look like.”
She chuckled. “I get that a lot. But what did you expect? A carpet bag and an umbrella?”
Sophie looked blank. “Pardon?”
“Oh, sorry. It’s just that one of my business rivals gets a lot of attention with that look. You probably haven’t heard of her. You’re too young.”
I shot Chloe a sideways glance. The mischievous look on her face made my jaw tighten. What was she up to? But Sophie looked genuinely engaged for the first time all day, so I held my tongue.
“Attention from who?”
Chloe settled back in her seat, breaking up a bread roll in a mess of crumbs on the tablecloth. “The paparazzi. Maybe your father didn’t tell you. I’m what people call a celebrity nanny.”
