Page 23 of Catching Trouble
Sophie’s mouth dropped. “You’re on television?”
I leaned forward. If I was nervous before, I was terrified now.
As if sensing my insecurity, Chloe smiled, sending me a tiny wink. “Oh no, I’m far more discreet. You see, there’s only a few of us operating. We need to keep a low profile. Public exposure is bad for business.”
She had a point. Need I mention the outdoor shower?
Sophie sized her up through pursed lips. “If you’re a celebrity nanny, whose children have you looked after?”
“I’m not allowed to say. I sign a confidentiality agreement before I start a job.”
Sophie tipped her head. “Oh, really?”
Chloe popped a lump of bread into her mouth, lowering her voice. “But I’m sure I can trust you. I’ll give you some insider gossip.”
My daughter drew one eyebrow high. “Okay.”
“Picture this. I once worked for a military captain with seven children.”
I almost choked on a mouthful of wine. Was she serious? She looked serious. Luc said she had experience, but I didn’t recall any mention of the army.
Sophie’s eyes goggled. “Seven?”
Chloe nodded. “I know. It wasa lot. Honestly, they were a high-maintenance family, all round. Their father ran the house like an army barracks. He used a whistle to order them around and they all wore lederhosen.” She grasped Sophie’s arm, wide-eyed. “And he made them march everywhere.”
Recognition tickled at my brain.
“Every morning he’d toot on his whistle,and they had to line up for inspection.”
“That’s terrible,” Sophie said.
“And the worst of it? I had to teach them to sing. They had this dream to be on one of those TV talent shows.”
I glared at Chloe. What was she talking about?
Sophie leaned in. “Did they do it? Sing, I mean.”
“They did. They were a sensation. But the last I heard, they had to make a quick escape to Switzerland. Probably something to do with taxes.”
I scowled at her. There was that flicker of recognition again. Some half-buried memory about a film with children in matching outfits, hanging around in trees and singing about their feelings.
I should’ve stopped her—said something—but Sophie listened with rapt attention.It was the first times since she’d arrived.
“Switzerland?” she asked. “Did they travel in their lederhosen?”
Chloe’s eyes glowed even harder. “Well...”
Mercifully, the waiter arrived with plates tiered on his arms. “Perfect,” I said, ignoring the perspiration on his brow. He handed Sophie a massive bowl of fries. So much for her newfound love of seafood.
But as I looked at her meal, I tipped up one corner of my mouth. Her mother would hate her eating fried food. Did I take a little delight in being the rebellious “cool parent”? I did.
The waiter laid a platter of grilled octopus in front of me before giving a large bowl of steaming soup to Chloe. When he laid it on the table, a whole fish's head peeped over the top.
She leaned forward as if peering into a cauldron. “It’s a head.”
Sophie nodded, smiling sweetly. Was this the reason she’d been so happy to order for her new nanny?
Chloe lowered her eyebrows and took out her napkin, laying it on her lap. With a “Yum,” she picked up her fork, spearing the fish’s head through its gills. “This looks… delicious.” She gave what looked like a forced smile before biting into it.
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