“Can you say that again?” I’d probably only heard a third of the message, but before I got a response, the line went dead, and the screen went dark.
Except for the blinking icon telling me to charge it.
Too late for that.
I glared at the phone, cursing the Archangel Gabriel. It wasn’t the first time he’d let me down on the communication front in Furze. With an enormous sigh, I checked over my scribbled Post-it.
The three words I’d written were hardly a fulsome rundown of the conversation, but with a produce and personnel crisis on my hands, it’d have to do.
I’d deal with it later.
I had bigger battles to fight culinary egos to stroke and a boss-slash-secret lover-in-waiting to keep calm. With the hint of a smile, I shoved the note into the pocket of my shorts, clamped my hands around the bowl, and headed back to the kitchen.
23
CHLOE
Ipulled in a hit of salty air, grateful for the breeze on my skin. We’d made it to the beach, but in my new pink dress, I regretted every step. A bead of sweat made a determined descent between my shoulder blades. Cotton was breathable—but my new dress had the texture of a bathmat and the airflow of plastic wrap.
Sophie chattered the entire way down about rocks in the bay and sea urchin injuries. Bean hopped along at her heels, determined not to be left behind. The two of them were practically inseparable now.
After a treacherous clamber across the pebbles in wedges, Sophie, Maxime and I stepped into the light of Méduse. At the bar, Fifi stood in the glow of the lanterns, polishing glasses and looking radiant in scarlet. Either she’d spent the afternoon at a spa, or her pep talk with the chef had improved both their moods. I smirked. I’d always suspected their relationship involved more than menus and meatballs.
She grinned. “Ah! Look at the three of you. Playing happy family?”
My belly clamped tight. It’d been a joke, but her humourhadn’t tickled my funny bone. Maybe it hit a little too close to home? On the way down, I’d wondered what a normal, non-nanny night out with Maxime and Sophie might feel like.
I dared a glance at Maxime, but he didn’t seem to register Fifi’s joke. Instead, he set his jaw tight, and his brows reverted to the permanently down turned position from when I first arrived in Furze. I hadn’t realised how much his facial expression had changed in the last week. Right now, he looked like he’d shatter if I touched him.
He scanned the restaurant floor, checking everything was in order. I knew him by now. Nothing escaped his notice. It was part of his superpowers. I’d mistakenly thought him armour-plated, but his no-nonsense manner was because he cared so much.
I swallowed at the dark green-blue hint of his tattoos peeping over the collar of his white shirt. What I wouldn’t give to drop our pretence and work the knots out of his muscles.
He’d well and truly got under my skin, and I had little hope of removing him.
“Everyone’s here,” Fifi said, tilting her head towards the restaurant floor. “I’ve plied them with drinks, taken orders for entrees and,” she turned to face me, “You didn’t say there was a celebrity coming tonight.”
I pulled my brows. Did she mean Luc? He’d been one of France’s most photographed playboys pre-Iris. But since they’d married, she said he hardly left his chateau. Apparently, they’d been too busy testing all the beds.
Fifi blinked at me as if I was stupid. “MattitudeX. You know? The skier? My brother loves him.”
“Mattitu—?” Oh, my lord, she meant Matteo, Esmé’s partner. He was a huge extreme sports internet star. ThinkMr. Beaston skis. I’d forgotten he had another side to the “sensible” art investor I knew.
I chuckled. I couldn’t picture Fifi watching his videos, but atthe glow in her cheeks, I wondered if she wouldn’t ask him to sign her boobs by the end of the night.
An excited squeal rang out from the restaurant and my lips tugged into a full-out grin. I’d recognise it anywhere. Ushering Sophie, ahead of me, I scooped up Bean and headed towards the front of the restaurant.
We passed through the long, candlelit tables. Fifi had gathered wildflowers from the base of the cliffs and nestled them into jars. Méduse had never looked more magical. Hurricane lamps glowed in the corners, and the sea-glass lights shimmered in the breeze that carried the scent of lemon and rosemary from the kitchen.
The second I laid eyes on Iris, my heart almost exploded. It’d only been a few weeks—and though we’d had longer separations, until this moment, I didn’t know how much I needed a friend. I threaded my arm around her, burying my head in her blonde curls.
“Careful,” she breathed. “You don’t want to break me. And your little friend here looks terrified.” She pulled away a little, bringing the back of her hand to Bean’s glossy black nose.
“Oh, crap. I forgot I had him.”
She giggled. “Are you okay? You look okay.” She examined my face. “In fact, you look fantastic.”
I nodded, blinking away the moisture building behind my lashes. “I’m great”
