I pulled my brows tighter and, as if sensing the change in my demeanour, Chloe glanced at me. She had a grin fixed on her face, like she dreaded my reaction to the impromptu kitten naming.
Merde, she still looked beautiful. All lightness and fun. I swallowed. I didn’t care she’d let Sophie name the cat. She could’ve sold my motorbikeandsunk my boat—it wouldn’t matter. My daughter was happy.
A shrill whistle came from the bar, and we all turned to see the waiter. Perspiration coated his brow as he waved both arms like he was guiding in a plane.
“Ugh, duty calls,” said Fifi. She turned and gave Chloe a look like she was begging for her life. “Can you help with the coffees? Please? Nobody can draw a mermaid like you.”
Chloe chuckled. “Okay, fine. Who am I to stand between the paying public and late-night caffeine consumption?”
She turned and moved behind the bar, her face alight. Within seconds, the lingering customers gravitated to her like moths to a flame. I gave a tiny shake of my head. They’d all waited for her.
Something shifted. A buzz pulsed through the club. People who usually drifted off after their dinner stayed, ordered espresso, and perused the dessert menu.
My skin prickled. The bar was buzzing. Someone had turned the music up. Not by much, but just enough to change the ambience of the room.
A cheer erupted from the group of people gathered near the coffee machine. A guy aimed his phone at the bar to take a picture of his cup. Chloe struck a pose with the latte like it was an Oscar. Her grin was ridiculous, but absolutely gorgeous. The corners of my lips lifted, too.
“What’re you thinking aboutnow?” Sophie’s voice filtered through the noise.
“Nothing, chérie. I was just watching Chloe.”
Sophie grinned, playing with her kitten on her lap. “She’s great, isn’t she?”
I looked back towards the bar, as if I needed confirmation. Chloe headed our way with two takeaway cups.
“For the VIPs,” she said, placing them down with a flourish. Sophie’s cup had a foam kitten face with marshmallow ears. And mine had what looked like a deranged merman. He had wild hair and clutched a trident.
I raised a brow. “Really?”
Chloe giggled. “What? I think it catches your spirit beautifully.” With a shake of her red curls, she returned tothe bar.
Sophie, clearly reaching the end of her fried-starch high, yawned and hugged her kitten to her chest.
I stood and offered her my hand. “Come on. Time for bed.”
She groaned, but her eyelids betrayed her. She stood. I grabbed our cups and ushered her towards the exit. I waved to Fifi, and as we passed the bar, Chloe paused and gave Sophie a salute, crisp as a military captain. “Make sure you keep an eye on him,” she said. “You know how crazy he gets after dark.”
We kept walking, but I glanced back at the threshold—just in time to see Chloe disappear into the throng, light and effortless, as if she belonged to this buzz she’d conjured from thin air.
Then she looked back, too. One tiny wink, quick as a heartbeat, and my stomach gave a traitorous twist.
With that cheeky look on her face, did she mean Sophie should keep an eye on me, or the kitten?
18
CHLOE
Ishifted on my stool at the bar. The club looked different in the day. More faded. More dreamlike. Shell decorations and beaded sea glass wind chimes tinkled in the breeze, soothing my soul. I let out a breath. I could happily spend the rest of my days here.
The smell of sea salt and bougainvillea blossom drifted on the air and my thoughts flew to Maxime. Our time on the bike left me with more questions than answers. I wanted to know so much more about him. Like where his tattoos came from, what Valerie had done to hurt him so much, and more importantly, how I could help him heal.
He’d offered the first glimpse of a less-than-perfect life when he mentioned taking his father’s motorbike. But after hiscompletely out-of-character clifftop confession, I didn’t rate my chances of uncovering any more of his secrets.
Still, something had shifted.
Then last night, the look on his face when I’d winked at him. I hadn’t meant to do it. I could blame it on a falling eyelash, or a grain of sand whipped up from the beach. Butwhen I saw him look at me with his eyes shining bright, my heart skipped.
“You were on fire last night,” Fifi said,breaking my Maxime swoon-fest. She waved her phoneunder my nose. “I finally started anInstagrampage for the club. People have tagged it so many times.”
