He grinned, eyes hidden behind reflective Ray-Bans. “For your own safety, you should be more observant.”
“I employ you for that, asshole.”
We clasped hands like an arm wrestle in the air across the table, then let go and he sat.
“On est prêt?” I asked him, switching back to French.
“We’re ready,” Evan confirmed. “The boat’s all stocked up and the crew is waiting.” His accent in French was atrocious. Normally I ribbed him, but today I let it go.
“Did you have any luck finding a nanny?”
“I have a call in twenty minutes. Hopefully we’ll have an American on a plane by tomorrow night.”
“Amazing what enough money will buy. Dauphine will love that. She loves all those American shows.”
I grimaced. “Banal teenage humor. She’s beginning to talk like she’s ten going on seventeen. But at least she’s improving her English.”
“I hope you find someone. I have the itinerary planned for all the meetings you gave me, and you’ll be spending a lot of day times off the boat.” Evan shifted. “I, uh, took the liberty of speaking to Jorge.”
I opened my mouth at the mention of my mother’s private secretary, but Evan spoke over me. “Just as a precaution. Your mother will be in Monaco for most of the month, but in a few weeks she’ll be in the Cap Ferrat house. Jorge says she’s been talking about reaching out and asking if Dauphine can visit for longer than just the occasional weekend.”
“Did he now?”
I leaned back in my chair, spreading my legs and resting my arms on each arm. “And I don’t suppose you then happened to mention we’d be on the boat and in the area?”
Evan had perfected the art of non-expression. “I may have mentioned it.”
We stared at each other.
At least, I stared at his sunglasses through my sunglasses, giving him the stink eye. For all I knew he was taking a quick power nap.
“Fine,” I ground out after a moment. “Did I mention how much of a nuisance you are?”
“Not that I recall. You should tell me again.” Then he broke out his stupid Tom Cruise smile.
I tutted in disgust, which only made him laugh.
After a second, he sobered. “You have to see your mother more often. She misses you. You can’t just let her be a grandmother to Dauphine and not be a mother to you.”
“I’m not avoiding her. I’ve just been busy.” That was the truth. I adored my mother, and she’d been wonderful since Arriette had passed. But lately, she was nagging me about moving on romantically, and I was tired of her little comments and constant plans to set me up. So yes, I’d been avoiding her.
“The second part I can attest to. But listen, X. Let her help. She’s got no one to fuss over, let her do what mother’s do best. Let her fuss over you as well as Dauphine.”
I felt like he was going to say more. “What?”
“Just …” He shrugged. “You could use a vacation.”
My hand swept around. “My life is a vacation. Didn’t you hear? Ritzy mansions, mega yachts, fast cars, and faster women. It’s been in all the papers,” I added, a bitter tone entering my voice. The paparazzi had been relentless since Arriette died, trying to misconstrue everything I did. “Apparently I’m still a tragic prince in mourning. And ready to crash and burn.”
“X—”
“They’re not wrong. Look around. This is my mansion. Have you looked in the garage lately? And wait, aren’t we about to leave on my yacht?”
“Well, they are wrong about the fast women. Any woman. That’s what I mean about taking a vacation.” He lowered his voice. “I mean take a vacation from being a dad just for a few days. Even a week. And, I don’t know, maybe go on a date?”
I barked out a laugh. “Jesus. As if it wasn’t bad enough from my mother. And just who the hell would you suppose I’d do that with? Any woman I’ve even had a business meeting with has ended up splashed in the papers. Who would want that? Oh wait, can’t you see I have women waiting in the wings?” I gestured around the large and empty manicured yard. “Far more than I can handle.”
At that moment, Gérard, my ancient, toothless gardener, who I seemed to have inherited with the property came over the rise. I guess he thought I was waving hello because he raised a hand in greeting.