to see a group of shocked faces. Andrea, Evan, and even Paco’s head peeped over the top of the stairwell.
Another face appeared that I didn’t recognize, maybe the chef. And then Dauphine wiggled her way through them.
“What is funny?” she demanded.
I shared a look with her father. There was no way we could tell them. It was beyond childish. And for some reason, it set us both off again.
Dauphine stomped her foot. “Papa!”
“Sorry,” I managed, trying to sober.
“Je suis desolé,” Monsieur Pascale said at the same time, also apologizing.
Grabbing my napkin, I dried my eyes.
Evan and Paco had disappeared downstairs, but not before they both looked from one to the other of us in utter bafflement and speculation.
Looking at us both warily, Dauphine took her seat, but she was an extremely subdued version of the girl who had left the table minutes earlier. Her father’s mouth kept twitching as he reined in his humor, but his eyes briefly seared me with intensity. It was gone so fast I thought I’d imagined it.
Andrea and the chef brought the main course to the table. Sea bass for the grown-ups and spaghetti for Dauphine. After a brief introduction to Chef, he left too. When Andrea went to top up my wine glass, I stopped her with a small hand motion and smile. “Thank you, but I think I should only have one when I’m working.”
Across the table, I felt rather than saw Xavier Pascale’s shoulder relax. He wanted me to stay. And I surprised myself by wanting to stay too. And I’d allowed him not to have to apologize or beg me. I hoped he appreciated it because I wasn’t normally in the habit of giving men free passes to be arrogant buttheads. But of course, he’d also overlooked me losing my temper earlier.
After Andrea left, we ate our meal in silence for a while. The sea bass was melt-in-my-mouth delicious, slightly salty and bursting with delicately herbed flavor. And by the time we were done, I was stuffed and happy. The grueling exhaustion of travel and ebbing adrenaline dragged at my muscles.
“What time do you normally go to bed?” I asked Dauphine.
“Eleven,” she said at the same time her father said, “Nine o’clock.”
She pouted and I smiled. Her father rolled his eyes. “And only because it is summertime. On special occasions perhaps ten.”
“Come on,” I said after checking my wrist watch. “I’ll help you get ready and tuck you in. Do you have animals you sleep with?”
“Des animaux?”
“Yes, like teddy bears?”
“Of course.”
“Maybe you can introduce them to me. My favorite growing up was a stuffed snow leopard my great aunt from New York City gave me. I miss that cat terribly.”
I held out my hand while her mind was distracted with trying to unpack all the elements I’d just told her. I helped her out of her chair.
“Say good night to your papa.”
She let go of me and threw her arms around his neck. “Bonne nuit, Papa.”
“Bonne nuit, mon ange.” He stroked her curls, and eyes closed, pressed a hard kiss to her head where it was tucked under his chin. His angel.
I reached for my plate and glass.
“You may leave it,” Mr. Pascale said.
Then Dauphine grabbed my hand again and tugged me toward the stairs. “Good night,” I said to her father.
“One more question, Miss Marin?”
I turned back. “Yes?”
“Do you like them now? Boats?” he clarified and cast a hand around him.
Cocking my head to the side, I pretended to ponder. “I’m still deciding.”
He raised his glass with a smirk.
I turned and went downstairs with his daughter, hating how my pulse seemed to be ticking in my throat, and that sea bass was doing a tap dance in my belly. Careful, I told myself.
In her cabin, Dauphine showed me her favorite pajamas and began introducing me to her stuffed animals.
“Do these travel with you between the boat and home?”
“Yes. But I have more. Papa said I cannot bring them all here.” Her shoulders sank.
“Hey, that’s okay. You need some to remain at home to look after your bedroom there.”
“But they get lonely.”
“Are you kidding? They are having a party every night.”
“I’m not a baby, I know my toys are not having a party.”
“But they have feelings. You told me they get lonely. If they get lonely, they can just as easily be happy.”
She humphed. “Being happy is not as easy as being sad. That’s what my maman used to tell me. She said she tried very hard to be happy all