“Urchins?” I spat out the word.
“You know, the local children. You forget, Ihavevisited the village.”
How could I forget? She’d come just before I opened the club—couldn’t resist the urge to check up on what kept me so busy in Furze. She’d been more impressed than I expected, but I’d wondered if it was more to do with my investor than Méduse itself.
“What would be wrong with her spending time with the local children?”
Hadn’t I grown up as one of those supposed “urchins”? A different village, yes. But I’d lived my early life outside, playing with friends and getting into trouble.
“They’re not a good fit for her. Sophie has opportunities. She has the world at her feet. She’s going places. How many of the locals get the same chances your daughter does?”
She layered enough emphasis intoyourto buckle steel—enough to remind me how lucky I was that Valerie was there to provide these so-calledopportunities. That’s what she always did.
I ground my teeth at the grate in her voice. I could see Sophie in the near distance. She laid on one of the club’s sunbeds, a book in her hand and headphones clamped over her ears.
Chloe assured me daily that she listened to educational podcasts and not music. I had my suspicions, but I’d never admit them to Valerie. If Sophie kept up with her holiday homework, she deserved some downtime, too.
My mind whipped back to the fun in the kitchen last night. The warmth. The laughter. The joy.
I’d fallen asleep with a smile on my lips for the first time in a long-time.
“Maxime?” Valerie’s voice lassoed me from my thoughts. “I have to go, but please make sure she’s on top of her schoolwork.I don’t want her scrambling at the end of the holidays, or failing at something, wishing she’d tried harder.”
A glint of light caught my eye from the club, and I craned to see inside. Fifi hunched over the bar, examining the coffee machine.
“Maxime? Did you hear me?”
I stepped past a snoozing Sophie, and into the shade of the club. “Sorry, yes. I’m on it.”
“On what, Maxime? Because I’ve got the distinct feeling you’re not actually listening.”
She’d be half right. “You told me to keep Sophie away from the local hooligans and to make sure she spends every day with the schoolbooks. Does that cover it?”
I imagined Valerie’s pursed lips. I didn’t want to cause tension between us, but she had to realise that I was one of Sophie’s parents, too. That what I said or the decisions I made mattered.
“I don’t appreciate your tone, Max.”
I paused at her use of my shortened name. She’d been the only one ever to call me Max—usually when she was trying to exert pressure or remind me who was really in the driver’s seat of our relationship. As if shortening my name stripped away even more of my power.
Not today.
“I have to go, Valerie. I’ll remember what you said.”
“Just make sure you do. I...”
I cut off the call, letting my breath out in a rush between my teeth. Pushing through the club, I pocketed my phone and drew up to the coffee machine. “What’s wrong with it now?”
Fifi turned her head before shaking it at me. “I honestly don’t know. It was acting just fine, before.”
I glanced around at the tables full of customers. “Where’s Chloe?” I’d got used to her presence here in the mornings, standing behind the coffee machine with a smile on her face.
Fifi shook her head. “I think I made a mistake. I sent her off for the day. The minute I did, the machine seized up.”
I drew my brows tight.
“I hope that’s okay with you? Between Sophie and the club, you work that girl too hard.”
My chest tugged, but not at the suggestion she worked too hard. “Chloe’s not a girl.”
